Luke 3:1-6 “God’s Advance Team”
Introduction
You never know what how the boy or
girl next door is going to turn out. The boy who lived next door to
us while I was growing up turned out to have a very interesting
career. After he grew up Dale started out as a golf pro, but ended
up as a member of the first President Bush’s advance team. Dale
dressed in preppy and later business attire. The whole sixties
thing seemed to have passed him by. When I’d see Dale occasionally
he’d talk about the exciting places he’d visited as he went before
the president, working with others on the team to assure everything
was organized and secure for an upcoming visit of President Bush I.
But when I’d listen to Dale, I
sensed none of the excitement such an awesome job would entail.
Dale had one of those quiet, steady voices with little inflection
that could carry a person into the snooze zone in about five
minutes. I always marveled at his ability to make the most
incredible adventures sound commonplace and mundane.
Today in Luke’s gospel we read
about God’s advance team. Actually, it was only one person, John
the Baptist. John was anything but boring. If John were alive
today, people seeing him would probably shake their heads and
mutter, “Typical PK, that is Preacher’s Kid. Preachers’ kids are
notorious for rebelling against the strictures of their parents and
the pressures of the religious community to measure up to high
standards, some PKs adopt experimental lifestyles. John certainly
had an eccentric edge. He left his parents’ home and lived in the
wilderness, dressing in rustic garb and eating South Wilderness
Diet, which predated the South Beach diet by about 2000 years. Since
it consisted of only locusts and wild honey, the diet never realized
much popularity. Though the renderings of what artists imagine John
looked like picture him robust and burly, I envision John as rather
scrawny and sinewy since one would need to eat a whole lot of
locusts and honey to bulk up.
Some scholars speculate that John
had some association with the Essenes, a group of Jewish ascetics,
who established a community in wilderness. Wherever John developed
his theology, he was passionate about his role in God’s great
unfolding drama. He came to herald the Good News that the
long-anticipated Messiah was coming.
Advent and Christmas scripture
passages are very familiar, at least to those of us who have grown
up in the church, and often the startling impact of this story is
lost for us. So I thought I’d help us to perhaps hear the story
anew through a different rendering of today’s passage. It’s from
Clarence Jordan’s Cottonpatch paraphrase.
During the fifteenth year of Tiberius as
President, while Pontius Pilate was governor of Georgia, and Herod
was governor of Alabama, his brother Philip being governor of
Mississippi, and Lysanias still holding out over Arkansas; while
Annas and Caiaphas were co-presidents of the Southern Baptist
Convention, the word of God came to Zack’s boy, John, down on the
farm. And he went all around in the rural areas preaching a dipping
in water–a symbol of a changed way of life as the basis for getting
things straightened out. This was based on a passage from the book
of Isaiah the prophet:
A voice shouts: Make
a road for the Lord in the depressed areas, and make it straight.
Every low place shall be filled in,
And every hill and high place shall be pushed down.
And the curves shall be straightened out.
And the washboard
road scraped smooth.
Then every human being will share in the good things of God.
If John the Baptist were to
appear to us today, we might hear these words:
In the sixth year of the
presidency of George W. Bush, while Condoleezza Rice was Secretary
of State, while Arnold Schwarzeneggar was governor of California,
during the reign of Queen Elizabeth II in England, the Word of God
came to an earthworm farmer named Billy Bob in the backwoods of
Louisiana.”
The
people of Luke’s day were surprised at the announcement that in a
world filled with so many powerful people, God’s Word came to a
relatively unknown, powerless person like John the Baptist from up
in the Judean hills, let alone from a guy who had opted for a
strange desert lifestyle. One would think he would have had more
impact in the big cities, especially the capital. If he really
wanted to lobby for his cause, he should have chosen the halls of
power. Would that be the kind of person we would choose to speak to
us about God? But that is who God chose.
We live in a world that values the successful life that
leads to the top. The goal of life is to get ahead. Of course,
those words are never heard. People wanting to excel use words
like, “this job is just not challenging enough.” or “my skills are
underutilized in this work. We convince ourselves that the goal of
life is to aspire to positions of power. However, John the Baptist
challenged those assumptions. Rather than encourage further climbing
of the social and economic ladder, John proclaimed a message of
repentance. The Greek word for “repentance” is metanoia. Metanoia
means “to change your mind” or more accurately, “to change your
way of thinking.
We
celebrate Advent every year not just to prepare for Christmas,
remembering the marvelous story of the incarnation of God as Jesus.
Advent reminds us that Jesus is coming again, and we still need to
think about being ready. I’m not talking about the fearful images
of The Left Behind series. Metanoia means readying ourselves
for the presence of God in our lives. It involves not only
admitting the wrongs we have committed, but also taking positive
actions to correct those past misdeeds.
Police in Enid, Oklahoma, were called to
a woman’s house to investigate a break-in. But the intruder did not
enter the house to steal things; rather he came to return articles
that he had previously stolen. In particular, the thief repented by
returning the woman’s television, stereo, and VCR. Police officers
reported that “the apparent crook-with-a-conscience even reconnected
the wires and repaired the door jamb damaged in the original
break-in.[1]
Unfortunately, it’s
not easy to repent. We can’t just put things back the way they
were. Indeed, some things we do are not reparable. For example,
it’s impossible to undo a murder. On a simpler scale, we’d like to
take back the harsh words we’ve spoken to our children or our
coworkers, but repentance on our part doesn’t necessarily correlate
with forgiveness on theirs.
Today’s Gospel reading
encourages us to repent, to make the changes that need to be made.
Although it has been adapted and modified by many people and groups
over the years, the so-called Serenity Prayer was originally
authored by Reinhold Niebuhr in 1943, at the height of America’s
conflict with Germany. The prayer, as Niebuhr wrote it, states: “God
give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be
changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and
the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.” Since Niebuhr
never copyrighted the prayer, it has undergone a number of
modifications over the years.
In particular, Alcoholics Anonymous changed
the part that says “courage to change the things that should be
changed” to “courage to change what can be changed.” Niebuhr’s
daughter, Elisabeth Sifton, laments the way that change
significantly weakens the content of the prayer. As changed by AA,
the prayer “speaks merely of what we think we might manage to alter
at a given moment, to change what we can change. But there are
circumstances that should be changed yet may seem beyond our powers
to alter, and these are the circumstances under which the prayer is
most needed.”[2]
John
the Baptist invites us to change not only what can be changed, but
to change what should be changed. God’s Advance Team, John the
Baptizer, comes among us to call us to get ready, to turn away from
those activities that separate us from God and turn toward those
ways of being in the world, those acts of kindness that reflect our
allegiance to Christ, to Immanuel to God coming among us. Amen.

[1]
(“Robber With Guilty Conscience Breaks In,
Reinstalls Electronics,” Associated Press, 4/28/05)
[2]
. Sifton, Elisabeth, The Serenity Prayer:
Faith and Politics in Times of Peace and War, New York:
Norton, 2003, p. 293.