The Unattractive Side of Advent

Mark 1:1-8                                                                                                                                                    

1 The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, 2 as it is written    
in Isaiah the prophet:

“I will send my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way”—
“a voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
    make straight paths for him.’”

And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

The Unattractive Side of Advent

Video conferencing has become a normal and nearly essential part of our lives these last 9 months. It’s been a blessing for worship and Bible study, for council meetings and conferences, for chats with the family and scavenger hunts with friends. My wife and I even had a virtual baby shower yesterday. Video conferencing can be great!

But as much of a blessing as it has been, it also has this uncanny ability to showcase the most unflattering and unattractive sides of us. If you’re not careful, on your Zoom call people will be able to see the mess on your desk or the stack of dirty dishes in the sink. Your phone or computer can catch you at the most awkward angles and in the most unflattering light. Video conferencing shows you as you really are, warts and all.  

After reading Mark 1, I kind of think John the Baptist was the 1st Century equivalent of a Zoom call. He was brutally honest and highly skilled at showing people what they really looked like.

Mark tells us that John was the promised prophet who was sent to prepare the way for the Lord. The prophecy from Isaiah goes like this, “a voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.”[1]

The picture is of a king making his way across the desert to visit his subjects. A herald would go ahead of him, announcing his impending arrival and helping the people prepare for him. Part of that was purely logistical – make the way straight. So, you can imagine them filling in potholes, picking up litter along the side of the highway, rolling stones out of the way so that the king doesn’t have to walk around or over any obstacles.

Of course, all of this was figurative, prophetic language for how we can prepare, not our homes, but our hearts for the coming of Christ. That’s why John set up camp in the wilderness. It was a visible parable to describe the desolate wasteland of our hearts. We’re not always as polished and perfect as we like to think we are.

That’s why John came preaching a baptism of repentance, because we have sins to confess. John’s job was really to hold up a mirror (or a webcam) to let people see who they really were.

He was there to preach a baptism of repentance. That’s one of those big, church words – repentance. The picture is of a complete change, i.e. a 180° turn. It speaks to the condition of our hearts and how desperately we need to change. And so, the first part of repentance is realizing that something is wrong. Sometimes God has to shine a light on our hearts with his law to remind us that we’re not as good as we think we are.

That’s what John was doing in the desert. What’s interesting is that Mark doesn’t give us a single example of any of the people who came out to see John. All we have is this very general statement: “The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him, confessing their sins…”[2] But not a single sin is mentioned specifically.

Sometimes I think that would be easier. “God, just tell me what you don’t want me to do.” But, in this case, I actually appreciate the lack of information, because it prevents us from looking down on those people. It leaves no room for self-righteousness that’s tempted to say, “I would never be caught dead doing what they did!” or, “I may not be perfect, but I least I don’t do that!”

Instead, think of it this way: If every minute of your life was livestreamed and broadcast for the world to see, and then it was played back for you, how many times would you cringe, e.g. at your choice of words in a tense moment, at your inaction when someone really needed you, at the kinds of things you think and say and do when no one is watching you? I don’t want to be in the Truman Show. I’m glad no one’s filming me and my life.

But, you know, that’s the purpose of God’s law– to show us those unflattering and unattractive moments, when our guard is down and we’re unpolished and unfiltered. The law shows us our sin. And even though Mark doesn’t give us any examples of specific sins we should confess, God’s 10 Commandments give us a pretty good place to start.

In our hymnals even we have this helpful page. It’s called the Personal Preparation for Holy Communion, and it walks us through how we can hold up the mirror of the law to our own hearts. Here’s just one section of it:

Q:   What should I do if I am not aware of my sins or am not troubled by them?

A:    I should examine myself according to the 10 Commandments and ask how well I have carried out my responsibilities as a husband or wife or single person, as a parent or child, an employer or employee, a teacher or student. Have I loved God with all my heart, gladly heard his Word, and patiently endured affliction? Have I been disobedient, proud, or unforgiving? Have I been selfish, lazy, envious, or quarrelsome? Have I lied or deceived, taken something not mine, or given anyone a bad name? Have I abused my body or permitted indecent thoughts to linger in my mind? Have I failed to do what is right and good?

The point of this line of questioning is to help us arrive at the first part of repentance – to realize that something is wrong. But the point of John’s preaching wasn’t to stop there but to preach a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And that’s the second part of repentance – asking God for forgiveness.

That’s the difference between John and guys like Sacha Baron Cohen or “gotcha” journalists who just want to catch you in a compromising position and then share it with the world and glory in your shame. That’s not why John preached repentance. It wasn’t to put people down, but to prepare them to be lifted up by the gospel. To help them understand and appreciate how much they need God’s forgiveness – and then to point them to it!

That’s why John baptized people. When they confessed their sins, he washed those sins away in the waters of the Jordan River. And it wasn’t because the Jordan River was so clean. In fact, it had a reputation of being kind of dirty. No, the reason baptism washed sins away was because of the promise of God. And it’s the same for you and me.

The water in our baptismal font isn’t holy, but it does connect us to Jesus. The pastor doesn’t have the power to forgive sins, but he does have the ability and responsibility to point you to the one who does, i.e. to point you to Jesus, just like John did:

“After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”[3]

Jesus is the one with the power to forgive, because Jesus never had a reason to repent or any sins to confess. He could have had a camera crew follow him every minute of his life, and you wouldn’t have seen anything shameful or sinful. If it were possible to read his thoughts and record them in a book, we wouldn’t read of any lust or greed.

Jesus had such powerful self-control that he was able to resist all sin, but he also such powerful love that he sacrificed himself for you; he threw away a perfect life and died on a cross for a bunch of sinners like us, so that he could promise you forgiveness for your sins. That’s why, in our church, there’s a river connecting the baptismal font to the cross, because it’s Jesus’ holy, precious blood that washes our sins away. That’s why, today, we’re invited to take and eat Jesus body and blood for the forgiveness of our sins.

Because Jesus lived a perfect life as your substitute and died an innocent death in your place, God has forgiven all your sins. And now, through his means of grace – through the gospel in Word and Sacrament – Jesus continues to come to you in love to announce that every unpolished, unfiltered, unflattering and unattractive moment in your life has been wiped clean and redeemed in Jesus. Now, when God looks at you, he doesn’t see any warts, any flaws, any garbage in your background. He only sees the perfection of Jesus applied and attributed to you by faith.

It must have been hard for the people to go out to hear John preach in the wilderness and be reminded of all many and varied ways they fall short. But what relief to hear that we have a Saviour in Jesus. The one who came shortly after John demonstrated his power to forgive by dying on a cross for us and then rising from the grave in victory. He paid the price for our sin and promises us forgiveness and salvation. He promises us that, although he is gone from this world, he is coming back, and when he does, he wants us to be ready.

So, prepare the way for the Lord. You don’t have to have a spotless house. You don’t have to be put together or have your life in order. You don’t even have to have a pure heart. You just have to have a repentant one – that recognizes that something is wrong with us, but that rejoices that we have a Saviour in Jesus.  

It’s good for us to look in the mirror. It’s healthy to see ourselves in an unflattering and unattractive light, because it points us to Christ, who came the first time to take our sins away, and who’s coming again to take us home to heaven.

Come, Lord Jesus. Come quickly. Amen.


[1] Mark 1:3

[2] Mark 1:5

[3] Mark 1:7,8