In preaching repentance, John reveals the surprising truth about the mission of Jesus. That we are first called to admit that we were wrong.
Advent 2B | Mark 1:1-8
Reading the opening verses of Mark, we’re often struck by what’s not there.
There’s no Mary and Joseph.
No trip to Bethlehem, to David’s city.
We hear no angels and see no shepherds.
We spy no expectant parents and their flight into Egypt
or another baby leaping in another womb.
And then, we are often struck by what is there.
A man shouting in the wilderness
dressed strangely, demanding greatly,
and dunking people in the river.
I’m struck by our fidelity to the content of the birth story, but not to the content of the gospel itself.
We know the birth story, or at least the conception of the birth story cobbling together both Matthew and Luke by way of Charlie Brown and Christmas pageants.
But what I see when I open up the Bible to this gospel we call Mark and read these words, I don’t hear Christmas carols.
I hear something far more powerful.
The beginning of the good news
“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
It sounds like such a formula. Like it’s the way any story from the time should begin, I guess. Or maybe its redundancy and obviousness are easy to skim over. But it shouldn’t be. It’s revolutionary.
“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
This is how it begins. It.
the good news
the good news of Jesus Christ
And the evangelist names Jesus the Messiah in the opening line. He names Jesus in the opening line what Peter will name him in chapter 8. He calls him the Christ, the Messiah.
The one who would be king. The long hoped-for savior and redeemer of Israel.
This is a huge statement! But that isn’t where the evangelist puts the period.
the Son of God.
He goes one step further and calls Jesus Son of God.
The Messiah of Israel. AND the Son of God.
Of course, Caesar called himself Son of God. It was a title attributing divinity and power. But in the Roman world, there could only be one Son of God.
There weren’t countless sons of God running around like a litter of puppies underfoot. Nothing so quaint or indisputable.
One Son of God: Caesar. According to Caesar.
But according to the evangelist we call Mark, the one Son of God is Jesus.
So it begins. The revolution of the Christ and the coming of the Son of God. Here!
A Prophetic Lineage
This good news begins with the prophetic announcement of its beginning. Then proceeds to plant this revolutionary Christ in the prophetic tradition.
For the announcement comes from one prophet, Isaiah
“the voice of one crying out in the wilderness”
And then it comes by way of another in John
“the voice of one crying out in the wilderness”
This is the one who will straighten the twisting roads and flatten the mountainous terrain. Not Isaiah or John, but one coming just like them. Another.
One who will take on this mantle, proclaiming repentance and baptism.
Like us, he will come, bearing this new way. Like us, yet more than us.
The Good News in Repentance
Now, I’m no stranger to a soap box. I carry one with me just in case I need to use it. We have things to settle. Like which is better: Marvel or DC? Star Wars or Star Trek? Burgers or Burritos? There are serious questions to consider and I have opinions! I know you do, too! I hear ’em!
But this is really one of my favorite things to get on a soap box about. I love repentance. And I believe it is at the center of everything.
Now, I know some of you think of street preachers and televangelists when you hear that word. Or you twitch from your post-traumatic church syndrome but repentance is a good word.
Repentance literally means “to turn”. So it is a call to turn away from the bad and toward the good. We understand this as fundamental to our faith.
But before it’s on the lips of Jesus, it’s spoken into truth by John the Baptizer. And these aren’t words of terrible judgment and derision but of love.
Repentance isn’t about being condemned by other people, abused, or manipulated. It isn’t being “loved” into submission. But it also isn’t “anything goes” and “God doesn’t expect anything from you.”
This is the flip-side of every attempt to help heal the world. To feel condemned enough to turn away from the bad and loved enough to come find God in the wilds of nature; in the river. It’s the incredible call to turn our whole lives around to find God.
And many have heard this before, but we as Christians obsess far too much about sin and far too little about confession.
Repentance Brings Intimacy
All of these people heard about this wild-eyed prophet out in the river, dunking people in waters of new life. And they came to him. They turn away from the old and toward this new way of being.
And if we truly believed what we claim to believe, we’d hear John’s call to turn away from the junk of our past and present and seek forgiveness. Not just because that’s what we do, but because that makes us who we are called to be.
At the heart of our faith is another word so revolutionary it makes the titans of Wall Street shake in their hand-tailored suits: intimacy. Admitting we’re wrong and make mistakes. It means being honest and listening to each other. Intimacy takes trust and intention. We have to work at it!
Intimacy is being able to tell each other hard truths and then working to make it right. Intimacy is sharing our fears and dreams and trusting we won’t be hurt for being honest.
And we can find intimacy in a God coming to us. A God incarnate and a Triune God in its divine dance of love.
Repent Toward Love
The word repent doesn’t make me think of angry people; faces distorted and bearing signs naming all the people God hates. I hear in it the burdens people carry in their hearts and the confusions clouding their minds.
I’m reminded of our need for intimacy, trust, forgiveness. And I know that every one of us needs to be loved and forgiven.
And I think of all those prophets who have tried to tell the world to turn away from evil: from war and violence, hatred and idolatry: and come home.
So when I open my Bible and look at this gospel, I imagine what words could compel all of those people into the wilderness; into this wild revolution. I imagine how radical they must be in this Roman-occupied territory. Words of freedom and forgiveness. Intimacy in a world of distrust. Weakness in a country obsessed with power.
And I realize I know what the words are. We’ve read them countless times throughout the gospels. We’ve heard them in hundreds of parables and sermons. In the very life of the Christ. A gospel which began thousands of years ago and continues in our turning. Our sharing and loving. And in our intimacy.
And I hear that promise of the one coming next. One offering that same prophetic call to turn toward love. To come be forgiven.
And I beg God to forgive me.