Rev. Nick Cheek
Isaiah 40: 1-8 and Mark 1: 1-8
It’s Christmas card season! I hope you have your cards finished by now. If you haven’t, it’s okay, God will forgive you, but your mom might not. For our family, it has become a tradition to hang the cards we receive on a string in our house as a decorative piece. It’s also a way to show how many friends we have. Some of these cards are simply beautiful. As I was preparing for this sermon, I realized that we have never, ever received a Christmas card with John the Baptist on the cover. Have you? Of course not! Why would you? It probably wouldn’t be the most attractive card in the bunch, and it might not be the most uplifting either. Imagine getting a card with a picture of John the Baptist on the front and, after opening it, reading a note that says, “Repent.” “Merry Christmas!” That certainly wouldn’t be the best way to spread Christmas cheer.
Poor John. He never really gets his name on a Christmas card, and for good reason. John was a burly man. He lived on a diet comprised of locusts and wild honey. He found shelter under trees and canopies in the wilderness. There was really nothing soft about John… which makes him a peculiar character for God to use to speak through in order to prepare the way for the coming of Christ.
I’m not so sure we want to encounter John… especially during this season of joy. John represents the bump in the road during Advent… he steps in during the busiest season of the year and interrupts us. He bugs us… with a voice crying out from the wilderness. “Repent.” This is not the word anyone wants to hear during the holiday season. Like John, it seems out of place. It reminds us of confessing sin, and all the ways we haven’t quite measured up. It’s a word we associate with guilt, not grace. And it certainly doesn’t seem to belong beside Christmas lights, eggnog toasts, and wreaths hung by the fire.
But what if John isn’t trying to ruin Advent for us? What if repentance, as John proclaims it, isn’t about shame at all? What if his interruption is actually an act of mercy, a way for God to get our attention?
What I first want to point to in our story this morning is John’s location. John isn’t in a sanctuary, he isn’t in the middle of a bustling metropolis, or the center of commerce. John is crying out from the wilderness… from the desert. This symbolism is important to recognize because the realization that we need repentance often originates in the wildernesses of our lives or our world, the parched places… the places in need of grace. The wilderness is a place of brokenness… It’s a place where our tears are shed… Where we finally run out of answers to our problems… and the strength to fix them. The wilderness is where we face the truth about our lives: the grief we’ve been carrying, the burnout we’ve ignored, the worries we’ve tried to outrun. The wilderness has a way of disarming us… of getting us to tell the truth, that we really aren’t in control of much. It moves us to a place of surrender and openness where we find ourselves saying in our hearts or perhaps out loud, “I can’t do this anymore.” In the biblical story, that is where repentance begins. It begins when we finally acknowledge that the old way isn’t giving life… when we admit that we need God to lead us somewhere new.
The Greek word for repentance is metanoia. Can you all try that with me? Metanoia. The first part of the Greek “meta” means “changed,” and the second part “noia” means “perception.” Together, it can mean a change of heart, a change of mind, or a change of orientation. My personal favorite translation is “a transformative turning.” This idea of metanoia implies that repentance is less of a one-time event or destination and more of a journey of a life turned toward God’s heart. I love this perspective of repentance because it doesn’t demand that we be perfect, or holy, or have everything put together today or right this minute. Instead, it presents us with a repentance that is a process… one day at a time, one step at a time… something we are constantly growing into.
Treadwell Walden, in his theological study The Great Meaning of Metanoia, argues that this repentance is “the inaugural action” of Christian existence, the first movement of grace within us. Walden draws a sharp distinction between what he calls “mere penitence or remorse” and true metanoia; the first keeps us chained to the past, while the other turns us toward God’s future. Walden teaches that metanoia is inherently forward-leaning. It is the Spirit opening our eyes to a new way of being, calling us beyond regret into transformation. Metanoia is not only about feeling sorry; it is consenting to be remade, Walden says. It is stepping into the vision, the purpose, and the identity that God is already forming within us, within you, even now.
When you put all of this together, it may be easier to see repentance more as a gift than a burden. It is an invitation to a new way of being that originates in the love and mercy of God. It is the understanding that every day, there are new mercies. Every day, we can get up, brush ourselves off, and speak words of truth: “Behold, in Christ I am a new creation. The old has gone, and the new has come.” Today is a new day. Repentance begins with compassion, not condemnation. Compassion from God… compassion for ourselves… and in turn, compassion for the other.
