Advent 2 – 2020
Mark 1:1-8
Marian Free
In the name of God “who is casting down the barriers” and coming in love to claim us. Amen.
There is an event from my childhood that comes back to haunt me from time to time. It is only a small thing, but it taught me a big lesson. Like many families, ours had a nightly ritual of ‘goodnight’ kisses. If we had taken ourselves to bed and our parents had not come in to say ‘goodnight’, my sister and I would call out in a sing song voice; “Mummy and Daddy, come and kiss us!” It was a comforting routine and one that assured us that parents would come, that we were important to them. One night, I think it was when I was about eleven, mum came in as usual. Whether it was because we had guests I don’t know, but I do remember that my eleven-year-old self insisted that I was too big for goodnight kisses. I can’t quite recall my mother’s face, but I think there was an element of surprise and maybe disappointment. To her credit, in this as in other matters, she didn’t press me, and the kisses ceased from that point.
I often wonder if mum was sad that I had ended that routine but of course, the person who suffered most was myself. Through my own actions I had cut myself off, not only from the nightly routine, but from expressions of parental affection. I had created a barrier that was hard to break through. I had put an end to one way in which my mother could show her love for me.
There are all kinds of reasons why we lock people out. Mine was apparently a belief that nightly kisses were for babies. There are some people have been so badly hurt that they build up barriers between themselves and others. If they don’t let anyone in, they think they can’t be hurt. Others put up barriers because they don’t think they are good enough or clever enough to warrant attention or affection. Still others refuse help because they want to assert their independence or because they fear that their independence will be compromised if they display any weakness.
I’m sure that we all know or have known people who push us aside, who refuse to be helped or who will not let anyone show affection to them. The problem is, that such people, like my younger self hurt themselves more than they hurt others and they become even more isolated and alone, less able to acknowledge – to themselves and to others – that they might need help or that they would in fact benefit from care and affection.
I suspect that the same can be said of some people’s relationship with God. That is, there are those who think that they won’t ever be good enough for God so they push God away, refusing to believe that God could love someone like them. Some have been so hurt by the church (or its officials) or taught that God is punitive and cruel that they are quite unable to open themselves to love of any kind, let alone the love of God. Still others simply don’t want God to cramp their style. They refuse to let God in because they are afraid that if they do, they will have to give up behaviours that are incompatible with a relationship with God. And there are those who feel they need to keep God at a safe distance because they do not want to admit that they need the love and support that God can give. To them a relationship with God would be a sign of weakness, an indication that they could manage on their own.
Pushing God away damages us more than it damages God. God, like my mother, will not force anyone to accept affection and support against their will, and those who know God and who deliberately lock God out of their lives will inevitably miss out on the warmth, encouragement and confidence that comes from knowing oneself loved by God.
In today’s gospel John the Baptist quotes Isaiah: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord.” Isaiah continues: “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” (Is 40:3). Isaiah is assuring the people that their time of desolation has come to an end and is urging them to ensure that they remove any barriers that would prevent God’s return. John the Baptist makes the same plea: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight”. One difference between the two is that John’s call for repentance (literally turning around) suggests that the barriers he is thinking of are the barriers of our own making and rather than the physical barriers envisaged by Isaiah.
Advent is a time of preparation, a time to ensure that we are ready for God’s return – whenever and however that will be. We can make ourselves ready by polishing up the outside, by doing good works and practicing ‘holiness’. We can fret about whether we are good enough or whether we have done enough. Or we can look at ourselves and our lives. Are there parts of our lives from which we have locked God out? Have we built up protective barriers – so that we won’t be disappointed In God or so that we won’t be exposed as inadequate? Is there anything at all that prevents us from resting in God’s love?
Are we fearfully preparing to be judged, or confidently waiting for God to take us in God’s arms for all eternity?
Swallowsrest 