Sermon for MHBC (5 December 2021; 2nd Sunday of Advent). You can listen on Facebook, YouTube, Vimeo, or our website. Live at 11:00am on Sundays. Also available as a podcast here or by searching “Monument Heights Baptist Church” in your favorite podcast app.
Advent is a season at odds with the world. Properly understood it is at odds with the so-called “holiday season.” Advent is the season where we look at the current state of the world and we grieve. We grieve because the world is tragically broken. But that also means that during Advent there is opportunity to proclaim something new. And that’s precisely what we find in John the Baptizer. He’s a voice crying in the wilderness—a flicker of light in a world engulfed by darkness.
In an Advent sermon, Fleming Rutledge writes, “Like John the Baptist, Advent is out of phase with its time, with our time. It encroaches uncomfortably upon us, making us feel some degree of dissonance with its stubborn resistance to the usual round of shopping and wrapping and baking and partying. I have never seen a picture of John the Baptist on any Advent calendar, yet he is the foremost figure of Advent.”[1]
For this reason, we are looking at John’s message this morning. His message is to proclaim the arrival of the Lord, the King of the universe. And with such a message comes earth-shattering realities. Things will never be the same because the Lord is on the move. His arrival means everything will be forever changed.
Let’s begin with vv. 1–3: In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness. And he went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
There’s a lot of historical background in these verses that place us sometime around the year 26 or 27. But more important than historical information is the contrast in these verses. We are bombarded with the names of those in power, both politically and religiously. But there’s a contrast with the Word of God that came to John. While these political and religious figures may see themselves in power and while others might recognize their authority, John is driven by a different authority—the very Word of the living God. We see how John stands in opposition to the world. Armed with the Word of God he preaches an alternative message.
Notice v. 3. He’s proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The baptism in this case is a physical act that exemplifies repentance. It is a turning away from the current pattern and a turning toward something new. And this something new is fearfully good. John’s message of judgment also means there is forgiveness for those who would receive the coming King.
Luke, and Matthew and Mark for that matter, begin by quoting a passage from Isaiah 40 to describe John’s ministry and purpose. Look at vv. 4–6:
As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet,
“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,
and the crooked shall become straight,
and the rough places shall become level ways,
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”
Pay close attention to Isaiah’s words. Isaiah says, “Prepare the way of the LORD.” In Hebrew this is the divine name Yahweh. John is the forerunner that Isaiah was talking about and that means Yahweh, the Lord Himself, is about to arrive.
There’s nothing ho-hum about this. We are perhaps accustomed to talking about this, but let’s take a moment to really fix our minds on how significant this message is. The living God is on the move. Preparation is being made. The one true God is invading this world. That is colossal, which explains Isaiah’s language quoted in v. 5. He says the natural order is going to be reversed. Valleys will be filled. Mountains will be leveled. The crooked will be straight. The rough will be smooth. How else do you describe the arrival of the God of the universe? His arrival alters everything.
And v. 6 tells us that everyone will see the salvation of God. Now I want to take this opportunity to say once again that Luke leaves no doubt as to the identity of Jesus. He’s not a good teacher or some sort of half-god. He is identified with Yahweh, the Lord, the same God of the OT, because these words of Isaiah are applied to Him. So occasionally you might hear someone say that Jesus is never called God or something like that. But here is a prime example of Luke calling him God by identifying Him as Yahweh.
Such a colossal moment requires a response. Look at vv. 7–9: He said therefore to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
Now John’s language might seem harsh, but don’t forget what he’s talking about. He’s talking about the Lord of the universe, the One who brings nothing into being through the word of His mouth, the eternal One who creates time itself, that’s who is coming. With that in mind, John’s language makes absolute sense. The language of judgment captures the urgency of this moment.
Consider an illustration. Imagine you live in a kingdom where the rightful king had been absent for a long time. During the rightful king’s absence, all sorts of corruption had come about. Injustice is everywhere. Those with power use it for evil. People are not treated fairly. In fact, people are mistreated and abused while those in power continue to enjoy their corruption. But one day a watchman on the wall cries out that the rightful king is just outside the gates, and he is armed for battle. And as the rightful king approaches the gates, he declares with a voice of ferocity that he is there to take back his throne and destroy the corruption in his kingdom. There are two options. Fight against the rightful king or resist those who have usurped the throne.
