the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness’ Luke 3.2

How odd! John was the son of Zechariah, only son of the priest of the Temple, the one to whom Gabriel, the angel of the Lord, had spoken directly. We are told that Zechariah’s wife, Elizabeth, when visited by Mary recognised her as the mother of the Lord. So there is no doubt that John was brought up knowing the word of the Lord, with such devout and devoted parents as Zechariah and Elizabeth. Yet we are told that the word of the Lord came to John ‘in the wilderness’.

For all his devout upbringing, John had to leave his father and mother, and he had to travel through his own wilderness for the word of God to come to him. For all we might have wonderful Sunday Schools and Youth Groups, in the end what is important is what we learn as we journey the wilderness of real life. I recall a priest saying that in his later ministry he worked in the CBD and he would take the train to the city. He described this lovely picture of people all climbing the stairs side by side with those taking the escalators up to the road level – like lemmings jumping off the cliffs but obviously going up instead of down – and all of these people with their eyes fixed resolutely ahead and oblivious to those with whom they are journeying. In the midst of real life, even the hurly-burley of the peak hour commute, can be a profound wilderness experience.

I guess my realisation is that the word of the Lord comes to each and every one of us personally. We don't have to be content with second-hand experiences, hand-me-downs from previous generations. We are no less important than those of earlier times. Nor do we have to cow-tow to those who have gone before.

So often the church has sanctified the experience of the past. It might be through the authority of scripture, or the tradition or the past Rector in Anglican circles ;-) ! How many people defer to the words of the King James Bible as if this was peculiarly inspired? How many of us think that the disciples were so blessed knowing Jesus in the flesh – that their utterances are so special that they are essentially divine and incontrovertible?

We find that the commandment to 'honour your father and mother' is oft repeated, yet fail to see that the story (so-called) of the prodigal son gives a quite contradictory message – of the father honouring the wayward son. It is much more accurately called the story of the prodigal father – a rather different picture than that of a wrathful god just waiting in gleeful anticipation to tell us off when we do something wrong.

As I joined in the celebration for Christ the King, I thought about the true temple of God being in our hearts and this conveying an authority to us as individual persons, not placing us above others, but neither putting us as miserable sinners whose only use is to listen and comply. This also puts humanity on a collective pedestal, when so often the church has cast collective humanity into a quagmire of concupiscence and original sin.

And the task of the parents of John the Baptist was to acknowledge and enable the ministry of their son. This is a bit different from thinking that **their** offspring would be important. This is a common enough feeling that many parents have. However they had a part to play in all this. They were told that: 'He must never drink wine or strong drink'. This pointed to something new, a radical departure from the past. John himself pointed elsewhere, to a radical departure from the past, to Jesus. Neither his parents or he sanctified the past but looked beyond themselves to the succeeding generation, to better things tomorrow. How different this is to the Church where everything new is suspect and we endlessly hark back to ancient verities. But ancient verities have a habit of perpetuating ancient enemies and frictions.

I am learning to play the cello and at present we are practicing Handel's "Largo'. It is a studied repetitive piece, but our conductor insists it has to keep moving forward. It can't be played as if it is fixed. Somehow he tries to inspire us to play so that it lives. Indeed I heard a cellist once say that playing a cello is like dancing, it is a full body exercise.

If our religion is simply playing the correct notes in the correct sequence, it can be entirely lifeless. But playing the same notes in the same sequence, but keeping it moving forward brings life to the piece and to life itself.

This is Advent time and part of this is to look forward to the second coming. Certainly his coming is always cataclysmic. 'The word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness’ and it was revolutionary, not some sterile return to the past. Even after a lifetime of devotion, the Lord appeared to Saul on that road to Damascus, to say that persecuting others who were different in the name of God was wrong. This turned Paul's world upside down and inside out, his very name was changed. Even after following Jesus and being the 'rock' on which he would build his church, and experiencing the risen Jesus following his resurrection, the word of the Lord still had to come to Peter to make him realise that this was not a comfortable message about his own salvation, or a comfortable message of salvation for the ancient people of God, but was a comfortable message of the salvation of all. It turned his world upside down and inside out as well. Of course the comfortable message of salvation of all is distinctively uncomfortable for those who believe their own salvation is at the expense of others.

If we choose to look backward, see that the message is the inclusion of all. If we choose to look forward and see all being included – rejoice! If we are working for the restoration of the 'good old days' – then I for one want to opt out. If we are working for the betterment of humanity, even if it is done in the name of plain humanism, then count me in!

Again I reflect that 'the church' has placed upon us 'colonials' the task to build the church buildings – replicating the style but never attaining the grandeur of the ones in the mother country. Then we have to pay the stipend of the priest or minister or else again we will be looked down on as second-class congregations. All this when those of the recent generations in the motherland have benefited from past bequests and are not saddled with such enormous burdens.

The word of God is still active, it still comes to us and its effect is cataclysmic, for it is surely one of peace for us and for all. The old burdens have been lifted and we can look to a new future, unencumbered by the ancient rivalries and distinctions between people.

For everything which brings us into communion with others, be it in the name of God, Christ, Moses, Buddha, Mohammed, or whoever, is the word of God coming to us in our day, lifting us from slavery to the past and propelling us into life in all its fullness, into the kingdom prepared for all. The second coming comes as we are incarnated into society. We are the second coming – or not – as we choose.

(Comments to Chris at frsparky@bigpond.net.au.)

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Chaplain – Orange Health Service