Luke 3.1-6
The gospel reading from Luke begins with a roll call of key political and religious leaders of the day: Tiberius, the Roman Emperor; Pontius Pilate, Tiberius’ representative in Judea; Herod, leader of Jewish residents in Galilee; Philip and Lysanias, the same roles further north and east; Annas and Caiaphas, important religious figures, high priests.
Luke is a careful historian, meticulous in his work. He names these names to place his gospel in the context of world history. Faith is not merely an interior, spiritual thoughts but trusts that God is at work in the world; God comes into the world as we know it and to our lives as we live them. Yet Luke’s list of powerful people on the political and religious landscape is about more than history. After all, we could compile a list of our own as we move from one president to another, as cabinet appointees come and go, and as the diocese prepares to elect a new bishop. Wouldn’t it be easier simply to say 2024? It would! But Luke wants us to see something else, not only history but theology. After he points us in the direction of people of visible power, he turns us in the opposite direction. It’s as though he says, ‘You’ve seen them Now look over there.’ “The word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.”
Today Luke is showing us how and where to see God at work in the world. A third of today’s short gospel reading is devoted to people of visible power. Though while the word of God appears among them, it does not appear to them. Curious. I wonder why that is. A writer and preacher named Christopher Ash reminds us of what we all know—that even today people of visible power still call the shots: news commentators and talk show hosts; celebrities and politicians, bloggers and people with millions of followers on social media. They are the influencers and shapers of culture. Or so they think. Luke turns our attention elsewhere.
“The word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.” This should be as surprising now as it was then. Google Maps doesn’t even know how to compute the term ‘wilderness’ unless you add ‘rustic lodge’ or ‘chic resort’ to it. Only ‘chic wilderness resort’ is definitely not where we meet John the Baptist today. In a world of visible power, God chooses a prophet on the margins and a place without a name and appears there.“The voice of one crying 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, the crooked roads shall be made straight, the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”
The background for this landscape-reshaping work of God is in the Old Testament, the 40th chapter of the prophet Isaiah. There, Isaiah writes to God’s people when they are in exile. This was the lowest point in their lives. Armies from Babylon had descended like a tornado on Jerusalem, the city God loved; the people saw the Temple, the place where God dwelt, burn. Some fled to safety in Egypt; most were taken captive and carried off to Babylon.
What would it be like for God’s promises and goodness to be swept away before your eyes? Isaiah uses words like darkness, anguish. And not only did exile mean God’s people were away from home, it also felt like they were away from God; or worse, that God had gone away from them. Isaiah, at one point, sums up everything they’re feeling. ‘We’re weary, exhausted, worn down by our troubles, don’t see how things will get better.’ Exile. Yet when the people are sure God has forgotten them—at the lowest point in their lives, in the valley of the shadow of death—God will come to them. “Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low…the rough places smooth and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
This is a road construction project of biblical proportions, and John the Baptist is the contractor. And this work not only relandscapes the world but also changes the terrain of our lives and hearts. “John went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” John’s preaching is personal, calls us to look at the landscape of our lives, what needs changing in us through repentance and forgiveness.
John the Baptist isn’t content to let us merely point a finger at others. There’s plenty of that these days; the problems are always someone else. But finger-pointing is just another exercise of visible power demanding that others change. Instead, John says, the problems are in us; we must change and be changed. Living now, as we do, in the time between Christ’s coming at his birth and his final appearing at the end of time is to live in a wilderness of our own, contested territory where personal holiness is elusive to begin with, hard to maintain, and yet remains God’s call; things that distort and destroy and disfigure are powerful and within us.
Yet when Jesus Christ comes to us, life takes on a different perspective. We need to silence careless words that pierce someone’s joy so that we are people of peace; to rid ourselves of selfish ambition and be directed by the wisdom of God. The New Testament letter of James sees that there are desires that battle within us. “See that your hearts are pure.” Through the quiet work of repentance and forgiveness, God flattens hills and valleys in our lives, makes a way to us.
“The word of God came to John in the wilderness.” Luke turns our attention away from people and places of visible power and points us to the coming of God in the world and in your life. Today’s gospel also turns our attention to what I think remains one of the greatest theological works of the 20th century, almost 60 years old, but still relevant and so can speak to us: The Charlie Brown Christmas Special.
It’s the tree from that show that today’s gospel reading especially calls to mind. You remember how Charlie Brown is sent out to find the perfect Christmas tree. He and Linus walk through a lot filled with fake, shiny, aluminum trees (hollow, no less) in bright colors—pink, purple, orange—all very chic. “Do they still make wooden Christmas trees?” Linus asks. There is such a human disposition to be enamored by glitz and glamor and power.
Yet Linus’ question turns the focus away from everything that overwhelms them and turns them instead toward something humble and real: a scrawny tree, nothing more than a twig. That’s what repentance is, a turn in life away from everything that is false and a return to God. ‘You’ve seen them. Now look over here.’
When the tree is first brought back, it’s mocked for being scrawny and small. But when it is wrapped in love, it is transformed. Is there a better picture of the grace of God that clothes us in Christ? I’m not so sure. This is an image of salvation as we turn, and are turned, from visible power to see the place where God is at work, humble and real. Charlie Brown’s love for that imperfect tree like God’s love for us in our imperfect lives. And it changes us.
What does that mean for us today and on in the future? When we read elsewhere along in Luke, we discover more of what it looks like when God makes a way to us, when God’s salvation comes to us. It looks like Jesus, Jesus the Word made flesh. Jesus was born for us in the small town of Bethlehem—not a place visible power but the littlest of Judah’s clans. And when Jesus Christ comes to us, we do see life from a different point of view. In Jesus Christ, you can look at emperors like Tiberius and Pilate all their modern, hollow, tin-plated counterparts and see them with the proper perspective. You can look at the powers of sin, death, evil and all their counterparts—disaster and disease, suffering and loneliness, stress and strife, so many things that overwhelm—and see that nothing can separate you from the love of God now coming to you in Jesus. And you can take an honest look at the landscape of your life, a fearless survey, and trust that in your wilderness, through repentance and forgiveness, God will find a way through the obstacles of your sin and brokenness and come to you.
“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.”
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