A Voice in the Wilderness

A Voice in the Wilderness

Matthew 3:1-12

There was a Jody Foster movie years ago called, “Contact.”  I will tell you upfront that it really wasn’t a very good movie.  Don’t rush out and watch it on my account.  Like lots of mediocre movies, though, it had a moment or two—scenes that stick with you in a ways that are completely removed from the movie, itself. 

In this movie, Jodie Foster is a scientist who has a role in running a set of radio telescopes.  These giant dishes are pointed out into deepest space, listening intently for anything other than white noise.  This is the ultimate act of watchful waiting and listening, right?  Day after day, year after year, you hear nothing.  You just show up and do your job—end of story.  Except this is a movie with a big budget star so one day she is sitting there, doing her job and…she hears something.  Of course, the funny thing after you’ve been sitting there for years waiting for something to happen is that when it does, you can’t believe it.

This is such a human experience.  Whatever it is that we are waiting for and hoping for and holding on to see, we believe enough to keep watching and waiting and listening.  However, when the very thing we believed might happen—believed on a daily basis was possible—when that thing happens, we don’t believe enough to actually accept it.  So often, our minds and our hearts are big enough to hope but we just can’t find it in ourselves to accept that what is happening is actually happening.  We are far better at possibilities than realities, it seems.

So you want another example—one that’s not from a movie?  Try this… Whenever I hear a street musician, I tend to slow down and listen.  Sure, there’s that one annoying guy who really can’t play.  However, some of those musicians are really talented.  I think I pause because there is a part of me that thinks, “What if this is the one?  Wouldn’t it be cool if I could say, ‘Ya…I remember the day when I heard this new Grammy winner when he was just a street musician.’”  There’s a part of me that wants to believe that I would know it if I heard that person.

The reality, though, is that most of us wouldn’t.   There was a famous moment that happened in a subway in Washington, D.C.  As is often the case, a musician popped open his case for a potential donation or two and began playing.  When we are watching the tape on YouTube, we know—this person is good!  That’s the thing, though, the mere fact that the video is online raises our expectations:  “You’ve got to watch this!”  The people in the station, though, are on their way to work.  They are mad about how their teenager spoke to them at breakfast.  They are worried about the meeting that’s happening that day.  They are barely awake, hardly aware, and paying no attention.

What the people don’t know is that the violinist is Joshua Bell, one of the best violinists in the world.  He had just finished sold out concerts in New York.  He was heading to sold out concerts in Boston.  People paid big bucks to hear him, brought their raised expectations with them, and they were not disappointed.  They knew, on their way to the concert, that something huge was about to happen.  They told themselves, “This will be a night to remember!”  They were awake and aware and on the edge of their seats, taking in every note.  They had an amazing evening.

That’s the thing, though.  Joshua Bell, playing in the subway station, is playing his heart out.  If anything, he’s playing even more passionately than ever.  Why?  He’s playing to people who might love this music if they heard it played well.  He’s not used to being ignored so he’s reaching out with a vengeance.  Joshua Bell is a pro.  He’s “bringing” the notes.  What’s missing is the audience.  Because no one told them ahead of time how amazing the guy in the subway station was going to be the next morning, almost everyone misses how amazing the guy in the subway station actually is.  (As a side note, if you track the video down, the people who do seem to pay attention are the children who pass by because children do notice things—at least until their parents drag them away.)

It is a real struggle to be present in life.  We remember the past.  We can imagine the future.  We daydream.  We get worn out and look at our lives and think, “Nope…nothing to see here.”  We easily end up in a place where we “wake up” for the vacation we planned or our child’s big game or the night out that we’ve been anticipating but in between we are asleep at the wheel.  We live our lives like a dolphin swims, breaking the surface periodically for air, only we break the “surface” to take an occasional “breath” of meaning and purpose.  Then, back to “sleep” we go.

All of this is what makes John the Baptist interesting.  The Gospels speak of John as the one who prepared the way for Jesus.  Now, I have always been suspicious that John, himself, might not have seen himself this way.  There is a new book from a scholar at Duke who argues that, in fact, John was a full-blown competing messiah and that John’s role as the one who prepared the way was a way to honor John and appease John’s followers.  I’m afraid, though, that two thousand years is a big barrier to fully understanding those nuances.  So, instead of getting lost in that quest, let’s ask this question instead:  “What did John do to prepare the way for Jesus?”

