Second Sunday of Advent
Before getting into the message today, I want to say something. For quite some time but especially since summer, we have witnessed many conversations about justice in our criminal justice system, including our police force. Too often, our system has demonstrated racial inequities. Put simply, my black and brown neighbors too often have experienced a different criminal justice system than I do. That’s not right. The gospel frowns on that. So, what is our response as a church? Part of it lies in being more engaged and more prayerful for what is going on in our city.
Therefore, I want to note the recent news that after the retirement of Police Chief Steve Anderson that we now have a new Police Chief in John Drake. Just as we pray for our mayor, governor, president, and other politicians, let us continually lift up Police Chief Drake in our prayers. Let us pray now. Lord God, we pray for justice and fairness in our laws, the implementation of our laws, and the enforcement of our laws. Lord, we see widespread distrust and suspicion. We pray for healing and the rebuilding of trust. We ask that you be with Chief Drake. Grant him wisdom, patience, mercy, humility, and love. Lord, have mercy on him, our entire criminal justice system, and our entire city. In the name of Jesus. Amen.
Today is the second Sunday of advent. Our gospel reading comes from Mark 1:1-8 “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, 2 as it is written in Isaiah the prophet: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way”—3 “a voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’” 4 And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. 6 John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.7 And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. 8 I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
Every year about this time, we look at readings about the arrival of John the Baptist and how he announces the arrival of Jesus the Messiah. Next week, we’ll look more at the person of John, but this week, I want to look at his message.
In this passage, Mark links John’s ministry to Isaiah 40, specifically the famous “voice in the wilderness” motif. If we study what’s going on in Isaiah, we gain access into the totality of John’s message, what it tells us about Jesus and what it tells us about the gospel. Think of it like this. John is a messenger, and the gospel is a message. The gospel is literally the word “euangellion” which means good news. John comes to deliver good news. The good news starts with this word, comfort. If John the Baptist sent you an email, the subject heading would be “comfort.” If John texted you one day, the first word you noticed would be “comfort.”
Now, that might strike us as odd. Isn’t John the one who comes talking about repentance, fire, and judgment? Sure, that’s correct. But it’s all under the good news of comfort. There is good news of comfort, but you’ve got to wake up as we talked about last week. You’ve got repent and prepare yourself to receive the good news of comfort.
Let’s unpack the emotion behind this word, comfort. I want you to think back to a really tough situation in your life. You failed a test. A friend betrayed you. You felt boxed in and powerless. People laughed and told stories about a party that you weren’t invited to. You gave your heart to someone, and they broke up with you. You worked tirelessly at a job only to watch less qualified people get promoted over you. Maybe you even got laid off. You love your family, and you want to spend time with them. But no matter how hard you try, the conversation always turns to conflict and hurt feelings. You got blamed for something you didn’t do. You lost your temper and said something you shouldn’t have. Even though you apologized, everyone remembers. These are all tough situations.
When everything falls apart, what do you want to hear? Comfort. Who do you want to be with? Someone that is comforting. In these moments, I find myself longing for someone to tell me, “It’s gonna be okay. You won’t feel this way forever. This moment will not define you. You’ll get past this. It’s okay. Trust me. It’s okay.” Isn’t that what we want to hear? We want someone to come and bring comfort. We want someone to bring us signs of new life.
One of my mentors tells this story. Years ago, his son studied to be a pharmacist and ended up doing a residency in a foreign country. Unbeknownst to the father, the son slowly became addicted to pain killers due to a back injury. He ended up abusing his pharmacy license for personal gain, and he found himself in jail. Can you imagine getting a phone call that your child is in jail half a world away? You want to help, but you don’t understand the justice system. Well, my friend quickly boarded a flight, arrived on the scene, and showed up at the arraignment. He hired an attorney, but at a key moment, he asked if he could address the judge himself. The judged asked, “Sir, what do you want?” The father boldly replied, “I am sorry for my son’s actions. I will do everything in my power to get my son back on the right track. I ask that you release him into my custody and allow me to take him home tomorrow.” A gasp hovered over the courtroom that this American father made such an audacious request. To the surprise of everyone including the hired attorney, the judge simply said, “Okay, you may take your son home. I release him into your care.” And the dad took his son home. That is comfort.
And that is the message of John the Baptist. God has come to take you home. The Messiah is coming to make all things new. New Creation, New Life is coming. Look at the book of Isaiah. Chapter 39 ends by alluding to the exile under Babylon. The prophet tells Hezekiah that Babylon will someday come and take Jerusalem. We know from elsewhere in the Bible of the devastation and chaos of the deportation of exiles and ultimately the destruction of the temple in 586 BC. After all of that, the next word that we read in Isaiah is … comfort. In fact, it’s not just the first word. The second word is comfort as well.
