Truth embodied: An Angel in the Wilderness

Sermon on Mark 1:1-8

It’s the time of angels. And we all know how they look like, right? They are cute and pretty. Mostly dressed in white long robes. With jolly, red cheeks and blonde curls. Symbolizing purity and love and innocence. A holiness and lightness that’s not from this world. They mostly pray and make music. And anyone who is beautiful, kind, helpful in a pinch, gifted musically, generous, or obedient (like your grandchildren on a good day) is called an angel. Yet, as soon as they act out they are what. Fallen angels?

Now, these figurines are often beautiful and sometimes kitschy and I doubt there is a single Christmas tree in our houses without them flying around. I love them just as much as you do, believe me.

Well, we know how angels look like. Hey, wait. We don’t know, not from the Bible anyway. We know the iconography of medieval paintings, angels wearing robes, mostly white, with wings, halos – and all of this is based on – God knows what.

What we believe angels look like is more an image of our own wishes for our lives than of a biblical report.

Biblical angels are powerful. They carry swords or fire. They tell people things they don’t want to hear because they are a truth that’s hard to bear. Which probably makes the truth true in the first place. Like “You are pregnant, Mary.” Or “Repent, you sinners.” Biblical Angels are just that. The truth embodied. Messengers of God.

And one of the best examples to prove this, is today’s angel John. Commonly known as John the Baptist.

John appears to be the total opposite to an angel. He is a fully grown man, clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he eats locusts and wild honey. Not exactly the kind of angel we imagine. He is a guy who is free of any social rules, living unhoused and independently in the wilderness. Eating whatever God provides him with. Someone who chose to opt out of the world’s laws and restrictions. Someone, people are curious about. Is he a weirdo or a saint? A prophet or a crazy man? And who gets to decide that?

Mark is pretty clear about John. He calls him an angel. The English bible translates that as “messenger”. Which is what an angel is. A messenger from God. Who really doesn’t look cute or clean or holy in a Hallmark way.

And yet, all the people came to listen to him, Mark reports. And they didn’t just stare at him from a distance to get that selfie with the camel’s hair guy. They drew close and listened. And what they heard didn’t make them angry and leave. John didn’t yell at them, he didn’t threaten them. In that way he was angelic enough it seems.

How do I know that? Because people don’t like to be yelled at and usually don’t change their minds if someone does. But because people took action after what they heard, John must have been a great speaker.

We don’t have an account of his speech. And yet, Mark gives us a hint quoting Isaiah, our lesson from today. Quoting a couple of lines back then was like humming the beginning of a Beatles song. Everyone will know how it goes and hear the music and words in their head. And here is what John’s audience heard:

1 Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.
2 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.
3 A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
6 A voice says, “Cry out!”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All people are grass,
their constancy is like the flower of the field.
7 The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the LORD blows upon it;
surely the people are grass.
8 The grass withers, the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand forever.

This is the loving voice of a prophet who came long before John. And yet, was sent by the same God. By the only God. It’s the loving voice telling the truth. All people are grass. God sees our sins and yes, there will be consequences. And, God hears our cries. God comforts us without sparing us the truth. So did John. That’s what made him an angel.

He must have found a way to point out wrongdoings and wrong-beings in a loving way. Just like good teachers and parents give their kids honest feedback while encouraging them to be who they were made to be.

This year I learned about the way they teach math to kids these days. It’s certainly not how I learned it. We had to solve as many problems as possible in as little time as possible. And don’t you get caught using your fingers. Mistakes were marked red and handed back with a raised eyebrow. Implicating that I didn’t pay enough attention.

My kids only solve one math problem in 40 minutes during their class. Everyone is called Mathematicians. The kids exchange different strategies. The use of fingers and tools is encouraged. Mistakes are considered to be very important for learning. Which means that no one has to be ashamed of them. Instead, it’s easy to admit them because they will play an important role in everybody’s learning. I was astonished. And a little skeptical at first. Was that slow-motion-learning going to work?

3 months into the school year I have to say, it does. Without the usual frustration and feeling dumb that math brings to so many young learners. Acknowledging the problems is the most important step into learning. A teacher friend of mine calls that strategy “My favorite mistake”. Every day she anonymously presents her favorite errors in math class without mocking anyone. And her kids become confident mathematicians.

That’s how I imagine John’s speech. He told the people the truth about their failures. And he pointed out a different future. He comforted people by showing them a way out of whatever mess they were in. Name your favorite sins, he told them. Claim them as yours and then repent them. To be a sinner is nothing to be ashamed of. To face your failures is what it takes to grow spiritually. The call to repent is not a punishment, nor a threat. It’s an offer of true comfort, of peace of mind and peace with God. The call to repentance is the Good News. Because our sins are forgiven.

John had them name and repent their sins and take a bath in the Jordan. As a manifestation of their confession. As a sign for a new beginning. And with a little political implication.

Remember how Joshua led the Israelites over the Jordan into the promised land? Now, John did that again. He had them cross the Jordan. This time with changed hearts. Prepared to encounter God in a new way. In Jesus. As a new beginning.

It’s a place on the margins. Close enough to Jerusalem to feel safe. Far enough out to risk something. To hear something new from a wild angel and to let it sink in.

I remember meeting an angel like that one day in my then best friend. I was about 13 years old. I was in my puberty, which in so many ways is a place on the margins. Close enough to childhood to feel safe. Far enough out into my youth to risk something. I was liked in class but not cool, president of my class, looked up to. And most importantly many classmates relied on my homework and them copying it quickly during recess. Everything was fine. Except that it wasn’t. I thought to be better than others and had some reason to think so. Yet, of course, it wasn’t true. Because it never is. Because no one is better than others. But I didn’t know that then. And my classmates didn’t like my attitude. Because no one likes somebody who feels superior.

I remember fighting with my best friend over other friends one day at her home. Saying things like “I don’t need friends.” And “I will be fine alone.” Things I seriously thought to be true. Because they seemed easier than self-examination and doing the work. And my friend stayed calm and listened. Months later it was my birthday. She gave me an empty notebook. And on the first page she had copied a poem. I don’t entirely recall it. But it was about an oak tree that everyone admired even though it just wanted to be loved. “That’s you.” She wrote beneath the poem.

That night I cried. I wanted to hate the poem. I wanted this to be wrong. Yet, deep in my heart I knew she war right. I wanted to hate her because she had revealed too much about me to me and knew that she did it out of love for me.

I don’t think I ever told her that that little poem really changed my life. It helped me see how others saw me. It made me see my sins of thinking that I was better than others and letting people feel that. It made me cry and repent and cry more. And it took me years to overcome that baseless feeling of superiority. Through that poem my friend told me a truth I needed to hear. She delivered the message I needed to hear. An angel embodying truth to me. We are still friends. Friends who know that we will be unapologetically honest with each other if need be. As we prepare for Christmas, I challenge you to look out for wild angels. For people embodying the truth we need to hear. And to look back to people who have been embodied truth to you. I mean, if we are to get to Christmas, we have to get there through an angel. Absolutely everyone involved in Christmas gets there by way of angels.

Mary had an angel visitor. Joseph had an angel in his dreams. The Shepherds had an entire host of angels. The Magi, who messed up on star-following, had an angel who got them straightened out. Angels are the essential workers in the Christmas story. They just might not look so angelic. So, be on the lookout for wild angels embodying the truth! Amen.