Our lesson from Thessalonians today tells us "Rejoice always." And today is a day for rejoicing indeed. Today is Gaudete Sunday, the Latin word for "rejoice." In a time when Advent was known as a penitential season, like Lent, the third Sunday of Advent was a time to interrupt the somber mood with a time of rejoicing. The purple vestments gave way to pink. And the message of the day was "Rejoice."
Now our Gospel today tells us about John the Baptist. We heard about him last week also, so perhaps we need to dive a little deeper into the story of this wild man out on the fringes of civilization and see what there is to rejoice about in his message.
So the religious establishment of the time learns that people are flocking out to see this guy who is bearing witness to -- well, to something, and they want to know something pretty basic: who is he? And he starts by making it clear: he's **not** the Messiah. So they run through the list: are you Elijah? Are you another prophet? And John identifies himself: "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord,'" as the prophet Isaiah said.
Rejoice always.
Now this message "in the wilderness make straight the way of the Lord" -- what does it mean, and why is *this* what we hear on Gaudete Sunday? Wherefore rejoice?
When we hear "make straight the way of the Lord," people often think this is a message of repentance. Straighten out your life and make it good with God. Repent. Clean up your act.
Frankly, the message that "you're doing it all wrong. Change your life so you live like I tell you you should" might be a constructive message in many circumstances, and people may indeed be happier with their lives after they make the changes, but the message "straighten up your life" is hardly a joyful one.
But John didn't just say "straighten up your life." He said "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord,'" as the prophet Isaiah said. So what is Isaiah talking about?
Last week, we heard the reading from Isaiah to which John refers, and it's one of the more beautiful readings in all of scripture: 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."
Some context. For over four hundred years, the house of David ruled the Kingdom of Judah from Jerusalem. For over four hundred years, the city of Jerusalem remained unconquered. For over four hundred years, the people of Judah believed that as the Lord’s chosen people, they would be ruled by the house of David forever. This was no small claim for a fairly minor kingdom nestled between the great empires of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Assyria. Then, in 586 BCE, the unthinkable happened. The sky fell in. The Babylonian empire conquered Jerusalem and forced many of its inhabitants to relocate to Babylon. This exile reduced to ruins not only their homes, their livelihoods, and their ordinary way of life, but also their very sense of identity relative to God and the rest of the world. So they moved to Babylon.
This was how the Babylonians built their empire: if they relocated a conquered people, those people would more easily give up their old ways and identity and become assimilated into Babylonian culture. But, miracle of miracles, the people of Judah retained their identity. They told their stories. They sang their songs. They preserved their way of life. They worshipped their God. And when Cyrus the Great, King of Persia, conquered the Babylonian empire and told the conquered people that they were allowed to go home, there was enough of a sense of identity left among the descendants of Judah that they knew who they were, and where home was. Which is where Isaiah's message comes in: Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term. It's time to go home. It's time to return to where you belong, and return to your proper relationship with God.
Rejoice.
And yet... they had been in exile, and their exile was over, but while going home is an occasion to rejoice, it's not always an easy thing to do. They were in exile in Babylon. Babylon, the heart of an empire. Babylon, one of the greatest cities in the world. Home to one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, a center of architecture, culture, art, literature. It wasn't their home, but they had a life there. The people of Judah weren't rich in Babylon, and they weren't home, but neither were they slaves, nor living an unpleasant life.
Then there was the journey. 500 miles as the crow flies, if the crow could fly over the open desert without searching for an oasis. For people, on foot, carrying whatever possessions they had to bring back with them, the journey along a survivable route would be considerably longer.
And then there was the destination. The Isaiah reading today puts it so poetically: "They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations." The fact of the matter is that the land to which they were invited to go home wasn't in the best of shape. Jerusalem had once been an amazing place, but the land was devastated. The temple had been destroyed. The city walls smashed. Their barns, their homes, their fields -- not in the prime of their maintenance.
When Isaiah told the people that it was time to go home, it was not exactly an easy sell.
And so, Isaiah's call to those who were doing God's work was this: 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. Do what you can to make it easy for people to return. The work is hard and the journey rough, but do what you can to make it easier for God's people to return to where they belong. Make the journey back to God easier on each other.
And that is who John the Baptist is: the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord,' as the prophet Isaiah said.
"Make straight the way of the Lord" isn't an individual call to repentance. It's a call to make it easier for everyone to return to God. It's a call to remove barriers. It's a call to make the mountains and hills low, and the uneven ground level, and the rough places a plain. It's a call to set aside pride, to set aside division, to set aside grudges, and help one another do what is right.
And so, rejoice. We're all in this together. Yes, God does call us to repent. God does call us to turn away from sin, and embrace the Gospel. God does call us to leave what is easy and comfortable and to undertake some amazingly difficult work: to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners. But God also calls us to help one another remove barriers from doing that work. To lighten one another's load. To build a highway through the wild places that our fellow travelers can use on their journey.
Our work in bringing forth the Kingdom of God isn't easy. But we're not alone, and we're each charged with the task of helping our fellow servants of God along the way. Therefore, rejoice!
And with the psalmist, we too can say:
When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream.
Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."
The LORD has done great things for us, and we are glad indeed.
Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like the watercourses of the Negev.
Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.
Amen.