Isaiah 40:1-11 1 Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. 2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. 3 A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 4 Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. 5 And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” 6 A voice says, “Cry out.” And I said, “What shall I cry?” “All people are like grass, and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field. 7 The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. 8 The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever. 9 You who bring good news to Zion, go up on a high mountain. You who bring good news to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the towns of Judah, “Here is your God!” 10 See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power, and he rules with a mighty arm. See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. 11 He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.
May we hear this message from the messenger. All people are like grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall. Just this past week, the last golden leaves from my last tree to shed leaves finally lost its leaves. All of my trees are barren. All of my leaves have fallen. Winter has come. It is the natural season of death. People are like this. We are mortal. We die. We do not live forever. On our own, we will die and cease to exist. Jerusalem died. The people died. But there is one who does not die. The word of our God endures forever because God endures forever. God lives forever.
So look at verse 9. Bring good news to Zion. There is good news. Once again, this is the gospel. What is the good news? The Sovereign Lord comes with power and like a shepherd gently gathers the sheep. The exile is over. The good news, the gospel, is this. The king is coming to reign and make all things new. Death is over. New Creation is coming.
Mark begins his gospel like this to show that it’s all about new creation. Notice how he starts. The beginning. It’s the same start as Genesis. Mark wants us to hear this as a new creation story. It all begins with John enacting the words of Isaiah that exile is over. The Messiah will bring comfort. The Messiah will bring life out of the ashes. If this is true, and I believe it is, it changes everything. If this is true, and I believe it is, then you can build your life around it. If this is true, and I believe it is, it shapes how you view everything. Do you believe that Jesus brings new life out of the ashes?
Let me tell you about one of the weirdest things I’ve ever been involved in. I’ll set it up this way. On May 18, 1980, the volcano, Mount St. Helens, erupted in Washington state. I have no memory of that eruption, as I was only 2. But in elementary school, I remember being mesmerized by pictures and stories of it. Then, in July of 1988, on a family trip, I visited Mount St. Helens. At that point, it was all still very barren. Near the mountain, it looked like the surface of the moon. The day we visited, I remember feeling scared and nervous all day. My dad and grandparents drove our rental car as close they allowed visitors. I didn’t want to be anywhere close to it. At age 10, I worried about it exploding again. Like we often did at parks, we went to hear a park ranger give a talk. This upbeat giddy park ranger talked about the natural process of volcanoes. He talked about how volcanoes actually slowly emit more lava as a way of building back up. As the hot lava hardens, the mountain grows again. The crater begins a mountain. Moreover, he talked about how new life would come from the hillsides and that flowers would gradually grow more and more. It looked like the darkest place I’d ever been, and he kept pointing to signs of life. He kept talking about how lava was actually a good thing. We should root for lava, so the mountain would come back to life. To top it all off, he led us in a chant of “lava, lava, lava.” I refused to participate. It scared me. Creepy park ranger. But he was right. In July of 2010, thirty years after the eruption, Beth and I visited Mount St. Helens. As we turned off the exit, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything was green. Everything looked lush. If you looked closely, you could still see the scars. But no one could deny this truth. The mountain had come back to life. New life had come out of the ashes. On that sunny July day, as we drove down I-5, from Seattle to Portland, catching views of Mount Rainier and the new Mount St. Helens, I felt a deep sense of…you guessed it…comfort. I was overwhelmed by a sense of comfort.
If John the Baptist got a job as a park ranger, he would have us all chant, “lava, lava, lava.” Because more than anything, John wants us to know that new life is coming. Jesus, the source of life, is coming. This is good news. Do you believe this news? Does this news bring you comfort?
In these days, we long for comfort. The COVID numbers are not encouraging. We grieve with those who have died and those who have lost loved ones. Our political process shows signs of immense strain. Many cry out for justice. Many struggle to put food on the table and roof over their head. Many wonder when they’ll ever get another hug. 2020 has brought a lot of bad news. There’s no denying that bad news.
But take comfort, there is good news. And the good news is greater than the bad news. New life is coming. Jesus is coming. Do you hear your Father? He boldly speaks to forces of evil and the powers of death that bind us, “Release my child into my custody”, and he gets his way. Do you see the Shepherd? The shepherd gently gathers the sheep into his arms.
Family, I pray that you feel the Lord’s comfort today and every day. I pray that you build your life around this truth. I pray that you allow this reality to shape how you see everything. Good wins over evil. Life conquers death. Signs of life rise from the ashes. Hear the good news. Believe the gospel. Jesus is Lord. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.