This is the situation that John is describing. The rightful King is at the gates and the whole world is about to feel his ferocity. So John says, “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance.” He means there is a decision to be made. The King’s arrival demands change. It will not suffice to point to who they are related to. The King demands allegiance not family history.
John is announcing the beginning of the end, which is precisely why his language is so striking, stark, and shocking. He says the axe and the fire are ready. John is doing what all prophets do. He’s using language that seizes our attention. This is precisely what the OT prophets did when they described this moment. Amos, for example, describes the Day of the Lord as a fearful day of darkness.[2] Why? Because judgment and reckoning are coming. The Lord’s creation has too long been in the hands of corruption.
So John’s language reminds us of the urgency and necessity of repentance. In 1517, Martin Luther challenged the practices of the Roman Catholic Church. He was acting the part of John the Baptizer. Luther was a voice crying against corruption—in his case, religious corruption. When he posted his 95 points of contention, known as the 95 theses, to the door of the local church, his first point was this: “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
This is what allegiance to the King and His Kingdom looks like. It means turning from mere religious ritual and turning to the King. It means resisting the corrupt kingdoms. The announcement of the King arriving calls for resistance to the ways of the world. We might even say that it calls for each of us to be a voice in the wilderness, preaching a message that doesn’t jive with the status quo.
We see several examples of repentance in vv. 10–14: And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.” Tax collectors also came to be baptized and said to him, “Teacher, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Collect no more than you are authorized to do.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.”
Jean Donovan was born in 1953 to a well-to-do family. After earning her college degree, she enjoyed success as an accountant. But she was unsettled. She quit her job and spent two years as a lay missionary in El Salvador. El Salvador at the time was a place of great violence. In 1980, over 2000 El Salvadorians were killed in the first half of the year. Jean cared for the people by distributing food and offering medical aid to the wounded. Priests and nuns were often the targets of violent mobs. This forced many to flee, so the task of caring for Christian parishes fell to people like Jean.
At one point, Jean wrote a letter to a friend, saying: “Several times I have decided to leave El Salvador. I almost could except for the children, the poor, bruised victims of this insanity. Who would care for them? Whose heart could be so staunch as to favour the reasonable thing in a sea of their tears and loneliness? Not mine, dear friend, not mine.”
Just two weeks later, Jean and three nuns were returning from the airport when their van was stopped by six paid soldiers, who assaulted and killed them. The soldiers were ordered to humiliate and destroy “subversives.”[3]
That is a story of repentance leading to fruit. But this is also an extreme story of repentance and resistance. There are also ordinary forms of resistance such as refusing to partake in the hate and slander of the world, maintaining integrity when nobody else cares, opposing the drama and divisiveness of our society. Ordinary forms of resistance are inviting the lonely to share a spot at the holiday table, fostering and/or adopting children, rejecting the selfish spirit of consumerism, taking a Sunday morning or a Wednesday evening to worship together with other believers, being intentionally formed by a faith that is at odds with the world.
Repentance and resistance is the Christian response to a world under the weight of sin. It is the Christian response because our allegiance is to the real King.
Look at the last three verses with me: As the people were in expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Christ, John answered them all, saying, “I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
John is not the promised Messiah. He is the forerunner— “the lantern which shone in front of the Son of God.”[4] The baptism of Christ is one of decisive change. It is a baptism of purifying fire and the Holy Spirit. The language of judgment reminds us that this world is under the weight of corruption, but the King of all will do what is right. He will right every wrong.
In a moment we will come to the table to partake in a strange ordinance gifted to us by our King. It may seem insignificant, but I urge you not to believe that. When we come to the table we are participating in an act of repentance and resistance. We are repentant because we come to be nourished by the King at His table. We need this nourishment. We come not in our own merit or by our own virtue. Instead, we come proclaiming that Jesus’s death has been graciously given to us to make us righteous so that we might be the dwelling place of the living God. And it is an act of resistance because it stands opposed to the world’s insistence on policy making, endless activity, and practicality. The world views the bread and the cup as insignificant. But we must realize that what we are doing is a sacred act that marks us out as those whose allegiance belongs to the true King. The table may seem insignificant in a world of devastating corruption, but this seemingly small act is a voice in the wilderness with colossal significance.
[1] Advent: The Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ, p. 276.
[2] Amos 5:18–20
[3] https://www.northumbriacommunity.org/saints/jean-donovan-1953-1980-december-2nd/
[4] The quote is cited by Rutledge, Advent, p. 276 and attributed to Calvin.