The Journey: Preparing the Way
In the fifteenth year of the reign of
Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod
was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of
Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the
high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son
of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the
Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,
as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
‘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 the crooked shall be made straight,and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”’
Something’s
going on between the lines of today’s scripture. I’m going to read it
again, and paraphrase what I think is being said by not being said.
It was the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, and the word of God did not come to the ruler of the Roman Empire. Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and the word of God did not come to him. Herod and his brothers presided over the Eastern Mediterranean world, and the word of God did not come to them. It was during the time when Annas and Caiaphas were the high priests of the Jewish Temple, and the word of God didn’t even come to them. The word of God came to John, son of Zechariah, in the wilderness.
After giving us the names and offices of the most powerful people of the day, Luke says the word of God bypasses the centers of power. The word comes to a hairy, cave-dwelling hermit who outside the thrones of power. It’s kind of a Luke thing. In the previous chapter, our well-known Christmas story of Luke 2, Mary and Joseph are told there is no room in the Inn. They must go to the barn to have the baby. The Word of God incarnate comes to the world from the outside. Luke tells us, “There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night … And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid” (2:9). The first ones to hear about the birth of the new Kinge are sheep herders, a marginalized peasant class who experienced the oppression and exploitation of the Empire. Rejected and outside, they hear the Good News of the coming incarnate Word.
Thomas Merton has a classic essay from 1966 called “The Time of the End Is the Time of No Room.” Merton insists we must understand the severity of our present time. We need to understand that we are in a world inhospitable to God Incarnate, the Prince of Peace. The Inn was too crowded and there was no room for Jesus. Merton says that we live in the time of the Crowd: where there is a “vast indefinite roar of armies on the move and the restlessness of turbulent mobs.” It is a time of “the display of power, hubris, and destruction;” a time of “suspicion, hatred, and distrust.” He goes on to say that this is the time when, “…everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, with saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and place the anguish produced within them by technological furies of size, volume, quantity, speed, number, price, power, and acceleration … We are numbered in the billions, and massed together, marshaled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment … nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.”
He says, “There is no room for quiet. There is no room for solitude. There is no room for thought. There is no room for attention. There is no room for the Good News because it is drowned out with all of the noise.
And we want it so badly, don’t we. When I read the news, or thumb through my social media feeds, I want some good news. I want the powerful, the rich, the famous … the insiders … to finally offer me some inspiration. My attention yearns for the insiders to give me something more than distraction and entertainment.
I expect the word of God to visit the powerful. I noticed it in some of my reactions to Mr. Trump during the funeral for President George H.W. Bush. Much was made of how Mr. Trump did not really participate in the service – he did not sing the hymns or recite the Apostle’s Creed with other worshippers. He looked out of place and uncomfortable in the high church setting of the National Cathedral. He took a lot of teasing. I suspect some people thought that if he was in church, maybe God would speak to him. Maybe God did speak to Mr. Trump. But if Luke’s gospel is right, we should never expect it in the first place.
Consider how immigration legislation is discussed in the corridors of power. Immigrants are trotted out like figure heads, but the primary groups at the table are chambers of commerce, industry and defense contractor lobby groups, and a handful of DC-based immigration lobby groups vying with one another for a place at the table. The arguments always boil down to political realities and NEVER about what is best for immigrants as defined by immigrants. So, the decisions lack empathy. There is no room in the inn, so to speak, for the word of God to become alive and show us a better way.
The word of God comes to those who live and work outside the crowded inns of power and wealth and influence. The Gospel comes to those who can find no room in the Inn – the drowned-out, the crowded-out, the missed-out, the worn-out, and the left-out – like John the Baptist. The outsider is the one who hears the word, the outsider is the one preaches the word of repentance and forgiveness of sin. Would John have heard if he lived within the power and noise?
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but here it comes – churches are notalways the best places to hear the word of God. If it’s true that God’s word is best received on the outside, then maybe church isn’t the first place to go. Yes, church attendance has many benefits. And I like to think I offer some Good News each week. And, even though we complain a lot about how the church is losing influence and interest, the church still thrives on the inside. Even here at CCC, we can afford to make close to a million dollars of capital improvements to our properties. Yes, it seems necessary. Yes, I support the costs. And, I wonder if it all distracts us from hearing the word of God. Knowing the word of God. Living the word of God. I’m becoming more convinced that we will only experience it on the outside. The word of God comes when we can say ‘no’ to the way the world is and begin to create a new world built not on injustice, greed, individualism and passivity, but rather a world based on justice, community, solidarity, action and love of the other. I’m not sure how to get there, yet – how to abandon and reject the current power structures and social practices — how to become part of a spirituality that is much bigger, more intelligent and rational, and certainly more real, necessary and true than anything the insiders can offer.
Who will prepare the way? We prepare the way for God to live among us – at least that’s what we’ve been told. But let’s not overlook my key point. Those on the outside have heard the Good News. We need to prepare the way to hear from them. How do we receive the word of God from those who live outside? How can we allow some wildness and wilderness to enter our tame, predictable institutions? When the word of God comes, who will straighten our crooked paths and smooth our rough ways?
The poor, the displaced, those in the shadows of depression, the residents of nursing homes, migrants tear gassed on the border and refugees caught in war by powerful armies, those without homes living on streets of the wealthiest nation in the world, and all those overwhelmed with grief … Women who talk about their sexual abuse publicly and protest men’s abuse of power, African-Americans who call out the killing of the on innocent by police … The Good News comes to all who suffer, who search, who are outside. I have no doubt these are John the Baptist’s spiritual relatives, living outside, in the wilderness, hearing the word and call us to repentance. How will we listen?
