SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2022

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2022

Here we go again, it’s that time of the liturgical year. A time of new beginnings with John the Baptist telling us exactly how to prepare for when the kingdom of heaven comes near as it did in his lifetime. During Advent each year, we not only prepare for Jesus’ birth, we examine our readiness for change, our willingness to meet Jesus differently and possibly be reborn ourselves.

While on the beach in Florida, it occurred to me that lifeguards are a lot like John the Baptist. They exist as the safe alternative to swimming or sinning at your own risk. They are lookouts, ones equipped who blow their whistle when people near the edge of danger, who motion those at risk to turn around and come back toward safety, the shore, and the company of others.

When they blow their whistle everyone takes notice. Each swimmer (or sinner in John’s case) is literally called upon to note their personal whereabouts and consider the possible consequences of their behavior, their tendency to veer off course. 

While snorkeling, John the Baptist is a voice in the wilderness saying, “Keep to this side of the buoy markers. Don’t swim into territory where fatalities occur, where humans can’t survive encounters with boats or their motors.” 

The water surrounding Peanut Island was clear and from what I could see was at least two or three body lengths deep. It was also more shallow in some spots as an alarm kept sounding in less than ideal water depth for the boat my brother rented. 

Regardless of its depth, I kept getting water in my mask. My nostrils filled with salt water and my snorkel kept making gurgling sounds. Steve also grew tired from mouth breathing while swimming. So we both seized the opportunity to stand on large boulders piled high enough to allow footing with our heads above water. 

As soon as we stood, John the Baptist cried out again in the form of my brother saying, “Watch out when standing on the rocks. They’re not only slippery, but sharp.” Sure enough, before long we both had small bleeding cuts on our heels and legs from barnacles and other sharp edges. 

My brother was like John trying to say that sin provides no foothold. It can instantly cut and make you bleed. See, you don’t want that. Blood in the water signals vulnerability and alerts predators. C’mon now, wise up. He had also made each of us pick a buddy to swim with beforehand. Even fish species stuck with their own kind. The smallest ones stayed close to boulder crevices which provided them extra shelter. 

My favorite moment while snorkeling was when a juvenile Sergeant major fish about the size of a fifty-cent piece swam back and forth in a path no wider than my mask. It was shaped like an elongated disk with black stripes and accents on a shiny white background.

 

A brilliant yellow smear ran the length on top of its tiny rounded back. I attempted to hold my position right where I was for just inches away was this little one’s home base, a small depression at the top of a rock, sprinkled with sand, shielded by other boulders on three sides. 

As I hovered on the one open side, he or she, also known as a damselfish, swam back and forth. We looked at each other with equal curiosity, I with both my eyes looking straight ahead. He or she looked at me first with the right eye, then with the left, then the right, then the left. Both my eyes and heart were smitten by its cute trusting innocence.

Like the juvenile Sergeant Major fish, John the Baptist knew how to survive in the wilderness. Both were being guarded by a larger male figure close at hand. Both had good God-given instincts. 

But, unlike the Sergeant major fish, other than when John leapt for joy in his mother’s womb upon greeting his aunt Mary and future cousin, Jesus, John does not come across as a happy thriving figure according to most biblical accounts. I wonder if he thrived, spending most of his time in survival mode, noticing who did right or wrong and offering unwanted advice which finally cost him his life.

His lifestyle must have afforded some type of freedom, peace and satisfaction. Apparently he was confident and competent, but understood his capability to be limited, rough at best. 

Like a lifeguard in a tower stand on the beach, John realized that potential drowning victims could not be rescued from shore. He had to point to another lifeguard soon to arrive by boat. That guy would be able to save victims from above and offer lifegiving measures far beyond the training John received or skills he acquired.  

John shouted, blowing his whistle to say, “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his path straight,” as if to say, “Where do you need to set or maintain boundaries? Do you see where buoys are in place to avoid harm or create sanctuary space? What spiritual practice might protect you from the stinging effect of salty conversations or assist your limited capacity to breathe while underwater, when now, more so than other times of the year, have even more to do in even less time?

Where do you need to set or maintain boundaries?

When Jesus arrives as a baby in just a few weeks, he will again appear in juvenile form resting in a crib-like manger. He will be but inches away from our eyes like the little Sergeant Major fish among the boulders, black, white, and yellow in color, somewhat round with a shiny halo, smooth scales for skin. 

