“Preparing in the Wilderness”
A Communion Meditation Preached by the
Rev. Jean Niven Lenk
Second Sunday in Advent, December 4, 2011
First Congregational Church of Stoughton, United Church of Christ
Texts: Isaiah 40:1-5; Mark 1:1-8
There is an unscientific, unvalidated poll being taken online[i] even as we speak which asks the question: “Is Christmas becoming too commercialized?” When I last looked, at about 9:15 this morning, a resounding 81% of voters – including moi -- had answered “Yes!”
Maybe it’s just me, but I think this question is a no brainer. Even Lucy observed, “We all know that Christmas is just a big commercial racket, Charlie Brown.” The madness begins in mid-October and reaches new heights of insanity on Black Friday. It spins around us in a whirlwind of activity as we attempt to make this the most memorable, the most magical, the most whatever Christmas in memory.
And what happens in the process is that rather than finding peace on earth and feeling good will toward all, we end up finding stress in malls and feeling irritation toward everyone. Christmas beckons us to overindulge, overspend, overwork, and overdo.
Consider the food – fat-laden, sauce-drenched, alcohol-spiked, sugar-loaded and gluttony-inspiring. And the decorations – over-inflated, glitter-soaked, mega-watted, and super-sized. Call me a cynic, but it seems that we spend money we don’t have, on gifts we can't afford, for people who don’t need them and we sometimes don’t even like.
But into the whirlwind of incessant music, of secular trappings, of excess and overconsumption on this Second Sunday of Advent comes John the Baptist, preaching a different message and calling us to a different path.
John is a link between the Old and New Testaments, and he is the physical embodiment of a past generation of prophets. His leather belt and hairy clothing recall the prophet Elijah, whose return was a sign of the coming of the Messiah [Malachi 4:5; Matthew 17:10-13]. And John comes to fulfill the prophecies of Isaiah [40:3-5] to "prepare the way of the Lord.”
John calls us, too, to “prepare the way" for the coming of God. But his idea of getting ready is not about baking and buying and decorating, but rather about getting away from the noise and the crowds and the excess and enter the stark desolation of the wilderness.
Yes, the wilderness. The word may conjure up the image of a barren, abandoned, godforsaken place, the furthest thing possible from a warm and cozy Currier and Ives Christmas picture. But the wilderness is the place where, throughout scripture, people have encountered God. It is in the wilderness, on a mountain, that Moses meets God in a burning bush; it is out in the wilderness that the children of Israel are led by God; it is in the wilderness that Jesus comes to be baptized by John. In the wilderness, we become absorbed in the powerful presence of God.
Your wilderness might be here in this sanctuary. But it could as easily be your office, or your back porch, or your car, or the fitness center. God meets you in that space where the two of you can be alone together, where the burdens and distractions of your day can be placed on the back burner, and you can hear God’s voice speak of love, forgiveness, hope, peace, and healing.
John the Baptist’s words in this morning’s lesson from Mark echo across the ages, and his invitation resonates in the midst of our overscheduled, overspent, overstressed Christmas preparations. It is an invitation to prepare for Christ’s coming by stepping out of the pace and pattern of Christmas as it’s celebrated by our culture. It is an invitation to be done with mindless distractions and misplaced priorities and meaningless pursuits, and to make room for Christ. It is an invitation to empty our hearts of all the things that get in the way of our relationship with God and to go out into the stripped-down simplicity of the wilderness: the wilderness of prayer; the wilderness of scripture; the wilderness of a square of bread and a thimble of juice; the wilderness of being right here with others in worship. The wilderness is anywhere we can become absorbed in the powerful presence of God.
And when we go to the wilderness, we can be emptied in order to prepare room for the One who is coming.
A journey into the wilderness may change how we celebrate Christmas. After such an experience, we may feel called to choose simplicity over pushing the limits of our spending and planning and scheduling. We may choose to worship rather than party on Christmas Eve. We may decide to delay the presents in order to be here on Christmas morning.
In doing things that are so counter-cultural, some of us may feel like lone voices crying out in the wilderness. People may even look at us like we’re some wild-eyed prophet. But we just may find that we prefer the calm of Christ’s presence to all the scurrying and noise. We just may find that valuing relationships is more meaningful than valuing stuff. We just may find that serving and giving to others brings us a joy that wanting and getting never did. And we just may find, on this Sunday of Peace, that our wilderness experience brings to our souls a peace that we can’t find elsewhere this time of year.
On this Second Sunday of Advent, as he does every year, John the Baptist calls us out into the wilderness to get away from all the clamor and distraction, so we might focus on God and prepare the way in our hearts for Christ. So, try turning away from the glitz and glitter of the mall this season and instead try taking a walk into the wilderness. It’s not the barren, desolate, godforsaken place you might expect. On the contrary, it is precisely the place where God is waiting to meet you. Amen.