It was the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, and the word of God did not come to the ruler of the Roman Empire. Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and the word of God did not come to him. Herod and his brothers presided over the Eastern Mediterranean world, and the word of God did not come to them. It was during the time when Annas and Caiaphas were the high priests of the Jewish Temple, and the word of God didn’t even come to them. The word of God came to John, son of Zechariah, in the wilderness.
After giving us the names and offices of the most powerful people of the day, Luke says the word of God bypasses the centers of power. The word comes to a hairy, cave-dwelling hermit who outside the thrones of power. It’s kind of a Luke thing. In the previous chapter, our well-known Christmas story of Luke 2, Mary and Joseph are told there is no room in the Inn. They must go to the barn to have the baby. The Word of God incarnate comes to the world from the outside. Luke tells us, “There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night … And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid” (2:9). The first ones to hear about the birth of the new Kinge are sheep herders, a marginalized peasant class who experienced the oppression and exploitation of the Empire. Rejected and outside, they hear the Good News of the coming incarnate Word.
Thomas Merton has a classic essay from 1966 called “The Time of the End Is the Time of No Room.” Merton insists we must understand the severity of our present time. We need to understand that we are in a world inhospitable to God Incarnate, the Prince of Peace. The Inn was too crowded and there was no room for Jesus. Merton says that we live in the time of the Crowd: where there is a “vast indefinite roar of armies on the move and the restlessness of turbulent mobs.” It is a time of “the display of power, hubris, and destruction;” a time of “suspicion, hatred, and distrust.” He goes on to say that this is the time when, “…everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, with saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and place the anguish produced within them by technological furies of size, volume, quantity, speed, number, price, power, and acceleration … We are numbered in the billions, and massed together, marshaled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment … nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.”
He says, “There is no room for quiet. There is no room for solitude. There is no room for thought. There is no room for attention. There is no room for the Good News because it is drowned out with all of the noise.
And we want it so badly, don’t we. When I read the news, or thumb through my social media feeds, I want some good news. I want the powerful, the rich, the famous … the insiders … to finally offer me some inspiration. My attention yearns for the insiders to give me something more than distraction and entertainment.
I expect the word of God to visit the powerful. I noticed it in some of my reactions to Mr. Trump during the funeral for President George H.W. Bush. Much was made of how Mr. Trump did not really participate in the service – he did not sing the hymns or recite the Apostle’s Creed with other worshippers. He looked out of place and uncomfortable in the high church setting of the National Cathedral. He took a lot of teasing. I suspect some people thought that if he was in church, maybe God would speak to him. Maybe God did speak to Mr. Trump. But if Luke’s gospel is right, we should never expect it in the first place.
Consider how immigration legislation is discussed in the corridors of power. Immigrants are trotted out like figure heads, but the primary groups at the table are chambers of commerce, industry and defense contractor lobby groups, and a handful of DC-based immigration lobby groups vying with one another for a place at the table. The arguments always boil down to political realities and NEVER about what is best for immigrants as defined by immigrants. So, the decisions lack empathy. There is no room in the inn, so to speak, for the word of God to become alive and show us a better way.
The word of God comes to those who live and work outside the crowded inns of power and wealth and influence. The Gospel comes to those who can find no room in the Inn – the drowned-out, the crowded-out, the missed-out, the worn-out, and the left-out – like John the Baptist. The outsider is the one who hears the word, the outsider is the one preaches the word of repentance and forgiveness of sin. Would John have heard if he lived within the power and noise?
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but here it comes – churches are notalways the best places to hear the word of God. If it’s true that God’s word is best received on the outside, then maybe church isn’t the first place to go. Yes, church attendance has many benefits. And I like to think I offer some Good News each week. And, even though we complain a lot about how the church is losing influence and interest, the church still thrives on the inside. Even here at CCC, we can afford to make close to a million dollars of capital improvements to our properties. Yes, it seems necessary. Yes, I support the costs. And, I wonder if it all distracts us from hearing the word of God. Knowing the word of God. Living the word of God. I’m becoming more convinced that we will only experience it on the outside. The word of God comes when we can say ‘no’ to the way the world is and begin to create a new world built not on injustice, greed, individualism and passivity, but rather a world based on justice, community, solidarity, action and love of the other. I’m not sure how to get there, yet – how to abandon and reject the current power structures and social practices — how to become part of a spirituality that is much bigger, more intelligent and rational, and certainly more real, necessary and true than anything the insiders can offer.
Who will prepare the way? We prepare the way for God to live among us – at least that’s what we’ve been told. But let’s not overlook my key point. Those on the outside have heard the Good News. We need to prepare the way to hear from them. How do we receive the word of God from those who live outside? How can we allow some wildness and wilderness to enter our tame, predictable institutions? When the word of God comes, who will straighten our crooked paths and smooth our rough ways?
The poor, the displaced, those in the shadows of depression, the residents of nursing homes, migrants tear gassed on the border and refugees caught in war by powerful armies, those without homes living on streets of the wealthiest nation in the world, and all those overwhelmed with grief … Women who talk about their sexual abuse publicly and protest men’s abuse of power, African-Americans who call out the killing of the on innocent by police … The Good News comes to all who suffer, who search, who are outside. I have no doubt these are John the Baptist’s spiritual relatives, living outside, in the wilderness, hearing the word and call us to repentance. How will we listen?
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