My
mom recently told me about a trend called “earthing” in which one puts one’s
bare feet in the dirt, sand, grass, etc. for thirty minutes each day. Allegedly
by doing this practice once a day one will receive the free electrons on the
surface of the earth. This can help with anything from a mild sickness to jet
lag. After trying it a few times—while remaining somewhat skeptical—I realized
that if nothing else I was grounding myself in something much larger than
myself. Whatever one calls the process of disconnecting from all the technology
and buzz of modern life and grounding oneself in this earth, our fragile, island
home, does not appear to matter as much as what one might find there.
Today
we celebrate the transferred feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist who
stands out as a pioneer of earthing. Sure, he would not have called it that,
and perhaps would resent that we have even connected him with such a trend.
Still, he might as well serve as the patron saint of solitude, silence, and wilderness.
Before getting to the last line in today’s Gospel lesson, let us rewind to
where John’s life got started.
John’s
mother Elizabeth was unable to get pregnant, like Sarah before her she was said
to be barren. However, one day her husband Zechariah was minding his own business
working as a priest in the Temple when an angel of the Lord appeared to him. The
angel told him that Elizabeth would have a child and he was to name him John. Zechariah
could not believe it and when he questioned the abilities of God he was struck
dumb. Being in the midst of my wife’s pregnancy at this very moment I can tell
you that a silent husband could possibly be an upgrade. I am sure it also
created some problems for planning what was to come.
Once
Mary came to visit her cousin Elizabeth the elder cousin gave birth to a son.
When everyone thought his name ought to be something more familial, like Zechariah,
the father scribbled out that the child’s name was to be John. Everyone was
amazed; however, what stands out as even more amazing came when Zechariah began
to sing out God’s praise and prophecy.
Zechariah’s
song foretold of John’s ministry, the coming of the Messiah, and the hope of
Israel being fulfilled. In this song the people of God are freed, the promises
of old are kept, worship happens without fear, and this child named John will
be the prophet of the one coming to complete all of this. Strangely though, living
up to these expectations could not have happened where John to follow directly
in his father’s footsteps. In fact, John could not have lived within the normal
bounds of humanity. Instead, John had to step outside to do something
different.
John
the Baptist lived a different sort of life. John grew strong in spirit but he
remained out in the wilderness until his time of public ministry came to be. He
lived out in the middle of nowhere, presumably earthing all the time with his
feet in the desert sand. We may like to have fun at John’s expense, as we think
of him wearing camel’s hair clothing and eating locusts and wild honey. And
yet, his life path teaches me that for one to see how God brings about the fulfillment
of his loving covenant, repentance of sins, and freedom to live in a new way
one must step outside what is normal.
Out
in the wilderness John found more than just a way to connect with the earth. Solitude
causes one to confront even the most repressed wounds, the hardest truths, and
the greatest mistakes. Often getting away from everything makes one aware of
the wilderness within oneself. There in the midst of the wild God comes not to
order everything, but to bring about growth and life and refreshment.
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