“Repent,” John cries out, “for the kingdom of God is near! Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight paths for his coming.” This is the reason for John’s crying out He believes that metanoia is how we prepare for Jesus. It’s how we get ready for the manger. And this getting ready is not only an individual task; it’s also cooperative. Metanoia isn’t just “my” turning; it is our turning. We are called to partner with God as we help to turn the world toward the mercy of the Lord. We’re in this together. How do we prepare the way, not only in our own lives, but in the lives of our church, our families, our community? Friends, how many times just this week have you turned on the news or opened the paper and felt the ache of a world that needs repentance a world crying out for a change of direction, crying out for hope? In what circumstances, in what conflicts, do you hear yourself praying, “Lord, turn us. Turn our leaders, turn our visions, turn our systems, turn our hearts back to your ways”? Church, that… is metanoia at work. That is its gift… the gift is the constant crying out. The gift is the nudge that tells us things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be… There is another way. Repentance is a gift because it presents us with the hope that the world can indeed change direction… and travel from pain… into healing… from violence and war toward peace, from anger and discrimination toward unity and equality. It is a journey where the unhoused have roofs over their heads and the hungry are not sent away empty… it is a journey from addiction into grace… from depression and anxiety into serenity… from darkness into light. Listen to the cry this morning, church… for metanoia is at work in the world around us… It is at work in you.
Metanoia is at work when siblings who haven’t spoken in years finally pick up the phone.
When a parent who has carried guilt for years finally asks their grown child for forgiveness… that’s metanoia.
Metanoia is when a teenager who’s been lost in worry and self-doubt finally opens up to a trusted adult and says, “I need help.”
It’s when a person who has been hiding their pain in silence decides to see a therapist for the first time.
It’s when someone reenters a church after time away and hears a familiar word of grace that begins to heal what they thought was beyond repair.
It’s at work when someone who has been sober for years slips but gets back on the path again. That’s metanoia.
It’s when a church supports a Latino community with presence, prayer, and partnering.
It’s when lawmakers across party lines finally agree on legislation that protects the vulnerable rather than divides the nation further.
It’s when partners in a strained relationship begin praying together again even if the prayer is only, “Lord, help us.”
The gift of metanoia is found when nations sign peace treaties, when the poor are treated with dignity, and when enemies share handshakes.
It’s when a community of faith decides to use its land and resources to serve its partnering ministries and those in need of attainable housing. That’s metanoia at work.
Church, when you finally forgive yourself for pain you’ve caused to yourself or others… and embrace a second chance… or a third or a fourth or a hundredth… that’s the gift of metanoia crying out from the wilderness.
Our passage this morning says that people came from all over the whole Judean countryside and all over Jerusalem to hear John’s message. People like you and me… they came looking for something more… looking for a new beginning… and they found it… they found it in the good news of Jesus Christ. They found it in the sign and symbol of baptism… That’s what John was doing out there in the wilderness… he was dipping people in the Jordan River as a sign… a sign of a grace that not only washes the dirt from our hands and feet but the dirt from our very souls. When folks heard John… they received the good news that our sins, our pain, our violence, and anger had been washed with a love that never lets go. It’s a love that speaks to you and me that we are God’s children… always and no matter what… The people who went to see John in the wilderness were given a hope… a hope that if we can find repentance… if each of us… one by one… can turn around and go a different way, then maybe the whole world can… too.
Author Fleming Rutledge, in Advent The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ writes that “Advent begins in the dark. It is the season that forces us to face the world as it really is, full of injustice, suffering, and longing, and to recognize our inability to save ourselves. But it is also the season that calls us to make ready, to prepare a place for the Lord who is coming to judge and to heal. Advent summons us to hope, not because we are optimistic, but because God is faithful.”
Friends, in this season of Advent, how will you prepare the way for Christ? In the middle of the hustle and bustle… in the midst of shopping malls and tacky sweaters… will you listen for the voice of one crying out in the wilderness… “Metanoia.” Repent… for the kingdom of God is near. Prepare the way of the Lord.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.