A Poem a Sunday
Advent II – B
December 10, 2017
Mark 1:1-8 - NRSV
The Proclamation of
John the Baptist
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,’”
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.
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@A Poem a Sunday
May be
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