The second Sunday of Advent challenges us to prepare for the coming of Jesus—not only for his joyous arrival at Christmas, but also, perhaps more importantly in the here and now, for his anticipated return at the end of time. Linguistically, we get the word “prepare” from the Latin “praeparo,” itself made up of two parts. Breaking it down, “prae” means “before” or “in advance,” while “paro” means “to make ready” or “to arrange.” Thus, even this simple words cries out with a weighty call for proactive, thoughtful readiness.
This is the essence of our collective journey as Christians, as disciples of Jesus. We are to actively ready our hearts and foster ongoing vigilance and righteousness. Beyond festive decorations and seasonal traditions, our preparation in this time of Advent is a continual, intentional process. We are never done preparing. We are never fully ready. But this preparation is our ongoing work as disciples of Jesus called to be his hands and feet in the world that God loved so much to come into for our sake. Keep that in mind today as we prepare for the coming of Jesus’ and learn more about what it means to do just that.
Let us pray. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I had a sandbox at both my grandparents’ houses when I was little kid. I’d spend hours upon hours in the sandbox, as kids do…or did. Do kids still play in sandboxes anymore? At any rate, one of the things that I loved to do was build up a huge pile of sand—I especially liked in the springtime when Pappy Spigelmyer would get a brand new dump-truckload of sand—and I’d pretend I was making roads. I had an old trowel that I’d pretend was a paver, and I’d made roads all over the mountain of sand. When I wanted to start over, I’d just smash up the smoothed out “roads,” and do it over again. I spent countless hours in the sandbox making roads this way. Simpler times…
Today we begin with the opening lines of St. Mark’s gospel. Mark, in his account of Jesus’ ministry, doesn’t begin with a genealogy like Matthew. He doesn’t begin by setting the stage of Jesus’ arrival into history, complete with the backstory of his cousin. No—we begin, as literary analysts will say, in media res, in the middle of things. And with a quote—“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
This, we’re told, is written in the prophet Isaiah, and it speaks of John the Baptist, the forerunner—and cousin, according to Luke’s gospel—to Jesus. While Jesus is the Messiah long expected, John is seen or understood by many as a type, or representation of the prophet Elijah. (FYI – we get the word “type” from the Greek that means “to strike,” as in the sense of striking coins…each coin was a type cast of the original die.) He fits into the overall arc of God’s salvation story from the creation of the world, through the Exodus, the judges, the kings, and the exile and prophets, which culminates in the ministry, the whole life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus.
These events in the past, in the history of God’s people, are typologically pointing to God’s greatest act of life in Jesus…And John fits into that arc as fulfilling the role of the prophet Elijah…calling people to repentance and remembering their deliverance from Egypt, the high point of Jewish religion. John represents that high point, and promises that something still better is coming. He’s here to prepare the way, the new exodus. Not an exodus from the bondage of Egypt, but an exodus from the bondage of sin—an exodus from anything and everything that will stand in the way of our good relationship with God.
And this preparation is like making a road. Pretty mundane terms, but in some respects, it’s kind of poetic, what with how the original Exodus from Egypt was a journey along an uncharted way, Moses led by the pillar of fire and cloud, leading the people of Israel along a way they had never traversed. John is now preparing the way for another exodus, but there’s already a road in place. That road needs preparation…Like the roads I made in the sandbox, and many literal roads in our own day-to-day lives, the old road needs to be removed before a new road can come in. The entirety of the road isn’t removed; the sand stayed behind, and the bedrock of existing roads remain intact, but for the most part, everything is made new in preparing for a new road to come in.
When a road is removed and repaved, initially a milling machine is used to remove the existing asphalt surface, grinding it into small pieces. After this milling, loaders and dump trucks transport the milled material away, leaving a clean surface.
Next, a bulldozer comes in to grade the exposed surface. This ensures there’s a proper slope for drainage. Any damaged base or subbase materials are identified and replaced or rehabilitated.
Compaction equipment, such as vibratory rollers, is then used to compress the underlying layers. This is to further shore up the stability of the road.