What will you do to meet him there? How can you prepare? Will you try to find a point of access where the two of you can commune without words in a small frame or window? Like my experience with the little fish, even one encounter with Christ will stick with you, be life enhancing, if not life changing. 

When snorkeling in God’s realm, until we get our masks on tight, any success we hope for is impossible. Basic elements that constitute the natural environment are not conducive to our thriving. We can avail ourselves of things constructed to help us adapt, but God wishes to offer an alternative to constant warning or drowning: the option of being fully rescued from trying to do it our way or saving ourselves. 

 

This doesn’t mean getting stuck “resolving to try harder and do better.” John the Baptist’s message of repentance, realization that we “fall short of God’s standard,” is not a call to “rely on self-effort.” It is not about our ego or adopting the right belief, right behavior or right ritual. His message is not the same as that of Santa Claus or anything “external that can be measured.” *

The message of John the Baptist is about internal transformation, the core component of spiritual growth.” * We only have the ability to partially see ourselves. Our eyes literally face forward making it impossible to turn our gaze inward, or view the past without fully turning around, the definition of repentance. John knew that looking back led to confessing sin and becoming baptized.

The rest of John’s message conveys anger and cynicism regarding those who presume worthiness or seek to avoid confession based on heritage, family ties, religious affiliation, or community status. Beginning with verse eleven John asks listeners to focus on a person yet to come and everything that lies ahead, in front of them where God has already set the direction of our eyes.

The Spirit and fire with which Christ baptizes does not separate wheat from chaff. The two distinctions merely illustrate that some parts are useful and necessary to God’s kingdom and others not so much until they find or realize their purpose, a life challenge pertinent to all ages.

Prophets are often not welcomed or appreciated during their lifetimes because they speak plainly and make folks uncomfortable. Their job is to remind people of their responsibilities to God and neighbor, to help each person realize their current state by looking inward, but also to help them focus forward in preparation for what is to come. 

Prophets are the equivalent of strong current in water. Life is a snorkeling adventure. There’s a lot to see, beauty to behold, activity in which to partake. But there’s also an underlying force exerting pressure upon us at all times, a current of sin upon which we float. 

Sin and life itself, take us beyond safe zones into dangerous territory where we could get run over, lost or drown. The force of other things thrusts our bodies into self-awareness. We are reminded of our foreign status; we encounter strange forms of life and the harsh reality of environments that seem to threaten and not affirm our way of being. 

But then the voice of God appears. It may appear in the vast overwhelming nature of our surroundings. It may appear in something no larger than a fifty-cent piece, or in words found in the Bible like those read earlier. “None shall hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, none shall hurt or destroy anywhere in my territory once the earth is as full of knowledge of the Lord as water covers the sea.”

Not head knowledge, but full knowledge of the Lord that comes through lived experience. We are invited to inquire of God, to ask questions and listen. Receive what God offers in the form of prophets and circumstances that push you toward or away from that which you seek. Seek the Lord. Prepare for a firsthand encounter.

And remember that one cannot snorkel without first donning swimwear, sunscreen, a proper fitting mask, and snorkel. Should we not prepare ourselves in likewise manner to meet Christ again at Christmas time? 

Paul’s letter to the Romans speaks to us by saying, “Rejoice, O Gentiles (which by definition is anyone who is not Jewish) with his people, the nation of Israel”; and again,“Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles. Let all the peoples praise him.” 

Isaiah says, “The root of Jesse shall come, the one who rises to rule the Gentiles; in him the Gentiles shall hope.” Paul says finally, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” John the Baptist, Paul, and the juvenile Sergeant Major fish all preach the same message. 

I see you. Do you see me? Do you see God present in everything beautiful and good? Do you see how God is protecting and nurturing all of creation and every living thing? If not, let the Holy Spirit show you. Let forgiveness heal and prepare you to receive truth in the form of flesh and blood through Jesus the Christ, the archetype of everything God offers that is tangible, always present and sent on our behalf. Let us pray.

God, we are humbled and see you through the many ways you attempt to communicate. Through many eyes and experiences we are willing to face the future more connected to you and our neighbors. Help us to prepare to encounter both your Spirit and fire this year, renewed and invigorated by voices and messages that affirm your loving care and our sense of purpose in your kingdom. In your holy name we pray. Amen.  

*references a chapter from Discovering Your True Self.