Hope in the Wilderness: A Welcome Challenge

It is good to be here together in this season of waiting, this season of long nights and flickering candles.

Every year, just as we get settled into the cozy expectation of Advent just as we start thinking about the manger, the star, and the quiet lullabies a wild, shouting figure bursts in through the back door of the lectionary.

John the Baptist always shows up at some point during Advent. He is unavoidable.

And if we are honest, he isn’t exactly the guest we would choose for a polite dinner party. Matthew describes him vividly: he wears clothing of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist; his diet is locusts and wild honey. He is shouting in the wilderness. In a word, he is intense.

But Matthew isn’t giving us these fashion details just to paint a picture of an eccentric hermit. Matthew is doing something deeply theological. He is connecting the dots for us. You see, John’s description is reminiscent of the great prophet Elijah. In 2 Kings (1:7-8), Elijah is described exactly the same way: a hairy man with a leather belt around his waist.

Why does this matter? Because Elijah was the prophet who wasn’t afraid to speak truth to power. Elijah rebuked a king for forgetting God. And now, centuries later, here stands John, dressed in the uniform of the prophet, rebuking the Pharisees and Sadducees the religious elite of his day.

Matthew opens this scene with the phrase, “In those days…” It sounds like a simple storytelling device, like “Once upon a time.” But to a first-century Jewish ear, those words were electric. They are an echo of the prophet Jeremiah. They are found in Joel (3:1). When a prophet says, “In those days,” they are reminding the people that the ministry of Jesus is part of a long, sacred tradition.

John the Baptist, like Elijah, Jeremiah, and Joel before him, becomes a precursor. He is a living reminder that the status quo is not the end of the story. The people recognized John for what he was: a warning, yes, but also a promise that the reign of God is at hand.

John has two things to say to the crowds then, and to us today.

First, he says that the current time is like when Elijah was present: people are forgetting the heart of God, and there is a deep need to turn around. Second, he says that this is the time Israel has been waiting for. The Kingdom is close.

“Repent!” he cries. “For the kingdom of God is at hand!”

Now, in many churches, the word “Repent” has been weaponized. It has been used to shame, to exclude, and to frighten. However, we need to understand repentance differently. The Greek word is metanoia. It means to change your mind. To turn around. To embrace a new way of seeing the world.

John is offering a warm, urgent invitation to wake up. He reminds us today, during this Advent season, that soon Christ will be among us.

However, John is not interested in superficial religion. When he sees the religious leaders coming for baptism perhaps just to be seen doing the right thing he challenges them. He warns them against resting on their laurels.

He tells them, essentially: “Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor.’”

It isn’t enough to cling to our ancestors. It isn’t enough to say, “My grandparents built this church.” It isn’t enough to say, “I’ve always been a Christian,” or “I have the right label.” Tradition is a beautiful foundation, but it is not a substitute for a living, breathing relationship with the Divine and with our neighbours.

John uses a startling image: the axe is lying at the root of the tree.

This sounds scary, but let’s look at it through the lens of hope. If a tree is sick, if a system is unjust, if a way of living is poisoning the community, love demands that we prune it. Love demands we get to the root. This time of year, asks us to reflect on the fruit we bear.

Is our life bearing the fruit of the Spirit? Are we bearing fruit worthy of repentance?

As pastor Chelsey Harmon beautifully puts it: “We prepare ourselves, our communities, and the world to receive God: both the Spirit now, every day, and Jesus Christ when he returns. We take responsibility for ourselves while also holding the tension that Advent waiting and preparation is a communal work. We shall ‘bear fruit worthy of repentance.’”

That is the key: Communal work.

This isn’t just about my personal piety or your personal piety. It is about how we treat the vulnerable. It is about whether our community reflects the justice and mercy of God.

This brings us to our second reading from Romans. Paul is writing to a divided community, and he points them back to the same hope John spoke of. He quotes Isaiah, speaking of the “Root of Jesse”, that’s Jesus who rises to rule the Gentiles.

In John’s time, the Gentiles were the outsiders, the ones who didn’t belong. But the Good News of Advent is that in Christ, the circle is drawn wider. The walls are coming down.

Paul writes, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

So, friends, let us welcome John the Baptist this morning. Not as a scary figure of judgment, but as the one who loves us enough to tell us the truth.

The truth is that we cannot rely on the past. We must live our faith now.

The truth is that the axe is ready to clear away the dead wood of hatred, apathy, and injustice so that new life can grow.

The truth is that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, it is within reach of our hands, if we reach out in love.

May we bear good fruit this week. May we welcome one another, just as Christ has welcomed us. And may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace.

Amen.