Celtic Advent - Day XXIII - December 7

 

Celtic Advent - Day XXIII - December 7

St. John the Baptist: 1 St. John's Eve

Malcolm Guite

Midsummer night and bonfires on the hill

Burn for the man who makes way for the light:

'He must increase and I diminish still,

Until his sun illuminates my night.'

So John the Baptist pioneers our path,

Unfolds the lessons of the life of prayer,

Unlatches the last doorway into faith,

And makes one inner space an everywhere.

Least of the new and greatest of the old,

Orpheus on the threshold with his lyre,

He sets himself aside and cries, "Behold

The One who stands among you stands with fire!"

So keep his fires burning through this night,

Beacons and gateways for the child of of light.

Over in the church calendar of Advent, the lectionary readings for the second and third Sunday are about John the Baptist. We heard from St. Mark Last Sunday and this Sunday we hear from St. John.

St. Mark makes it clear that John the Baptist was the embodiment of Isaiah's prophecy, "The voice of one, crying in the wilderness". St. John puts the words right in his mouth.

"The suits" (the "priests and Levites") arrive from headquarters (Jerusalem) and ask John the Baptist straight up: Who are you? Are you Elijah? Are you the prophet? Tell us who you are so we can report back to the suits at headquarters.

And, John the Baptist says, "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness."

Every time I read that passage from Isaiah, my mind automatically flashes back to a moment I had in my very first year of seminary. It was the first time I was on the rota as a reader in chapel for Morning Prayer. It was Advent. And, my assignment was the first lesson, the Hebrew scripture (not the "Old Testament" as we we were very carefully taught).

I was very pleased to read, "The voice of one crying out in the the wilderness." (Isaiah 40:3) Probably because I was thinking of John the Baptist, claiming those words for himself.

However, close attention to the punctuation in Isaiah 40:3 convey a slightly different meaning. They are: "A voice of one calling: 'In the wilderness prepare a way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.'"

My first class after Morning Prayer and after breakfast in the refectory was Theology with Dr. Owen Thomas. I came to adore the man, but I had only been a seminarian for less than 3 months and I was still learning how to swim in the deep end of the baptismal pool. 

It had probably only been a month since I came home in tears from Owen's class, wailing, "I'm supposed to do an exegesis and I don't even really know what the hell it means!" 

And then there was the time when I came face to face with the word 'parousia' (second coming). I almost had a melt down. You should have seen me when I first heard the word 'historicity' (historical authenticity). I honestly thought I had either forgotten how to speak English or I had entered a foreign land with an entirely different language. 

I did relax a bit after the spouse of a classmate - a man who was a popular senior and looked for all the world like the stereotype of the handsome Anglican vicar - told me that he had called her at work one day in early October in a full-blown meltdown because he had to do an "Exit for Jesus" and didn't know what that heck that was. 

I felt ever so much better after that story. 

As I walked into Systematic Theology 101 that morning, I had no idea that the rug upon which I had recently gained my balance was about to be pulled from under my feet.

"I just want to start with a note to be careful about reading in chapel," he said. My stomach immediately lurched into a tight knot. 

"No, we are not fundamentalists. We don't believe that the writers of scripture took dictation from God, including periods and commas and semi-colons, but punctuation is important," he intoned.

"The meaning is very" he said, "if you are saying, 'A voice of one calling, 'In the wilderness prepare a way for the Lord . .  ." vs 'A voice of one calling in the wilderness, 'prepare a way for the Lord.'"

"Is it the that we are being called to prepare a way in the wilderness? Or, is it one voice in the wilderness that is calling us to prepare a way for the Lord? Isaiah is clear, it's the voice of one calling to us to prepare a way in the wilderness for the Lord."

Owen did not mention any names but everyone immediately knew who he was talking about. 

I knew he was talking about me.

I. Was. Humiliated.

That was not his intent, of course. And, he saw my face and the horror written on it and he immediately felt bad for having handled it in the way he did.

I don't think I've ever been in a room where the silence was so heavy I couldn't breathe. Owen quietly made his way over to me, placed his hand gently on my shoulder and said, "When I was a first year seminarian, I made the same mistake. Which is why it always jumps out to my ears. You aren't the first seminarian - or Christian - to have made that mistake. But, I can guarantee one thing: You'll never make that same mistake again."

He gently squeezed my shoulder and looked into my eyes and smiled warmly and lovingly and with that, all the embarrassment melted away.

Owen was right. I never made that mistake again. I'm willing to bet solid money that neither did anyone else in that class. 

After that class, Owen walked out with me and chatted about something or other. I don't remember what he said or I said or the topic under consideration. 

I just remember that I felt relaxed. It felt like I had passed a test. It felt like he was treating me as a colleague - someone who cared enough about scripture to be upset at the thought I had not treated it with the love and respect I have in my heart for it. 

From that day on, I stopped calling him Dr. Thomas and called him Owen, as he asked me to. And, he called me Elizabeth.  And, I came to love him. 

Indeed, I passed all seven canonical areas on the GOEs because Owen taught me how to think critically and systematically. He spent time with me, helping me learn how to compose a reflective essay. 

He encouraged me, sometimes coming over to my table in the refectory and saying, "You know, I thought that was an interesting point you brought up in class. How about writing a reflective essay on that?'

I suppose this is a John the Baptist story in reverse. Perhaps. 

To me, it's a love story involving a woman who loved scripture enough to pay attention, to understand that it's too important to take literally, to get underneath it and behind it and under it and express it publicly in as close to its authentic, original meaning as possible. 

This is the way valleys of humiliation are raised up and mountains and hills of arrogance are made low; its the way rough ground of inexperience becomes level and and rugged places of learning become plain and the glory of the lord is revealed.

I will leave you with this wonderful passage from the 40th chapter of Isaiah for your meditation tonight. Read it out loud and hear in your voice the voice of one calling out that a there may be prepared a highway for God.

Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her

that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins.

A voice cries out:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”