If we are sending a letter, we would normally put our address, telephone number and the date at the top of the first page. By doing this we identify the time and place we live in, in case the person receiving the letter wants to reply. But if we were in a place where someone, say, a doctor, was worried about our connection to reality itself, they might ask us the name of the current monarch, prime minister, Archbishop of Canterbury, and all that.
The clever opening of the third chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel does a version of this. Luke names the Roman Overlords,- Tiberius Caesar and Pontus Pilate, the Jewish Kings – Herod, Philip and Lysanias, and those who have authority in the Temple – Annas and Caiaphas. We know John’s time and place by placing him alongside the so-called leaders of his day. But looked at from another angle, St. Luke is making a scathing judgment on these leaders. For although each, in their own way, claim to be mediators of sacred things, the Word of God sidesteps the lot of them and makes its way to a priests’ son, who is also a prophet, and who lives in the desert. John’s desert is a place of utter simplicity, purity and purification. And it is with a pure and a wise heart he avoids those who seek power and territory.
When John emerges from the desert, he has God on his mind and a very clear call to repentance or ‘metanoia’. His baptism which, on the surface, ‘washes sins away’ or ‘drowns one life to begin another’, is really a journey into the strange landscape of the human heart. John has only one agenda, one mission – and it is the forgiveness of sins. But the sins which have been forgiven (repentance) must also be let go (metanoia) by the mind which wants to hang onto them.
John enters the human heart like a construction worker building a motorway. If there is a valley, it will be filled. If there is an obstacle, say a mountain, in the way, it will be flattened. If the road is too windy, it will be made straight. It if is too rough, it will be made smooth. Whatever is needed to make the Advent of Gods Mercy arrive, will be done.
To grasp what John is doing we need to look for a moment at the Baptism of Jesus. In John’s presence, Jesus goes down into the water and He prays. The heavens open and the Spirit descends. The Father speaks, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.” (Lk 3,22). This is the goal of forgiveness and metanoia. Unless we know we are forgiven, and unless our mind can move in joy to letting go of those sins, we will be blind and deaf to the gift of the Spirit. Johns’ motorway is only there to let God get close enough, through Jesus, to fill us with the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Why is this so important? My own experience of sin is that it’s like superglue. We can all easily remember the story of the sins that were committed against us. It is much easier to remember the wrongs done to us than the blessings we have received through others. Soon we learn to sin back and wound others. And most of us, if we are honest, tell the story of our lives in terms of blows received and blows given. It is a ‘tale of sin’ which powerfully shapes our self-understanding. Worse still, as we nurture this version of ourselves, we elevate sin to a status it does not deserve. Little by little we are convinced that this is what is real.
The call to repentance is really an invitation to humbly acknowledge that this is part of our story. We have been wronged and we have wronged others. To avoid this kind of honest examination is a grave mistake. But we must not let our experience of sin define us. If we think that our sins cannot be forgiven, or that we cannot forgive the hurt that has been done to us, we will not blossom into Compassionate, Loving, Justice making and Respectful persons. Our experience of sin will stand like a huge roadblock which prevents The Beloved Son of God running to meet us and who has come to tell us that we are the Light of the World and the Salt of the earth. His words will not get past the armour of our hardened hearts. This is why Johns’ work must be done first so that we can let go of sin and put on the mind of Christ.
In this second week of Advent, there is a clear invitation to come home to ourselves. This door can only open when we allow God to forgive us and then let the sin go
