Showing posts with label Wilderness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wilderness. Show all posts

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Voices in the Wilderness Calling Us Home

Where's your wilderness?

 

This sermon was preached on the Second Sunday of Advent. A video of the sermon may be found by clicking here. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:

Malachi 3:1-4

Philippians 1:3-11

Luke 3:1-6

Canticle 4 or 16

 

©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson


Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

Today’s readings transport us into the wilderness, both literal and metaphorical. Out there, voices are calling us to repentance, preparation, and ultimately, to come home. The Song of Zechariah, Malachi's prophecy, Paul’s joyful thanksgiving, and Luke’s depiction of John the Baptist, all draw our attention to God’s presence unfolding in the world, breaking into the silence, and transforming our lives. Observing the richness of these things taking place within today’s powerful lessons, invites us to also journey into wilderness to listen deeply to voices crying, trusting that they hold an Advent message for us as we await Christ’s coming past, present, and yet to come.


In Malachi, we heard the promise of a messenger preparing the way. This path of refinement and purification imitates fire trying metal. Thus, walking this way is rarely comfortable, much like the wilderness can be. However, whenever we do take Christ’s way of love, God transforms our hearts and lives. Malachi pointed to this metamorphosis as he prophesied about Jesus’ forerunner, John the Baptizer. 

 

When John, the prophet of the Most High God, emerged in Luke’s Gospel, he cut a surprising figure. He was not dressed in priestly robes or seated in places of honor instead choosing to wear camel’s hair and to locate himself outside the confines of the religious structure of that day. John was a voice crying out in the wilderness, fulfilling the words of Isaiah: “Prepare the way of the Lord.”

 

You might be wondering, why did this voice have to cry out in the wilderness, as opposed to civilization? The wilderness stands out as both a physical and spiritual place of preparation. In the wild we leave behind distractions, comforts, and pretenses. It is where Zechariah (John the Baptist’s father) was silenced, forced to listen and reflect during Elizabeth’s pregnancy. It is where John heard the word of God, not in the bustling city of Jerusalem but in the stillness of the desert. The wilderness is where God strips away the noise of the world to speak directly to our hearts. 

 

Prioritizing times to journey into the wild also helps us to hear God’s still small voice more clearly. When we do, we might be surprised by what God is saying, much like the way that God surprisingly spoke to a wild preacher’s kid instead of the powerful political figures of First Century Israel.


You may have noticed that Luke’s Gospel account situated John’s ministry within the context of influential figures—Emperor Tiberius, Governor Pilate, ruler Herod, and high priests Annas and Caiaphas. Yet, the word of God bypassed all these prominent men to land upon John, the son of an aging priest and a mother who once carried a promise too good to be true. As outlandish as it sounds, God often chooses the unlikely, the overlooked, and the unexpected to carry out divine purposes. I’ve heard it phrased this way: God does not call the qualified, God qualifies the called.

 

This pattern continues today. God often bypasses the powerful to speak to the lowly. Who are the voices in our wilderness calling us to repentance and transformation? Is it a child asking us to care for creation? A stranger reminding us of our shared humanity? God is trying to speak to us, but are we making the time to listen? The Advent season invites us to listen for those unexpected voices that echo John’s call to prepare the way of the Lord.



Now John’s call of preparation was simple yet profound: “Repent, for the forgiveness of sins.” Repentance, often misunderstood, is not about punishment or shame but turning back to God. The Greek word here is metanoia and it means a transformative change of heart and mind. It is a turning away from distortion of relationship and toward healthy relationships with God, Creation, neighbor, and self. 

 

This metanoia is about recognizing the crooked paths in our lives and seeing how God can use them, straightening them, so that even our mistakes are steppingstones on the pathway towards God’s grace. This way through the wilderness then is about coming home to the One who waits with open arms, like the Father in the parable of the Prodigal Son(s) sometimes also known as the parable of the Loving Father, which we find elsewhere in Luke. 

 

Truly this theme of returning home saturates Luke’s telling of the Good News, like in these words from the Song of Zechariah: “In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Advent encourages us to remember that God’s light breaks into even the darkest places, guiding us back to peace, hope, and restoration. Perhaps that is why it feels like such a fitting season for this time of year when we recall the light of Christ coming to us when the natural world in the Northern Hemisphere is so bleak.


The implication of these readings appears clear enough—go to the wilderness to listen for God’s voice which calls us to return home to God. But, if your life is anything like mine, you might struggle with the following question: Where is my wilderness? It does not necessarily mean a desert or a forest; it might be a quiet morning with scripture, a long drive with the sound off, or a moment of stillness after the kids are asleep. The wilderness can be any place where we step away from the noise of the world to hear God’s voice calling us home. Sure, it could be out in the woods, on top of a mountain, or upon a sandy shore; however, it could also be at your kitchen table, on your sofa, or back porch.

 

This Advent, may we each find our wilderness. May God grant us time and space for silence and reflection. May we utilize those sacred gifts to listen for the voice that calls us to prepare, repent, and return home. In a world full of distractions, this is no small task, but it is in these quiet places that God speaks most clearly and we can hear God’s voice most loudly.


