Tuesday, December 5, 2017

A Poem a Sunday
Advent II – B
December 10, 2017


Mark 1:1-8 - NRSV

The Proclamation of John the Baptist
1 The beginning of the good news[a] of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. [b]
2 As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, [c]
“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, [d]
    who will prepare your way;
3 the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
    ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
    make his paths straight,’”
4 John the baptizer appeared[e] in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with[f] water; but he will baptize you with[g] the Holy Spirit.”

Footnotes:

[a] Mark 1:1 Or gospel
[b] Mark 1:1 Other ancient authorities lack the Son of God
[c] Mark 1:2 Other ancient authorities read in the prophets
[d] Mark 1:2 Gk before your face
[e] Mark 1:4 Other ancient authorities read John was baptizing
[f] Mark 1:8 Or in
[g] Mark 1:8 Or in

Advent II - B

Advent: Repent

Repent in Advent
I thought that
was reserved for Lent!

Cross to the desert
through the Jordan waters
a fresh baptism
to clear away
the clutter.

But I’m fine
aren’t you with
my Christmas preparations:
lighting Advent candles
and praying for our nation?

Really, is there more
to prepare for
more than cookies and cakes,
gift wrapping, tree lighting,
for heaven’s sake?

~

A turning, a yearning,
a journey through the desert,
a heart throbbing in hope
of being made new:
fresh love,
creative starts,
no more
status quo you
but a work
of God’s art.

Resistant are we
unless and
until we enter
the desert and
and remain very still.
Hear and respond
to J. B.’s cry
to die to the old
and turn to the one
born humbly in a stable
at Bethlehem.

Copyright @A Poem a Sunday
May be used with permission

kennstorck@gmail.com

No comments:

Post a Comment