These opening verses from Mark give us a sense of the story he is about to relate. We jump from last week’s Gospel story from Mark that comes just before Jesus’ Passion back to the very beginning of Mark. Unlike Luke or Matthew, Mark is unconcerned with Jesus’ birth story or pedigree. With a sense of immediacy, Mark crafts an opening that draws in the listener, engages our minds and hearts, and moves us to action.
Mark’s prologue weaves together themes from Jewish scripture with the political context of the time and the unique character of John the Baptist.
Mark’s first two words evoke the first verse of the creation story in Genesis 1.1: “In the beginning.” This is ‘the beginning’ of a story of God creating God’s people anew. The quote Mark cites from Isaiah touches on stories and prophecy from several different books in Hebrew scripture. It evokes memories of God’s faithful guidance of Israel wandering in the wilderness, prophetic messengers, and promises of renewal by water and the Holy Spirit. These motifs would have been familiar and comforting references for Mark’s original audience. As would the reference to the Jewish practice of baptism, or washing with water as a rite of purification and initiation into Judaism.
We learned last week that Mark writes in the political context of a recent attempted revolt against Roman occupation of Judea. Devastated by the violence and destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the people yearn for hope of any kind.
Mark continues his use of familiar words as he calls the story he is beginning a tale of “good news.” The word euangelion or ‘gospel’ could mean any good news, but typically was used when a messenger returned from the battlefield to announce the good news of military victory.
Mark borrows more language from his socio-political context. Just before the time of Jesus, an official imperial inscription called Caesar Augustus the “Son of God” and declared his birthday as “a beginning of good news for the world.”
Mark’s use of this same language is no coincidence. Claiming these words of power to anticipate Jesus, an unknown peasant from a small town in Galilee, signals something bold is happening. Here, in the opening sentences, and throughout this gospel, Mark rejects the way of Caesar, a way of violence and destruction, and counters with the power of Jesus the Prince of Peace.
Mark artfully draws us into the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
The good news begins with the clarion call of John the baptizer, He appears in the wilderness, a place of desolation and confusion, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. John is a quirky character. He wears scratchy camel hair and eats locusts and wild honey. He unapologetically proclaims that he is the precursor to one who is much more powerful, who will bring the Spirit of God.
We await the advent, the coming, of God. This IS a story of good news. A story of triumph for all people who feel lost in the wilderness, alone and forgotten. A story of God’s remembering and salvation. A story of hope for restoration of wholeness. In our hearing and responding, good news stories, gospels, change our lives and, through our actions, change the world.
We respond to Mark’s prologue to God’s imminent arrival with a posture of awareness of ourselves, repentance for when we think we know the way to go without asking God. Faithfully watching and staying awake. Willing to see wilderness as a place of re-creation rather than despair, a place of waiting with hope for God’s revealing rather than desperation.
We quiet our hearts in the midst of Christmas-fueled frenzy to get it all done. We wait on God’s time, letting go of the insidious and destructive ‘never enough’ feeling that constricts our focus, and opening ourselves to the creating exhalations of God. Discovering space to offer grace and kindness to others, to share our time and talents, to proclaim with our words and actions the good news that God IS coming to bring hope and light to this wounded and weary world.
On this second Sunday in Advent, let us pray:
Wild God of the wastes, whose gospel begins with a cry and a summons: take us to a pathless place where we can start again to taste creation’s gifts anew and await the Spirit’s touch; through Jesus the Christ, the one who is to come. Amen.
(Steven Shakespeare, Prayers for an Inclusive Church, 2009 Church Publishing, collect for Advent 2, Year B)
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