“A Long Walk” 

Acts 8:14-17

Luke3:15-17, 21-22 

About 30 years ago I returned to Ft Benning, Georgia, for another Infantry officer training course.  Now, I was a tanker, I thought that walking around a hostile battlefield was not the way to go.  However, there I was among the Infantry.  One of the graduation requirements was a 25 mile road march, and it was the middle of a very hot, dripping wet humid, summer. 

The march was scheduled for Saturday.  We wanted our weekend free and thought that it made more sense to do it after class on Friday.  Amazingly, the leadership agreed that we could start at 7:00 o'clock.  So, after class, we each prepared in our own way.  Some got a meal thinking that they needed all the energy they could get.  We found others asleep in their cars, taking a nap before the beginning.  Some went to the I Bar, a rather notorious place, for a drink or two.  One of them set his canteen on the bar, telling the bartender to fill it up with whiskey, one shot at a time.  I think that he had had a few drinks already. 

Off we went.  It was hot and humid when we started.  It was still hot and humid after sunset and when we stopped at the half way point for an Army dinner.  It wasn't very appetizing in the heat; I didn't each much.  By then, the one with the whiskey had emptied his canteen.  

By the time we got back to the start, most of us were hurting.  I had dehydrated and really don't remember the last mile or two.  The guy with the whiskey had sobered up with an incredible hangover, making each step even more miserable.  For all of us, it was a long walk. 

I'd like to invite you to join me on an imaginary walk, 23 miles each direction.  We are walking from Jerusalem down to the River Jordan.  To help your imagination, we will start on top of Mt Logan (Jerusalem), we'll walk down and around the backside and then out as far as Wellsville; that's about the distance and elevation drop from Jerusalem to the Jordan. 

Please join me as we set out. 

There seem to be many of us making the trip today.  The stories about this wild preacher, John the Baptizer, coming out of the wilderness have certainly sparked the imagination of the residents.  All types of people are headed down the hill.  Look, there, there are some of the Pharisees and Scribes, you can tell them by the long robes and the rather smug expressions.  Surely they are not attracted by this idea of repentance of sins - they are rather positive that they do not sin with all their rules and ceremonial customs.  I might be a little cynical, but I wonder if they are looking for yet another ritual to impose upon us to make sure that we properly obey all the teachings.  But, to be fair, maybe it is the passion of John that attracts them.  There is no doubt that John is full of passion.  His mannerisms, his message, even his rather colorful vocabulary, all reflect his excitement about this one who is coming, this one who is greater than he is.  John has an intense urgency as well, now, now! is the time to repent!  The Pharisees, they also do have passion; they are excited about the arrival of a priestly Messiah.

These wadis, deep dry stream beds, are sure rough.  We've left the trees and green plants around Jerusalem; that cooling, moist wind off the sea is long gone.  Nothing grows out here; never has.  Sure, there are a few springs of water that might support a few cave dwellers and an occasional rain that washes down these gullies.  But right now, they are dry and hot.  I am dry and hot.  Oh, look!  A tax collector, a brave man.  I wonder if he just might fall into one of these ravines; doubt if anyone would care.  Not only is he wealthy, but I am sure that he has made his money at the expense of the rest of us.  He charges as much as he can get out of us and pockets whatever he doesn't have to give to his bosses, the Romans.  Oh, guess he's safe, next to him is a soldier - a good thing for the tax collector.  I don't want to lock eyes with the soldier - he might make me carry his pack and I already am hurting with just what I have brought for myself.  Now those two really do need to hear John's message to repent; that soldier needs to be baptized as well.  But what really brings them along this path?  Is it the newness of these teachings, perhaps this Holy Spirit and fire idea, or is it the idea of being the chaff burned in an unquenchable fire?  Perhaps, perhaps they see some hope, promised forgiveness, for all sinners! 

