More than Metanoia

Mark 1:1-8

Advent B, Week 2

 

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

On Friday, Shayne from Johnson Music Center came to Pleasant Grove Church to reconnect some microphone wires to a soundboard at the back of the sanctuary. There was a mess of wires, unused, that he cleaned out, in the process. Hopefully, it will make things easier to use, be more clean, more straightforward. We’re set up for about six or seven mics up front. If we need more, he’ll come back and add more in. At some point, we might need them.

            Shayne talked to me while he worked. He started asking if I remembered some Christian musician from the 1980s… I said, Yeah, I probably do! Since that was an era I really paid attention to who was who. He said there was this guy named Phil Keaggy who played the guitar, one of the top guitarists in the world. Even Eric Clapton has reportedly said he’s the best. Yes, I said, I remember him. In fact, I interviewed him over the phone for a magazine article, once. Anyhow, Shayne and his band from church are opening for Phil Keaggy when he comes to the McPherson Opera House in mid-January. They’re going to be Phil’s OPENING ACT.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

            All this past week, and some before, there’s been something going on next door to the parsonage. Have you noticed? They’ve been measuring and clearing the ground, making things level so they could dig for the footings on a new addition to the north of Korey and Charity Kincaid’s house. After they leveled off the ground, they dug deep holes to put in the forms so they could pour concrete. A little cold for pouring concrete, but they did it… And soon, there’ll be a frame going up. They’ll be building on the foundation.

The Gospel of Mark begins in an unexpected way. I’ve just read some of it for you. There’s no angel coming to Mary or Joseph here, no talk about the baby Jesus’ birth. No stable, no shepherds. Just some old, dry words from a wild and lonely prophet who’s talking about another strange voice that will come someday, calling out in the middle of the wilderness.

No prophetic voice had been heard, in a long time. In fact, it had been 300 years. That’s a long time to wait, don’t you think? The people were being held in captivity, hostages in a strange land. Was there anything left to hope for? they wondered. Has God stopped sending us prophets because He has nothing left to say? But then they hear that God is sending My messenger. My messenger, he says.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

 (Isaiah 40:3) Someone is building up a great road for the arrival of a majestic king. Someone is filling in the holes, and knocking down the hills that are in the way.

Maybe for us, today, the real preparation is happening in our hearts. God moves in our lives, and a road is built. Building a road out here (finger pointing outward), building a road in here (heart): both activities are costly. Both involve lots of problems. Both require an expert engineer.

Baptism wasn’t something new in the life of the Jewish community. But it wasn’t called that, necessarily. It was more of a ceremonial immersion. Typically, the only people who went into the water and were covered up in it, completely, were Gentiles, or non-Jews who wanted to become Jewish.

In John’s day, if a Jew submitted to baptism they were essentially saying, “I confess that I am just as far away from God as a Gentile, and I need to get right with Him.” Maybe today, some of us are feeling like we are far away from God. That we need to get right with him.

So John prepares the way by baptizing—offering a ceremonial washing that allows people to confess their sin and show their repentance, or sorrow. The word for repentance in Hebrew is metanoia. A water baptism is outward and visible; it shows that something is going on inside of us, that can’t be seen.

John was not the prophet Elijah, but he sure looked like him—wild and lonely, wearing camel’s hair and a leather belt, boldly calling all of Israel to repentance. And yet, he says he’s not worthy of bending down and untying the sandals of the one who will come after him—and we know he’s talking about Jesus. In John’s day, it was said that a teacher might require his followers to do just about anything, except this: they couldn’t make their followers or students take off their sandals. They could ask for anything but that.

The Babylonian Talmud, Ketuboth 96a: “All services which a slave does for his master, a pupil should do for his teacher, with the exception of undoing his shoes.”

This person who is coming--this Messiah—is going to bring a baptism that is far greater than just repentance and water: it involves an immersion in the Holy Spirit. Can you imagine what it must be like to be dipped completely in the same life force that came upon Jesus at his own water baptism and empowered him to live out his ministry on earth as God’s Son?  This is something far greater than mere repentance, or turning. So much more than metanoia. Something life-changing is going on, inside whoever chooses to receive the Holy Spirit baptism that Jesus is bringing.

            Today, we remember our own need for baptism, for metanoia AND the Holy Spirit.  We see that John is the priest, the minister, the pastor. He proclaims and baptizes. In response, the people repent. God forgives. And Christ will soon come, bringing this new baptism with the Holy Spirit.