The Preaching of John the Baptist

Luke 3: 1,6

 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.

He went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah: “A voice of one crying out in the desert: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Discussion Questions:

1. Luke begins by naming the civil and religious authorities who try and block John and Jesus’ ministries. Where do you see authorities blocking their (John and Jesus’s) ministries in our time?
2. Baptism and repentance is about renewal. Dying to a previous life and emerging to a new life. As this year comes to a close and a new year begins, what do you hope to let go of, leave behind, or “die to”? What “new life” do you hope will emerge in you?
3. Describe a “wilderness time” in your life when you experienced repentance as a deeper change of heart that went “beyond your mind”?
4. What crooked paths in your life need to be straightened or leveled in order to prepare the way for God’s healing and forgiveness this Advent?

God’s forgiveness is freely given. But our lack of repentance is a door we close, preventing God’s forgiveness from being received and from taking root within us. Without true repentance, we cannot open our hearts and minds enough to move to new ways of seeing, which lead to new ways of being.

Biblical Context

Luke 3:1-6
John Shea

This clever, opening sentence in Luke’s Gospel cuts two ways. On one level, it is the proper way to historically date an event. It names the ruling parties, beginning with Roman overlords, proceeding to Jewish rulers, and finally acknowledging Temple authorities. Hierarchical protocol is finally acknowledging Temple authorities. Hierarchical protocol is situating Him in the context of the major players of the day.

On another level, it is a scathing theological judgment on the Roman and Jewish political leadership and the religious establishment. The Word of God has bypassed them all. The political and religious leaders are meant to be mediators of the divine throne; earthly authority participates in divine authority. But the Word of God does not stop at palaces or the temple. Instead, it searches out a priest’s son who is also a prophet and finds him in the desert. The desert is a place of purification and inner scrutiny, far from the machinations of power.

John’s baptism is an outer ritual meant to express and facilitate an inner process. A standard interpretation is: as dirt is washed off by water, so sin is washed away by baptism. Another interpretation sees the submerged person dying to their previous life, returning to the waters of the womb, and emerging from the waters into a new life. Neither of these interpretations names the intricacies of inner process. Instead, they stress change, a transition from one state to another.

The intricacies of the inner change process are captured in the phrase a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” “Repentance’ is a translation of the Greek word metanoia.  Metanoia literally means ‘going beyond the mind.” When we are able to go beyond the mind, forgiveness of sins follows. This is an enigmatic connection. It assumes there is something about the mind that holds onto sins; and there is something about going beyond the mind that lets go of sins.

This going beyond the mind to let go of sins is not an end in itself. For John the Baptist it is the necessary work of preparation. Borrowing the language of Isaiah, he sees himself as a construction worker. He is building a highway for the arrival of the Lord. Whatever is an obstacle will be eliminated. If the road is winding, it will be straightened. If it is rough, it will be smoothed. If a mountain is in the way, it will be flattened. If a valley slows travel time, it will be lifted into a flat surface. The effect of these multiple images is a sense of determination. Whatever is needed to ease the Lord’s arrival will be done. This is a man on a mission. But what is this “going beyond the mind to let go of sins” preparation for?

The account of Jesus’ baptism gives a symbolic answer. In the Gospel of Luke, when Jesus comes out of the water, he prays. In prayer the sky opens, the Spirit as a dove descends, and the heavenly voice affirms, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased”. (Luke 3:22) This is the goal of the going beyond the mind and forgiving sins. It readies the baptized person to hear the transcendent word of love. Without forgiveness of sins, people are blind and deaf to the descent of the dove and the voice from the sky. The full process entails going beyond the mind to let go of sins and receive the Holy Spirit. This is what happens to Jesus, and this is what can happen to his followers. John’s highway is ultimately a path to let God get close, to make it possible to welcome Jesus as the Giver of the Spirit.

What has Laid Claim to your Life?