We have finally made it down the hills to the Jericho plains - not much further now.  I see some wealthy folks going along with us.  They are riding their donkeys, just like they have ridden on our backs.  My family used to be farmers until a bad year wiped them out.  The rich man in town gave them some help: he bought their land and let them stay and farm it.  They had to give him so much each year that they could no longer feed my grandparents and had to move.  They surely don't care about this baptism idea, baptism isn't for people like them.  It's not even for people like me - I know my family history and we are Jews.  Jews as far back as we can recite the names.  Baptism isn't for a Jew, it is only for those God fearers, those gentiles, who want to become part of God's chosen people.  After some less pleasant requirements are satisfied, they can be baptized, washing away their sinful past.  Perhaps these rich folks are interested because they have so much, too much.  This John lives on next to nothing, wears rough clothes and tells people to give their second coat, and anything else they have, to the poor.  Perhaps they are interested in finding the simple, aesthetic life; or at least talk about it over fine wine. 

We've made it to the River Jordan; sure isn't much.  A few cubits across and moving pretty slow at this point.  There is lush vegetation, not miserable like the wadis, a good place to spend the night.  Of course, I'll have to think about not becoming dinner for some lion roaming around here. 

There's a crowd over there.  I can't really see what is going on, much less hear.  The crowd says that John has been taken away by Herod, mad that John was telling him to repent as well!  But people are still being baptized - at least they are coming out of the river all wet. 

There is a buzz - this one John kept talking about, this one who is greater than John, is here.  He has just been baptized as well.  Suddenly, it is as if two wild horses, running away from each other, were tied to the very sky!  It is ripped open!  It is like there is nothing between us and heaven!  I see something, I'm sure it looks like a dove.  Through a gap in the crowd I see it settle on this special one, the one the crowd is calling Jesus.  Bezalel, the artist who made all the things for the Tabernacle was filled with the Spirit of God¹.  But it wasn't something solid, alive, like this dove.  Noise!  Thunder?  Can't be, for it sounds like words.  Words coming out of the sky, filling my ears, echoing off the plains around me!  “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love.  In you I am well-pleased.” 

That is the last thing I remember until I woke up beneath a tree. While it happened back when Pontius Pilate was governor and Annas and Caiaphas were the high priests, I still remember it vividly.   I know that I wasn't drinking too much wine on the way down from Jerusalem.  Perhaps it was exhaustion or the heat.  I had only a small meal; I'm sure glad that the lions didn't eat me.  I do remember that it was a very, very long walk back up to Jerusalem. 

As we face the trip home, the trip after the baptismal waters, what type of trip do we face?  Is it one as cynical as our traveler's view of the Pharisees?  It would be a long, slow climb back up Mt Logan if all we found was another teacher, another,   falsely claiming to be the Messiah.  Perhaps we are walking with a lighter step.  Sure, it is a long walk, but some of those burdens have been taken off our backs.  Some of the wealthy have decided to be generous, and return the property according to the custom of the Jubilee year.  The tax collector has even vowed to limit his profit.  It is even easier to walk when the hurt has been removed, when we do not have to carry the load of the soldier, or the load of our own sin; sin that was washed away in the river's water.  We might even feel like we are soaring back, carried by the same Holy Spirit that gave strength and comfort to Jesus; that was then given to the early church.  What did you see at the River Jordon?  How long of a walk is it, for you?  Perhaps, some of us are still at the waters edge, still wondering if we should enter these waters, claim the promises as our own. 

Regardless of how long your imaginary walk home was, let us walk together to this table.  Whether cynical or soaring, hurting or cleansed, still burdened and oppressed or freed from bondage, we are all welcome.  Whoever believes in Jesus, whoever has been baptized in His name, is welcomed with open arms and encouragement. 

Here we celebrate more than what John pointed to, more than repentance and baptism.  Here we celebrate the complete forgiveness of our sins proclaimed by Jesus.  Here we celebrate the presence of the Holy Spirit with us even now, promised by our Risen Lord Jesus.  And we celebrate in anticipation of our feasting again with Jesus when he returns or when we join him in eternity. 
 

January 7, 2007

Rev. Al Hammond

First Presbyterian Church

Logan, Utah