Bread for the Journey, Monday in the Third Week of Easter

From the Daily Lectionary for Monday in the Third Week of Easter

Matthew 3:1-6
In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’ This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,
‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.” ’

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
 
 
 
When it comes to interpreting scripture I talk a lot about typology. Understanding its use in biblical texts is essential to understanding the meaning and theology the scribes wish to convey. A “type” is a person or event or place that recurs in biblical history… history repeating itself, as it were. It is through typology that these ancient writers reveal the ‘pattern’ of human existence; moreover, it is a means by which these writers reveal the pattern by which God operates in the world, in history. Some things remain true. Some things that we recognize in our experience of history can be counted on. Typology is often metaphorical, but it is rooted in life’s experience, in persons and events and places in the annals of Israel’s history.

This passage from Matthew is laden with typology. First, the description of John the Baptist would evoke in the hearer the image of the prophet Elijah, a wild and rustic prophet who healed the sick, fed the hungry, spoke the truth, and challenged the orthodox. And then there’s the desert. The desert is a scene that recurs throughout the dramatic iterations of Israel’s history. The desert is all too familiar to them, stark, lifeless, dangerous… and paradoxically, beautiful. The ancient people of Israel, legend has it, endured forty years in the Sinai desert after their exodus from slavery in Egypt. The only way to return home from exile in Babylon was through the desert of Persia. Jesus is tested just after his baptism in the Judean desert for forty days. For the New Testament writers these are intimately connected. Matthew here, in his account of the appearance of John the Baptist and Jesus’ baptism draws on the imagery from Isaiah, “a voice crying in the wilderness: prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” These are images of deliverance, a pattern in the life of God, and for God’s people. The typology is rich: deliverance must pass through dangerous and sometimes deadly trials. Deliverance travels stark, lifeless and dangerous landscape; but life, we have been taught, finds a way in the desert, however improbable.

Baptism is our initiation into the desert wherein we’ll need all of our resourcefulness and skill, and no small measure of courage. We are to offer companionship for those also on the desert journey, as we in solidarity with our fellow travelers discover life in the midst of lifelessness. The life of faith at its heart is to trust the pattern. Why then should we fear, if we know the pattern holds true?

The literature of the Bible, both Hebrew Scripture, and the New Testament, are testimonials to the pattern: That death, in its myriad guises, is not an end, but a liminal place, a place of transformation in which the beginnings of new life and possibility germinate and spring forth. Perhaps a useful rubric for us in this time of pandemic is: Be grateful for the day, the beauty in which we live, despite the danger… and trust the pattern and its possibilities for the future. History has taught us as much. Why then should we be afraid?

Collect (BCP p. 395)
Almighty God, by your Holy Spirit you have made us one with your saints in heaven and earth: Grant that in our earthly pilgrimage we may always be supported by this fellowship of love and prayer, and know ourselves to be surrounded by their witness to your power and mercy. We ask this for the sake of Jesus Christ, in whom all our intercessions are acceptable through the Spirit, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.