Sunday, December 5th, 2021 – Second Sunday in Advent
Philip’s Reflection: “A Voice in the Wilderness” (Luke 3:4)
For many of us, the past 18 months has been a wilderness time – not perhaps in the
dictionary sense of wilderness as “a wild or uncultivated region” – although that might
not be all that far from the truth; but “wilderness” in the sense of “spiritual” wilderness –
a time or place where we often feel alone, or isolated, lacking a clear sense of direction,
wandering, perhaps a bit lost, unsure how to get out or through or how long it will take,
or whether we’ll run out of energy or patience and, more existentially, when we search
for meaning or purpose. It’s a place we didn’t choose to go to, one that has disrupted
and changed our lives forever, and it’s still causing immense loss and suffering in many
areas of the world; and our hearts go out this morning particularly to the people of
Africa, where the news that only 6% of the population is vaccinated is a shocking
reminder, not only of “vaccine inequity”, but more generally of injustice in the world that
goes far deeper, and will remain with us far longer, than a global pandemic.
Although often bleak and desolate, the good news is that “wilderness”, even the
wilderness of a global pandemic, can also be a place of spiritual growth. In different
times, when life seems to be crowded or overwhelming, or in times of loss and grieving,
we may even crave the solitude and space of wilderness – the wildness and beauty of
nature, some distance, an escape from day-to-day pressures, when time alone doesn’t
have to be a lonely time, where solitude can be life-giving, perhaps even life-changing in
a positive way. And this was as true in biblical times as it is for us today and as you
heard in our call to worship this morning, it is in the wilderness that “the word of God
came to John, son of Zechariah” (Luke 3:2), who we know as John the Baptist. And
Luke goes on to tell us that this was in fulfillment of the prophet Isaiah, who wrote of
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his
paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made
low… and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’” (Luke 3:4-6). The voice in Isaiah’s
prophecy carries a message of hope for the people of Israel – God will guide you
through this wilderness, through the peaks and valleys, the bends in the road, the rough
patches – to bring an exiled people back to the Promised Land.
Luke also tells us that John proclaims “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of
sins”. “Repentance” is not simply an expression of regret, it’s more than “I’m sorry,
please excuse me” – although we do know that acknowledgment, and apology, are
often an important first step towards forgiveness and reconciliation. But the
“repentance” that John the Baptist is calling for goes well beyond apology – it literally
means “turning away from”, a complete change of mind, inner transformation –
intentionally turning from sinfulness and turning, or returning, to God, for forgiveness.
How are we to understand “repentance” today, as people living in wilderness times,
when each new day seems to bring a wave of more bad news – whether it’s a new
variant of concern, or the destructive effects of extreme weather on lives and
livelihoods; or yet another deadly school shooting, this time in Michigan. Yes, like the
shepherds, we can watch our flocks by night, waiting expectantly for God to be revealed
in the birth of “our saviour, Christ the Lord”. That’s what we do in Advent isn’t it? But
John’s message of “repentance” calls us to go further, particularly in the wilderness of a
global pandemic: yes, have faith that God will guide and provide; but we are surely
called to do more than wait and watch.
What might “repentance”, this turning away from sin and turning towards God, look like
for you? – clearly, that’s a very personal question and the answer will have a lot to do
with our social location, age or economic circumstances. Many of us don’t have the
privilege of being able to make life-changing decisions when getting through each day is
our only focus. But I want to share with you one piece of wisdom that made a lifechanging
impact for me at a time, several years ago, when I was in a spiritual desert,
well before this pandemic – it’s a Buddhist saying, I believe, that “If you’re in a desert,
and looking for water, it’s better to dig one well sixty feet deep than six wells ten feet
deep.” I heard this as a call to dig deeply into the Christian tradition that I was born into,
and grew up in, rather than to look for “spiritual water” by digging shallow wells in other
traditions. We know from experience that there is water to be found in all of those wells;
but in a wilderness time, thirsty for spiritual water, it was for me a call to go back to
school, and start digging deeply into the scripture, tradition and theology of the Christian
faith. It was, if you like, a form of repentance, an act of intentionally turning towards the
source of life, the one in whom we live and move and have our being.
And I can tell you now that the deeper you dig, the more water you will find. Jesus says
to the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well - “those who drink of the water that I will give
them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of
water gushing up to eternal life.” (John 4:14). And so it has been for me – in a
wilderness, pick a well carefully and then go deep; and you will find water.
Zechariah, a priest, and his wife Elizabeth, were also experiencing a time of wilderness,
a desolate time in Jerusalem, then occupied by the Roman imperial army. Luke tells us
they have been unable to have children and now both are “getting on in years”. And
alone in the temple one day, the old priest has a startling vision, of Gabriel, “an angel of
the Lord” and the angel tells him not to be afraid “for your prayer has been heard. Your
wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and
gladness and many will rejoice at his birth.” And Zechariah is terrified (well wouldn’t you
be?) and he questions the Angel – “How will I know that this is so?” and the Angel tells
him that, for his lack of belief, he will “become mute, unable to speak, until the day that
these things occur.” And when, some months later, Elizabeth gives birth to a son, the
neighbours ask Zechariah what the child’s name will be, and still unable to speak, he
writes on a tablet “JOHN” – and Luke tell us that his mouth is then opened, “and he
began to speak, praising God.” (1:64). And we have just heard the prophecy that
Zechariah joyfully sings, known today as the Benedictus. “Blessed be the God of Israel,
who has come to the people and set them free, who has raised up for us a mighty
saviour, born of the house of the servant David.” And his son John, will be called “the
prophet of the Most High… to go before the Lord to prepare his ways.” (1:16).
From out of a barren wilderness, Zechariah hears the voice of the Lord and God’s
blessing is revealed. From out of the wilderness, his son John, will cry out “Prepare the
way of the Lord”, promising that all people “will see the salvation of God.” So,
wilderness can also be a time of blessing and opportunity; and this is also true for us at
St. David’s, as we learn new ways of “being church”, and we are forced to question
previous assumptions. Are we listening for the voice of the one crying out in the
wilderness? Whose voice or voices do we hear? How are we to “prepare the way of the
Lord”; what is our purpose in a post-pandemic world, here in West Vancouver? Lots of
questions, yes, but if we listen carefully, we might hear the old priest Zechariah giving
us a possible vision, “in the tender compassion of our God”, he says, a new dawn is
breaking upon us, with the coming of a “mighty saviour” – “to shine on those who sit in
darkness, in the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
To shine; to accompany those in need; and to guide into the way of peace. Could there
be a more noble purpose for any community of faith?
Come now, “taste and see, the goodness of the Lord.” Amen.
December 5th, 2021