"Make straight his path"

Luke 3:1-6



Pastor Tom Johnson, 12/9/12

There are five rulers and six regions mentioned in our Gospel reading. Emperor Tiberius who ruled over the Roman Empire, Pontius Pilate who was governor of Judea, Herod who ruled over Galilee, Philip who ruled over Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias who ruled over Abilene. It is interesting that Luke mentions all the regions that bordered the banks of a river—the river Jordan. When John preached, he could always be found near the Jordan River. Our Gospel says he was in “the region around the Jordan.” In other words, John was crossing from earthly kingdom to kingdom—crossing international boundaries—inviting people from every tribe, nation and region to receive forgiveness from God through the water and the Word of Baptism.

John was stirring up trouble. As he stood in the river, he had his right foot in one region and his left foot in another. It was as if to say, “I am no respector of regions and rulers. I am the prophet and preparer of the Messiah.” Just as my feet defy worldly borders, so God’s Kingdom transcends every nation. The river was a natural, international boundry between these earthy rulers. People were coming from all directions down to the river. Every path to every river is a winding one. There are no strait and level paths to rivers. John was making way for the King of kings and Lord of lords—the one whose Kingdom has no borders. John was making way for the King up and down the banks of the river Jordan—a place that had countless ancient paths. Just like near our home, the Des Plaines river has ancient paths first made by deer and other large animals. The Native American peoples followed these trails and even lived near an area I walked by recently.

Ancient trails hug landscapes all over the world—winding through hills, valleys, riverbanks, and shorelines. There is beauty to modern paths like Highway One in California with its twists and turns, ups and downs, and views of crashing waves against the rocks. Even this highway has ancient roots. It was the Romans, however, that didn’t like paths that took indirect routes around mountains in order to ease the journey. They took out a strait edge from one place to another and drew a straight line. I’ve been on one of these rocky roads in Spain, near the border of France in the Pyrenees Mountains. The road goes as straight as an arrow. The incline and decline can sometimes be very dramatic. It didn’t matter; the more direct route always won. It wasn’t until about a two hundred years ago that we started to use dynamite to blow holes through mountains or level them so that trains could find a more efficient way to their destination. Perhaps engineers took their cue from John.

He says “Prepare the way of the Lord! Make his paths straight! Fill in the valleys; make the mountains low so that they are all level! Straighten up the winding paths! Smooth the rough services!”

A few months ago, my family and I were driving down the Expressway. We saw unmarked and marked police cars at each entrance ramp and exit ramp. We saw uniformed and plain clothes officers on top of buildings monitoring the highway. We didn’t know it at the time, but President Obama was expected to land at O’Hare soon and they were preparing the highway for him. They were ensuring that his journey would be safe, unhindered, and as efficient as possible. And that is really the message that John preached to the people at his time. And that is the message of this season of Advent today.

John the Baptist challenged the people of his day—and our day—to make way for the Lord—in our hearts, minds, words, and prayers. God wants us to live out that prayer that Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy Kingdom come.” John calls us to partner with God in making way for the King to come. I love what Martin Luther says about this. He says, “The kingdom of God certainly comes  without our prayer, but we pray in this petition that it may come to us also.” Just like people during John the Baptist’s day, who came from many different ethnic groups and regions, God calls us to ready ourselves for the Kingdom. Just like those people who took many different, winding, and hilly paths to the river, so our journey to prepare ourselves can have its ups and downs and twists and turns.

But when we come to the river—when we come to the baptismal font—when we come to the water, God washes away all our sins. It is there—in Holy Baptism—that God streamlines his grace. Whether we were baptized yesterday or 92 years ago, God’s Kingdom makes a beeline to us, adopts us, and makes us citizens. The path toward the river of God’s mercy may have crooked, rough, and disorienting. But the path toward the Kingdom—and the Kingdom toward us—is now strait and smooth. Forgiveness and eternal life come now. One day, the King will come in even greater glory. “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”