As we prepare for Christ’s coming, let us remember the voices in the wilderness that call us to transformation. Let us heed their message of repentance, not with fear but with hope, knowing that God’s forgiveness and grace await us. And let us prepare the way of the Lord, not just in our hearts but in our actions, making the crooked paths straight and the rough places smooth.

 

And may we, like John the Baptist, be voices in the wilderness, calling others to the peace and salvation of God. May we like Zechariah, find our tongues loosed, proclaiming the tender compassion of our God who shines light into every darkness and guides us all home. Amen.

 

Thursday, June 22, 2017

The Wilderness Within

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.

John the Baptist was the one who pointed to the coming of the Christ. His life started with a strange origin, Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy and Zechariah’s silence. Zechariah’s subsequent song foretold of John’s mission, but the way in which he went about fulfilling this calling gives us perspective on how we might point to God’s working in this world today. May we go to the wilderness to find that inner wilderness where God gives us vision to see the coming of Christ!

Monday, February 16, 2015

Lenten Resources

Are you ready?
"He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him." Mark 1:13

"Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished." Matthew 4:1-2

"Where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished." Luke 4:2

Clearly the synoptic gospel accounts give us Jesus' precedent for beginning ministry: forty days of fasting, overcoming temptation by Satan, and at the end being famished. Yet, what if we start off the journey being famished? What if we are already starving spiritually? How do we feed ourselves in the spiritual desert that can so often be the world in which we live?

When I ask people how they are doing a lot of the time they respond, "Crazy busy!" I am not alone in observing this trait. I learned about it in seminary, my rector Evan Garner has spoken about it, and Rob Bell talks about it in this podcast. We tend to fill every ounce of our proverbial cup each day such that if something unexpected happens everything overflows spilling all over the place! Sometimes we see our chalice running over as an abundance of blessings; however, if we spend much of our free time engaged in unintentional activities (I am thinking of mindless Facebook, Twitter, Instagram sessions and binge watching an entire series of ______ in particular), then we have to make room by pushing to the side our priorities that ground us, feed us, and give us life.

We cannot feed ourselves. We must allow time for God to spiritually give us life. If we remain in a constant state of busy-ness, then the glass that is our life just seems to make a huge mess distracting us from the steady stream of God's sustenance. The example Jesus offered in the desert provides for us an alternative way to life and ministry (by the way, whether you know it or not you have a ministry... it's not just for us collared people).

Jesus began his ministry by getting rid of everything else that was not God. He found God in the wilderness. He grounded his life's work in the dirt, sand, and earth that was the desert. He removed everything even food, so that God alone sustained him. Faith in God apparently provides more than enough nutritional value to persist. So what? So we move out to live beneath a palm tree? Do we give up food for forty days? No, not exactly.

This season of Lent provides us an opportunity to recognize our faulty reliance on things that are not God and to add disciplines to our lives that bring us closer to God. These forty days officially begin this Wednesday, a day known as Ash Wednesday when we remember that we are only dust and to dust we shall return. St. John's Decatur has services with the imposition of ashes at 7:00 AM, 12:10 PM, and 6:00 PM. On this day we come come face-to-face with our mortality and begin on this journey with Christ. From then until Easter we find ways to declutter our lives such that what remains brings us into the intimate life of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. You might be wondering at this point, what should I do? I thought you would never ask. Here are some helpful resources:

-Lent Madness: A fun, informative, and enlightening group spiritual practice that is based on March Madness, the NCAA Championship Basketball Tournament.

-Society of St. John the Evangelist (SSJE): The brothers at SSJE provide videos and workbooks to remember that Lent is "Time to… Stop, Pray, Work, Play & Love!"

-Read something that reminds you of God's presence, grace, and love in your life. There are lots of resources from Church Publishing. Or, you can try something yourself, like reading the Chronicles of Narnia to reconnect with your childlike love of and wonder about the Divine.

-St. John's Decatur: Every day of Lent St. John's Decatur will offer a Lenten meditation that brings some insight on our journey with God. Click here to view our page (and if you enjoy it please like our page).

-Church offerings: Most Episcopal churches offer some program during Lent. St. John's has a Wednesday night program that begins at 5:30 with a meal. There are some churches with noteworthy offerings, in particular Nativity, Huntsville and The Cathedral of the Advent, Birmingham.

-40 Bags in 40 Days: This might seem ambitious, but if these 40 days are to remove distractions that keep us from God, then this practice of giving away material things might be a very fitting practice for some.

Some suggestions from my friend James Franklin from St. James, Wilmington, NC:

-Pray each day for some of your Facebook friends (# of friends/40).

-Ride a bike or walk to work.

-Go screenless outside of work.

-Pray Daily Office.

-Read a book a week cover to cover.

-Compost.

-Clean out inbox and keep it clean.

-Fast like a monk (sun up to sun down... drink a heavy beer at noon... wait, what?)

If you have other suggestions, feel free to add them in the comments section!