Reflection
Fr. Michael K. Marsh

The unforeseeable future is contained in the word of God that came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. It’s the promise of Advent. It’s the hope in today’s gospel (Luke 3:1-6). It’s at the heart of John’s proclaiming a baptism of repentance. And the coming of that future, its advent in our lives, necessarily focuses our attention on the past.

What do you see when you look at your past? What are the feelings and thoughts?

For some the past is a painful memory, a chain that still binds, a lost chance, a failing grade. For others the past brings about a smile of gratitude, maybe nostalgia, or even a longing for the good old days. For most of us the past is probably a mixture of the two.

Regardless of how we view our past, regardless of what did or not happen back then, to the degree we are enmeshed, entangled, or enslaved to our past, “we can expect the future to look like the past” (Caputo, The Weakness of God, 169). We repeat the same patterns, tell ourselves the same old stories, and listen to same old voices. And not much changes. Life becomes static and we are stuck in the past trying to live a life that is no longer.

John’s call for repentance is the call for us to face and deal with our past. While we cannot undo or alter the past, we can break free from it. “When God holds sway, the past is dismissed. Where God rules, the past does not rule” (Caputo, The Weakness of God, 169). That does not mean the past has no consequences for our future. It means that the past does not necessarily have to define us or determine our future. The question behind repentance, therefore, is not about what we have done or left undone, what has happened or not happened to us, but about what has laid claim to our life. The past reveals who and what has laid claim to our life.

In that regard, repentance is not so much about changing from bad to good, wrong to right, sinner to righteous (though there is certainly nothing wrong with any of those). It’s about freedom from our past. It’s about a change of heart that let’s ourselves be laid claim to by another (Caputo, The Weakness of God, 143). It’s about letting ourselves be laid claim to by something new, something different, something unimaginable and impossible. Maybe that’s the difference between John and all those other people named in today’s gospel.

The word of God did not come to the palaces and headquarters of the powers that be. It came in the wilderness. It did not come to the emperor, the governor, the rulers, or the high priests. It came to a wild man, a prophet, a voice crying in the wilderness.

The word of God laid claim to John’s life in a way it did not lay claim on those other lives. Perhaps political power, economic security, and religious certainty had already laid claim to their lives, whereas the powerlessness, insecurity, and uncertainty of the wilderness had laid claim to John’s life. Maybe that’s the gift, the grace, that the wilderness times of life bring us. And I wonder, which is it for you?

What has laid claim to your life? And in what ways has that claim bound you to the past and denied you a new life, a fresh start, a transforming future? Maybe it’s fear, anger, disappointment, guilt, regret. Maybe it’s loss, despair, or sorrow. Maybe it’s busyness, ambition, the need for approval, to be successful. Maybe it’s a broken relationship, a broken heart, a harsh and critical voice. There are thousands of claims being made on us.

I don’t want us to rehash the past and talk about what we could’ve or should’ve done, or how we can improve ourselves. That’s not repentance and that’s not what John is proclaiming in today’s gospel. Those are just more fraudulent claims on our lives. I want us to let the past be our teacher, a voice that calls us into a new life. I want us to face and deal with our past in order to wake up, to break free, and let ourselves be more fully claimed by faith, hope, love; God’s faith in us, God’s hope for us, God’s love of us.

What would your life look like if the primary claims on you were faith, hope, and love? What doors would open to you? How would that change your relationships? How might you see and engage the world and others differently?

I don’t know what claims your life today. I don’t know the stories of your past. But I can tell you this. This repentance, this breaking free from the past, fills the valleys and low places of our lives, brings low the mountains and hill that were previously beyond our reach, straightens the crooked parts of our lives, and smooths the rough ways.

What claims your life today? Which claims are fraudulent and need to be denied? And what would it take to open yourself to be laid claim to by something new, some different, something that promises the possibility of the impossible?

Spiritual Commentaries and Teachings are excerpted from The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers by John Shea © 2004 by Order of Saint Benedict. Published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota. Used with permission.

Reflection excerpt from Interrupting the Silence, Fr. Michael K. Marsh. Used by permission