Then a tack coat—a thin layer of asphalt emulsion—is applied to promote adhesion between the old and new surfaces. This ensures a strong bond for the fresh asphalt layer.
The repaving phase involves an asphalt paver, which spreads and levels the hot mix asphalt. Finally, heavy rollers compact the new asphalt, finishing up the smooth and durable road surface.
It’s an involved process…this preparation for a new road.
And today, we’re told John goes ahead of Jesus to do work that is like this. But what’s that all mean, in particular for us, today? It’s a nice idea, preparing for Jesus, for God to come among us, but what difference does it make? The anticipation of Jesus’ return and the establishment of his eternal kingdom aligns with the intricate process of road construction. The biblical call to “prepare the way of the Lord” echoes the meticulous planning required, akin to the initial phases of road removal and repaving.
Just as milling machines break down old surfaces to make way for a new road, getting ourselves ready for God in our lives involves breaking away from the old so that a path for spiritual renewal can be paved.
But we don’t do this work alone—or even at all by ourselves. The milling machines are the transformative work of the Holy Spirit, breaking down the old spiritual layers and making room for renewal. While the noise generated may create disruptions in our lives, it’s also the Holy Spirit’s dogged work that stirs our hearts and limbers our hands with God’s purpose. This is repentance—acknowledging the noise of life for what it is, truly and honestly confronting it, and conforming our life—thoughts and actions—to God’s action. Daily the Holy Spirit brings us back to this renewal, this repentance, this reorientation to God’s path.
The dust and debris from all this noisy work highlight what we are left with when we repent, a true and honest understanding of the impurities and sins that plague our lives—frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; cutthroat competition; a putrid accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; paranoid loneliness; brutal tempers or covert grudges; an inability to show true love or accept love; divided homes and divided lives, yo say nothing of a divided nation; small-minded, lopsided, selfish pursuits; the vicious habit of dehumanizing everyone into a competitor instead of a companion; ugly parodies of community.
We all get caught up in this…in this sin—forces that are opposed to God’s good order. Popular wisdom promises us a way to contentment, yet these are the roads that we must go over to get there. These old ways of going about life are what need breaking down before any kind of new way forward can be paved in our lives.
And then the the water spray systems—they’re used to control dust in construction, and they’re are nothing more and nothing less than Holy Spirit poured out in baptism, which has united us with Jesus in death and resurrection and cleanses us as we prepare for his return.
The tack coat, sticky and challenging, is the ongoing, inseparable presence of the Holy Spirit that holds us secure in the love of God from which nothing’s able to separate us. The Holy Spirit brings unity and cohesion and daily enlightens us with her gifts, makes us holy and keeps us in true relationship with God, just as she gathers, enlightens, and makes holy all believers on earth and keeps us all, together, with Jesus Christ in this one common true bond.
Preparing a new road is work, and our Christian lives, lives as disciples of Jesus, looking for him to return—preparing for him to come is work. It’s not necessarily clean, tidy, easy work either. Reorienting our lives to seek justice, love kindness, and walk with humility before God and one another requires serious, serious sacrifice that goes against our own nature. It’s work, really hard work.
Yet, we aren’t the supervisors of this work. The Holy Spirit oversees all this work. She protects us and guides us safely through challenges and potential pitfalls throughout the rebuilding process—a process that happens daily, from our birth to our death, and even beyond. The Holy Spirit smooths and refines our spiritual foundation, just as vibratory rollers smooth and refine the firm and solid foundation for literal roads.
Like crewmembers building a road, we need to be receptive to the Holy Spirit’s guidance and allow her to determine not only our spiritual course, but the whole direction of every moment of our lives. In this we prepare the way for the coming messiah, we ready the royal highway, we pave the way for the Way…Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God.
Acknowledging the transformative work of the Holy Spirit, embracing repentance, and fostering unity among ourselves as a community of believers—these prepare us to be ready, as ready as we can be, for Jesus to come again. These are the essential elements as we pave the way for the glorious return of Jesus and the establishment of his everlasting kingdom of love.
So let’s get to work.
And let God’s people say, “Guide us, Holy Spirit.”
The Rev'd Daniel W. Spigelmyer, Jr. 