Mark 1:4-11
Last
Sunday many of us had taken our designated seats in the Temple of the NFL. It
was the fourth quarter, third and one, and America’s Team had their backs to
the wall. The Lions, a team I only root for when they are playing the Cowboys,
called a pass play, which isolated a linebacker on a tight end. The pass was
thrown and the defender appeared to grab the receiver. A flag flew in the air and
then without explanation was picked up. No one remembers the shanked punt on
the next play. Few have spoken a word about the ensuing Dallas touchdown. Hardly
anyone has raised issues with Detroit’s inability to score with two minutes
left. But everyone knows an erroneous mistake was made, forever blemishing the
reputation of head linesman Jerry Bergman. I imagine Mr. Bergman would love a
second chance on that pivotal call. But then don’t we all crave second chances?
When
I am playing golf with The Bunch, too often a wayward tee shot finds its final
resting place on the wrong side of the out of bounds stake. I start all over
again. When this second effort finds the middle of the fairway, one of my
playing partners will sarcastically utter, “Homer always hits it perfect.” In
golf, second chances, no matter how perfect, come with a two-stroke penalty. In
life, second chances are the genesis of our salvation.
Anne Tyler, in her
book Saint Maybe, writes about Ian, a
man torn with guilt over the death of his brother. She writes, “It was after
seven on a dismal January evening, and most places had closed. One window
glowed yellow, framing the block letters CHURCH OF THE SECOND CHANCE. Ian could
not see inside because the paper shade was lowered. As he walked by he could
hear the people singing. Ian could not make out the words but the voices were
strong and joyful. He paused at the intersection, halted by the light that
blinked, DON’T WALK. He hesitated, then turned and headed back to the church.”
Not only do we worship
at the Church of the Second Chance, perhaps the text we claim as sacred should be
called the Book of the Second Chances. The Old Testament begins with that great
theological poem describing God’s spirit in the midst of creation. In the mind
of the poet, this story has little to do with the universe and everything to do
with the day-to-day confusion that often dominates our lives. For years I understood
the creation story to suggest God created something out of nothing. But a closer
examination of the text reveals God’s creation emerges from chaos. Jon Levenson
writes, “To the ancients, the concept of ‘nothing’ was identified with
disorder, injustice, subjugation, disease, and death. When God creates, order
replaces disorder, justice replaces oppression, and healing replaces disease
and death. Creation is the replacement of nothing with something and that
something is seen by God to be good.” I find that to be a very comforting
thought.
But let’s not stop
with creation. The Old Testament is the persistent story of turning nothing
into something. Abraham is given the chance to turn nothing into a nation.
Jacob, a man of deceit and mistrust, wrestles with his nothingness. Moses leads
slaves to freedom. The wilderness invites former slaves to find their identity in
a God of mercy. Each voice that follows, be it David, or Elijah, or Jeremiah,
retreats to the wilderness to create something out of their nothingness. Every
narrative from Abraham to Ezekiel is driven by the hope that each
new quest will end in perfection. But those of us who spend way too much time
out of bounds know that is wishful thinking.
The good news is the
story does not end in the Old Testament. There is a second chapter to this book
of Second Chances. In the Gospel of Mark we are introduced to John the
Baptizer. One might refer to John as the High Priest of Second Chances. John
hung out in the wilderness, wore a camel shirt, and ate locusts dipped in
honey. He was hardly the guy you would want your daughter to marry. John was a
wild man, devoted to preaching a one-theme sermon that began and ended with the
word, “Repent.”
If John had stayed in
the desert or if John had remained out of politics, he probably would have kept
his head a lot longer. But then John would have not have been such a compelling
character. John knew it was not just the average guy on the street who needed a
second chance. John believed all of God’s creation longed for a rebirth from the
chaos that held the world in captivity.
I have nothing but
admiration for the John the Baptists of this world. Too often the church
becomes a self-imposed sanctuary from chaos. We need folks like John who have
the courage to raise volatile questions. John wants us to become involved. He
wants us to take a critical look at the compelling questions of our day. John
puts our feet to an uncomfortable fire and that demands repentance. The
difficulty for folks like John is that consternation only goes so far. To be critical is admirable. But to have no
alternative path sends us into a deadly tailspin. Second chances are a
wonderful opportunity, but second chances are worthless if we make the same
choice over and over again.
I once preached in a
community that was filled with born-again Christians. Each year many of the
churches would hire a well-known TV evangelist to come and hold a revival at
the local high school football stadium. For three nights the house was a rock’n
as the name of Jesus was proclaimed. Each year my fellow preachers would inform
me that thousands of folks had turned their lives over to Christ. I never saw
much difference in the size of their churches, and I certainly did not see much
change in the attitude of our community. But every year the same folks went to
the football stadium to get born-again all over again. They got born-again so
many times I couldn’t keep up with their birthdays. I never witnessed their
second or third chances doing much good. That is when I became convinced it
takes more than the ranting of John or even the heavy lifting of Jesus to get
the job done. I believe the grace of God to be universal, but I also believe
the reconciliation of this world depends on us making some radically different
choices.
Our story continues
with the appearance of Jesus. The personification of Elijah opened the door for
the embodiment of the Messiah. The God of Second Chances laid down a trump card
and even John the Baptizer was silent. This play was so astounding the heavens
were torn apart. And then God spoke, “You are my Son, and I am pleased.”
Have you ever thought
to yourself, “What is it that God found pleasing about Jesus?” That seems like
such a simple question. God found everything pleasing about Jesus.
But specifically, what
pleased God?
Well the list could be
endless. Jesus was perfect. He was the perfect example of perfect love, perfect
obedience, perfect forgiveness. Jesus was that second shot down the middle of
the fairway without a two-stroke penalty. Jesus was the perfect embodiment of
what God desires our second chances to become:
Perfect love of God
and neighbor;
Perfect obedience toward
the perfection of our relationship with God and neighbors;
Perfect forgiveness in
our imperfect transactions between God and neighbors.
No one gets it right
the first time. The God of Second Chances has spent an eternity watching us
begin our lives over and over again. Thankfully God’s patience is endless.
Thankfully God’s grace is timeless. Thankfully God waits:
Hoping we might try
something different;
Praying we might
embrace God’s past and God’s future;
Knowing that Jesus has
shown us the way to do both.
The good news of
Second Chances is God constantly invades the seasoned ground of our chaos.
DON’T WALK….. RUN
toward the light of God’s grace.
Amen.
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