Advent 3, Year A, 2001

Trinity Cathedral, Trenton, NJ

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Matthew 11: 2-11

The cell was small, cramped,
more like a cave
than a room.
Moisture seeped out of the rock
leaving a greenish smear down one wall,
and the floor was rough with rubble
from the ceiling's
slow fall.
But at least it was cool, this cave;
the heat and dust and noise from outside
barely filtered
through the small window
high up in one corner,
just above street level
on the outside.
So that he could almost imagine himself
back in the wilderness,
lying on the hard stony ground
wrapped in his cloak
and looking up at the inky blackness
that was the sky.

The loneliness here
and the loneliness there
were much the same;
fear
and hunger
and isolation,
and the wondering
if he could ever survive.
What could the people outside
know of it all, with their cozy homes
and happy families,
what could they know
of a message so intense
that it possessed his whole body.

The spirit had driven him
out into the wilderness,
into the wilderness
with a message to bear.

And that very same message
was his in prison too,
this time locked
in a body bound with chains,
the spirit and the soldiers co-conspirators
in an urgent call
to prepare the way
for the Messiah.

The wilderness, a prison,
not very promising places
to win a hearing for God.

The abrasiveness of John's voice
matched the abrasiveness of the sand
whipping against their legs and stinging their eyes.
The harshness of his message
matched the harshness
of the sun, beating down on them.
"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven
has come near. Prepare
the way
of the Lord."

It wasn't a message
guaranteed to inspire confidence, not even a message
to inspire hope.
But a message
which spoke
to the gritty reality
of their daily lives.
Lives where pain and
broken relationships
were everyday,
where bad memories
and wounded souls colluded
in a spiraling mess.

They didn't go out into the desert
for easy answers
- there was no shortage of those
in the cities -
but the answers of the cities
rang hollow,
the clichééd responses
of people who had never really known
the pain of real life.
But the desert, the wilderness
somehow matched their mood.
Life there
was a struggle
as much a struggle
as eking out a living
in the crowded urban streets.
And there was a chance, just a chance
that the words which came out of that struggle
might be able
to begin
to speak to their own struggles.
They had no illusions.
This was not going to offer
some simple way out,
a magical escape
from the ugly realities
of their lives.
But at least they could hope,
at least they could hope
that it might offer them a way on,
a first step forward
into a better future.

And at least it would be beginning
from something like
where their own lives were,
from the middle of the struggle,
not some artificial place
of prosperity
and happiness,
which was only bound
to fail.

And so
they headed out into the desert
to see John,
the baptizer, the prophet,
with a message hard to hear
but almost comforting
in its grim reality.
"Repent"
he said,
"repent.
Acknowledge the mistakes,
the wrong turns,
the bad habits.
Think about who you have spoken sharply to,
who you have brushed aside.
Who have you failed to care for? Who
have you wronged?
What are things
you have neglected, forgotten?
How have you screwed up your life?
Repent, turn around.
Take all those things,
the burdens
which weigh you down,
the load
form off your shoulders,
and leave them, leave them behind
in the cleansing water
of baptism,
leave them behind
in the forgiving
arms
of God.
Let them be.

Because God is doing
something new,
God is doing something radical.
God is beginning again, beginning again
with a messiah
A leader, a savior, one who will bring life
to the world.
In this desert
you see all around you,
will be rivers,
and those stony hollows
will become a swamp
fluttering with birds;
from this dust
will grow
the purple crocuses
of spring.

God
has not forgotten
you. God has not
thrown you
away.
God loves you,
and will redeem you. God is with you,
and will bring new things
in your lives.
Water, not the salt of tears
but the freshness of dew,
not the atrophy of fear
but the swelling buds
of new growth.
Begin again, begin
to serve
your God.
And prepare
the way
of the Lord."

The people
flocked to John
flocked to hear
the one who knew
all too well
the wilderness
of their lives,
and offered life
from the middle of it.

But now
he was in prison.
No more
wilderness ravings,
no more impromptu baptisms
in the muddy water
of the Jordan,
just a man,
his prophesies
apparently still
un-fulfilled,
lying in a mildewy dungeon,
prisoner
of the king.

And still they came to him, those followers,
wondering
if perhaps this was somehow
part of the plan. Another stunt
like the locusts and wild honey,
another sign,
decreed by God,
to lead the people
into faith.

And a sign it was.
Perhaps not the sign they had hoped for,
a triumphant messiah
riding gloriously into town,
bringing a new government of justice and peace,
with the baptizer
on his right hand,
but a sign, nevertheless,
a sign
that his task was done.
Faithful to the end,
it wasn't much later
that Herod,
fulfilling a drunken promise
executed John
and served up his head
on a plate.
John's job was done, his call
had been heard.

"Are you the one?"
he sent the message.
"Are you the one
God promised?"
Because this
was no mighty
warrior, no royal champion
set to conquer
Israel
for God.
He remembered the day
Jesus came to him,
standing in the river,
with water running down his neck, and the
Spirit of God
descending on him
like a dove.
"This is my Son, the Beloved,
with whom I am well pleased."

"Are you the one?"

He looked at himself in prison, body unwashed,
beard wilder than ever,
eyes sunken
through lack of food and light.
And he imagined his cousin, Jesus,
footsore and weary from traveling,
clothes dusty and torn,
heels cracked
and nose blistered from the sun,
and his muddle of friends
straggling behind him. "Are you really
the one?"

His friends
took his message
to Jesus,
took his message
to the one
who John thought
he had been waiting for.
"John is in prison," they said,
"John is in prison, and he may never get out.
Before he dies, just tell him, are you the one?"

"Am I the one?" said Jesus. "Am I
the one?
Look around me. Tell him
what you see.
The blind
receive their sight, the lame
walk, the lepers
are cleansed, the deaf
hear, the dead
are raised, and the poor
have good news
brought to them.
Tell him,
tell my cousin,
what you see."

They went back to John.
And they told him.
"The blind,
they receive their sight, the lame
walk, the lepers
are cleansed, the deaf
hear, the dead
are raised, and the poor
have good news
brought to them.
Is he
the one?"

And John answered,
struggling with the words
from that moldy cell,
one last time, he spoke his message:
"The kingdom
of God
is at hand. Repent.
And prepare
the way
of the Lord."

Far away,
in a small village
in the middle of the countryside,
Jesus said,

"Come unto me, all you that are weary
and are carrying heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you,
and learn from me;
for I am gentle, and humble in heart
and you will find rest
for your souls.
For my yoke
is easy,
and my burden
is light."

Raewynne J. Whiteley
16 December 2001