The obvious answer that all four Gospels mention is that John baptizes Jesus.  If you look carefully (and we will next week) you will see that each Gospel offers a slightly different account of this baptism.  Nevertheless, John definitely prepares the way for Jesus by performing the sacramental act which initiates Jesus’ ministry.  Again, we’ll go deeper on this next week.

In the meantime, I want to suggest three things that John does which also prepare the way for what is to come.  First, John prepares the way for Jesus’ ministry by establishing a location for such work.  This is not immediately obvious but it is so important to notice.  This world, two thousand years ago, was one in which holy things only took place in holy places.  This, of course, is one of the big problems for any religion.  If you want to experience God’s presence then you should go to the places that specialize in God’s presence—cathedrals and temples and shrines and the like.  That’s where you will find holy people who have been trained to help you have your very own holy experience.  

John literally dislocates such an understanding.  He seems to a lot of people to be a holy—if quite strange—guy.  However, he’s not a priest or a rabbi.  He’s not what we’ve been trained to expect.  And, just as importantly, he is definitely not doing the whole “holy” thing where holy things are supposed to happen.  He is out in the world.  There’s not a temple in sight.  Instead of genuinely certified, 100 percent blessed water, this guy is performing his “cleansing” rituals in the Jordan River.  All of which prepares the way for what’s coming from Jesus, who spends almost no time in designated sacred places and who has no training whatsoever.  John sets the stage for people to begin to wake up to the notion that God will not be confined or constrained but can be discovered in the midst of life.

Second, John prepares the way by waking people up.  If you are a concert goer like I have been in my life, you’ve seen a lot of opening acts.  The one I remember is the guy who walked out by himself and lit into the most unbelievable, smoking hot guitar solo I have ever heard.  He didn’t yell at the crowd to be quiet.  He just played.  No one had ever heard of him.  However, he essentially said with his guitar, “May I have your attention please?”  And, fully awakened by the opening act, the crowd was ready to go when the main act hit the stage.

John accomplishes this same thing.  He looks crazy.  He yells like a wild man, particularly at the authorities.  He seems dangerous enough that everyone in the crowd must have felt a little at risk, “What if he comes after me?”  However, danger or no danger, John presented himself in such a way that you just kind of had to go find out for yourself:  “What’s this guy’s deal?”  (Have you ever done that experiment in life where you just stand on the sidewalk in Chicago and look up?  It doesn’t take long to draw a crowd of folks who will be looking up in the hopes of seeing what you see.  This is “gapers block.”)  John screams to people, “May I have your attention please?”  And the people answer, “Yes, sir!”

We should acknowledge that John may have been so much better at getting people’s attention than Jesus.  Jesus wasn’t a screamer.  He wasn’t flashy or frightening.  He was quieter, all the way around.  Even more people might have missed who Jesus was had John not yelled, “Someone’s coming!” to the crowds.

Here’s the tricky third way that John prepared the way for Jesus.  He pushed the theology of the day to its exhausting extreme.   John challenges the notion that the people are special because their ancestors were God’s chosen people, just like Jesus.  John challenges the power of the Pharisees and Sadducees, just like Jesus.  Yet, John is still stuck in a theology that is all about being righteous and pure.  He preaches an angry God who is about to end things…and you better get right before that happens.  Interestingly, John the Baptist sounds an awful lot like a lot of Christians who can’t wait for God to “tee”this filthy world up.

That’s the thing.  If you still think you have a shot at being righteous all on your own, if you still think you have a leg to stand on, if you think you can navigate life without surrendering to God’s presence, then you won’t ever hear the message that Jesus is prepared to reveal.  God could judge us all.  Instead, God loves.  God could end this world.  Instead, God calls us to discover the Kingdom among us.  God could demand that we be compassionate—or else!Instead, God is gracious to us.  Jesus suggests that we might want to be a little less judgmental and a bit more loving ourselves. 

“May I have you attention please!  Get yourself ready for the one who is coming next…”