There Was a Man Named John

 If this morning's gospel reading feels a little familiar to you, well, it should. Last week we read Mark 1:1-8. The first verse of Mark 1 is about Jesus: The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. But after that, the next seven verses are about John the Baptist. This week, we read from the first chapter of John's gospel. The first chapter of John is a lot longer than the first chapter of Mark—there's a lot going on in John 1, from an opening poem about the Word of God to the call of the first disciples. But once again we are reading a passage about John the Baptist. Now, many of you know that I use a list of readings for each week called the Revised Common Lectionary, which is put together by a large group of Christian preachers and scholars—not by me. And when I saw that this Advent two weeks in a row we would have readings about John the Baptist, I wondered why. I imagine some of you are wondering the same thing this morning: why two weeks on John the Baptist?

Waiting for Holiness

            Advent is a season for waiting. Nobody likes to wait. We’re impatient; the things we want, we want now, not later. Waiting just gets in the way. In fact, waiting is more than an inconvenience, more than just one of life’s little annoyances. Being told to wait can feel like a punishment, like you’re being deprived of something someone else has now, sooner than you have it. You go to the doctor; she has some concerns about your symptoms and orders a test. You have to wait a week to get your lab work done. Then a month to see your doctor again, who now says you need to see a specialist. Getting an appointment with the specialist takes another three months. It’s like your life has been put on hold; it almost feels like you’ve been sentenced to a prison term while time passes between tests and appointments.  All along you wonder, “What do I have to do to be first in line?” “Why do I have to wait so long?”

Knowing the Seasons

            Lace up your boots, pull up your work gloves, and strap on your crash helmets. It’s Advent, friends, and anything can happen in this season. Love and comfort, hope and joy, sure, they’ll show up. But so might fire and earthquakes, heavens ripping apart, angels appearing, and the Son of Man himself coming in glory and splendor. It’s Advent, friends, and anything can happen this season.

The Parable of the Talents

            The most important thing you need to know about the parable you just heard from Matthew’s gospel, the parable of the talents, is that the third servant, the one who buried his treasure in the ground, did exactly what he was supposed to do. In the ancient world, there was no federal insurance for banks. Investing money back then was an even bigger risk than it is today. And the safest, most reliable way to ensure you did not lose your money was to bury it. The servant who buried his master’s treasure didn’t just play it safe; he played it smart, and he played it right. His master had just given him a talent, the equivalent of at least fifteen years’ worth of wages, more money than most people would ever see at one time in those days. So he buries it, just like he’s supposed to do.