Scripture Text: Mark 1: 1-8 (Advent 2B)

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

²As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way;
³the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,’”

⁴John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁵And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. ⁶Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. ⁷He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. ⁸I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

Well, it must be the season of Advent because John the Baptizer has appeared!  We all know John.  Many may have sort of a love-hate relationship with him of some sort.  I mean, he’s a little weird.  He may even scare us a bit.  He wears camel’s hair secured by a leather belt (quite the fashion statement!) and we are told that he dines on locusts and honey.  And he sort of has a reputation for being loud and overly-zealous. I, for one, probably would have opted for someone a bit more, well, traditional than this wild-eyed wilderness man.  But look at the passage: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  John is the messenger that is sent ahead.  John is the beginning of the Gospel story.

Think about what that means—the beginning of the story.  A people have walked in darkness.  We have walked in darkness.  And here, as John breaks into the story, is the beginning of the Light.  Now John himself would correct me a bit and say that he was definitely NOT the Light, that the One who was Light, the One who is more powerful than John, was coming.  But it’s almost as if John begins to move the drapes a bit so that the Light that will come in full vision soon can begin to be seen.  Think of it as filtered light.  Maybe it’s harder to see.  Maybe it doesn’t illumine everything.  Maybe it’s not even bright enough for us to give it much notice.  But it is a beginning.  The Light is beginning to break.

In this version of the Gospel by the writer we call Mark, we get no build up to the story.  There is no Mary and Joseph, no angel annunciating while treading air, no long journey to Bethlehem, no stable, no shepherds, no magi, and no angels.  We have to turn to the writers known as Matthew and Luke for those familiar settings.  Mark just starts, diving in and declaring the beginning.  This is it…this is the beginning!  And then we are left hanging, not yet bathed in Light but aware of its presence.  We are beginning to see the Light that is beginning to filter in.  It is as if we are a little suspended in time waiting for the dawn to come. But it has begun.  The light has shifted toward us a bit.

Most of us spend our lives surrounded by light.  There is sunlight, electric light, candle light, dashboard lights, and our sometimes too-bright phone screen.  My dashboard has this circle of light that changes colors depending on how efficiently I’m driving.  It is odd.  (Hmm…I guess I wouldn’t notice it if I drove more efficiently more of the time!)  The thing is, we don’t always notice light itself.  We see what it illumines.  We seldom see light unless it is dark enough for us to see it.  What an odd concept!  We pay more attention to the sunrise or the sunset than we do the noonday sun.  We don’t really appreciate the notion of filtered candlelight unless the surrounding light is dim.  When it is dark, we can see the light. 

This image of John the Baptizer as the forerunner, as the beginning of the Light coming into the world is not because the light has begun to illumine and clarify what is around us.  John stands in the waning darkness and points us toward the light, tells us it’s coming into the world.  Advent is like that.  We begin in darkness, traveling through the wilderness, and we come closer and closer to the light.  It is still off in the distance.  It is still not bathing our world or showing us what we need to be.  It is beginning to peek through the darkness.  We see the Light.  It is not that for which we have waited or that for which we have hoped.  But this is the beginning of the story. 

So, look toward the light and wipe the grogginess from your eyes.  This is the moment.  This is the first light that is beginning to peek into the world, the first notion of that light coming down to us.  Look at it now because soon it will be so bright that you won’t be able to look at it.  You will only see what it illumines.  But this, filtered as it is, dim as it may be, is the beginning of the Light coming into the world.  The purpose is so that we will now know where to look. 

In every beginning, there is darkness.  The darkness of chaos seems eternal, Yet form emerges: light dawns, and life is born. (From The New Union Prayer Book)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli