The Pains of Being Prepared
Text: Mark 6:14-29
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
John the Baptist was the forerunner of Christ. Anyone who’s ever heard of him in the Church has heard this before. And likely that means that you’ve heard what his single-minded task was: to prepare people for the coming Savior. So through every Advent, as we prepare for the celebration of the birth of our Lord, we hear the Baptizer again, lowering the hills and raising the valleys, as he was prophesied to do, making a straight and clear way for the coming One. That is to say, John the Baptist brought down the high and raised up the low. That means that all were to be made ready for the coming Christ, high and low alike, king and beggar. And how was John to prepare everyone, both high and low, for the arrival of the Lord? By preaching repentance; that is, telling people to turn from those things that had separated them from God. He toppled the little idols that people had come to cherish: their wealth, their prestige in the community, their own goodness, their status and power, their pet sins that they enjoyed or that made them successful by the world’s judgment. All people were to recognize the little substitutions they had come to trust in instead of their God. They were confess their sins and receive forgiveness, to start over with their Lord before He came to live among them as their Savior.
But, as it so often happens, this preaching, this need for repentance met resistance. Those who are high and prideful are rarely willing to be told that they may be in the wrong about anything. So it was with Herod. He would not be convinced by John the Baptist. There was a hardness of heart in Herod that would not turn away from those things he was doing that drove him away from the Lord; away from what God had said was good and right. Perhaps it was because Herod thought he was above such rules and laws, so he took his brother’s wife, something that would cause most anyone to raise their eyebrows in scandalous surprise. Maybe it was that he thought he was a special case, exempt from this commandment that was clearly meant for all those other people outside the palace—kings have special rules and duties to their kingdom, so what was a broken commandment here if it solidified his power and made him happy? Or it may be as simple as the fact that he just didn’t want to give up this unlawfulness because he enjoyed it and liked how it made him feel. No matter the rationale, Herod refused to be prepared for the Savior by not turning from his sin as John the Baptist called for him to do.
This is the obstacle to be overcome by all of us fallen children of man. This is the craggy mountain in our hearts that must be brought low. For what human is there who does not need to be made ready for the Savior? And if the whole point of Jesus coming to this world is to forgive our sins and save us from death, how else will we be prepared for Him saving us, if not by admitting that we need to be saved in the first place, that we have sin that needs to be forgiven. So John the Baptizer’s call to repent, to admit we have things that we need to be released from, to turn and face the light of the Lord who is on His way toward us, that call is not only for Herod, not only for the tax collectors and sinners and Pharisees there in ancient Judah. It’s also for us.
But there’s that stubbornness, not only in Herod, but in all of us, that says we don’t need to turn away from those things, whatever they might be in our own minds and hearts. There’s that whisper inside that says we don’t have to give it up, not really. It might be because we think that particular commandment we don’t want to hear is meant for other people, other times, other places. Or maybe we think that we’re the exception, a special case, so that law doesn’t apply to me. Or maybe we just like doing those things that the Commandments say are unlawful.
It is a dangerous path to walk, refusing to be prepared for salvation. The conscience has to try to defend itself whenever we try to counter God’s Word. Many try to push away that voice that says, “Repent,” whether it’s John the Baptist’s, or the prophets’, or the Apostles’, or our parents’, or our pastor’s. We try to get it out of earshot, out of the way, out of sight, out of mind—like Herod imprisoning John. It may not be that dramatic in our case; it may just be that we tell that voice to go, or we go away from where that voice is speaking; or we tell it to talk about something else, or to leave and speak to others, but don’t say any of that stuff to me—much like the corrupt priest Amaziah told the prophet Amos in our Old Testament reading today. Or perhaps, if we’re not willing to be that direct, we may try to fill our time and thoughts with any and every distraction so that we don’t have to really let those words sink in, so that we don’t have to think about the necessity to turn back to the Lord and His ways. Or, as it has been throughout history, there may very well be the most extreme reaction: the killing of that voice—killed in our hearts as we close the door to ever hearing it again, or, as in the case of Herodias having John murdered, quite literally, as we see in the martyrdom of believers all over the world to this day.
But for all these efforts, nothing is really gained by those running away from that voice. Notice Herod’s reaction after Jesus appears—the same Jesus that John had tried to prepare Herod for. Herod hears about the signs and wonders that Jesus is performing, the ways He’s healing and forgiving and saving people’s lives, and Herod is afraid. We would think that he would be fascinated or hopeful, but his conscience is terrified by the Messiah. He’s so scared that he thinks this man preaching the same message of repentance and forgiveness must be John raised from the dead. The arrival of the Savior is not a joy for the one who has no desire to be saved. And so Herod is afraid. Judgment must be coming for him, since deep down he knew he was doing wrong, even though he tried to cover it up with enjoyment and fun and pleasure, locked that irritating voice up in prison, and even ultimately gave the order for its execution. He refused to be prepared for the coming Savior.
How will you greet your Lord? Will it be with fear of judgment over what you’ve done wrong and not given up? Will be in anger, arrogance, or resentment that you couldn’t just have things the way you wanted them? Will it be reluctantly because you don’t want to give up those things He’s said are not good for you? Will it be with hope, faith, even love? Will you greet Him with joy? If you would see Him come to you and rejoice over it, first you must be made ready for Him. If you would be glad at your Savior’s arrival, at the works of salvation that He does to pluck you out of sin, death, and danger, you must see those things that you need to be saved from for what they are. You must admit that you’re waist deep in trouble—more than that, you’re sinking beneath it and going under. And that’s all that repentance is: confessing that you need to saved from those thoughts, words, and deeds that have gotten between you and your Lord, that have kept you from seeing Him as the source of every good, those things that have demanded your faith so that you were tempted to trust them more than your God. So repent, turn away from those things, tell your Lord that you want to be saved from them. Receive forgiveness, from the same voices that He’s sent before: John the Baptist, the prophets and apostles, your parents and pastors. Receive forgiveness and life in the Lord’s body and blood. Be made ready, and then, when all has been prepared, see your Lord come to you. Hear him, as you have heard John, and rejoice, for God’s kingdom has come to you. In the name of Jesus, who is coming to His Church. Amen.

