In Mark’s telling, it can feel as if things happen rapid-fire: this, then this, then this, sort of breathlessly.  It may have been just like that.  It may also be that there were days or weeks, even months, between one event and another, sort of like our own lives.  We know the earthly ministry of Jesus lasted some three years; we aren’t given and don’t need a day-by-day account of that time.  Jesus is baptized and at once the Spirit compels him out into the wilderness: something needed to happen out there in preparation for what baptism consecrated Jesus to do.  At the right time, later, Jesus returns to Galilee, with a familiar message.  It’s the Gospel of God.  John had proclaimed it, too.

John was in prison, not for preaching the Good News, but the result is the same: with John locked away, the powers that be, political and religious, feel they can rest easier, get back to business as usual.  It seems both God’s Word and those speaking God’s Word are always rather inconvenient for those exercising power and authority in this world, including religious power and authority.  As theologian and church historian Carl Trueman observes, “The world does not want the church’s approval.  It has managed very well without that for many years and will continue to do so.  What the world wants is the church’s capitulation.”[1]  Stop being a pest!  Toe the party line!  Get on the right side of History!  Herod didn’t need John’s approval, though John’s disapproval was irritating.  John would not capitulate, so he was seized and thrust away into Herod’s dungeon, to be silenced and forgotten there.  Anyone who tried what John had been doing could expect the same: that was the message.

“After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, preaching the good news [the gospel, RSV] of God” (1:14).  Is this foolishness, bravery, the compulsion of the Spirit, the conviction of consecration?  Jesus knew what had happened to his cousin.  Jesus proclaimed the Good News, knowing already where his road would lead.  What of us?  What’s the point for us?  Where does the road lead for us?  The world neither needs nor wants our approval, despite the eagerness among so many in the mainline churches in so many instances to give approval. The world requires capitulation, unconditional surrender, the public admission that they are right and we are wrong, they are compassionate, open-minded and we narrow and mean, that their power is greatest, and just.  The world speaks much of justice yet knows so little of righteousness.  What is justice without righteousness?  It’s a cross on a hill.  Yet God can use even our injustice for the purposes and plans of His righteousness.

Bravery is not the absence of fear.  Bravery is the decision to act.  The danger isn’t really physical or temporal.  The real danger is spiritual and therefore eternal.

Jesus begins in Galilee: home, familiar territory.  A little about Galilee—it was densely-populated.  No wonder word spread so fast regarding the teaching and, even more, the works of Jesus.  We hear of people coming from all around to see, hear, and be healed—from where were they all coming?  It was a densely-populated place.  By all accounts, Galilee was very fertile, which would have made life a little more pleasant for the people there than in other regions and would have given them a strong sense, if their hearts were open to it, of the providence and goodness of God.  People in Galilee had the rich opportunity of being keenly aware of the blessings of the Lord.

Galilee was a Jewish region surrounded entirely by pagan gentiles and half-breed Samaritans.  That would have been a source of ongoing tension, and ongoing exchange.  It could result in some instances in the most rigid demands for conformity and, in other instances, that proximity could promote a tenuous sort of cooperation and tolerance.  Josephus, an ancient Jewish writer active a generation after Jesus, wrote of how the Galileans tended to be “fond of innovations and by nature disposed to changes, and delighted in seditions.  They were ever ready to follow a leader who would begin an insurrection.  They were quick in temper and given to quarreling.”[2]  Looking for, eager for something new, something different—like John, Jesus was certainly going to bring that.  Sedition and insurrection, uprising—that may have been just the sort of hero the Galileans were seeking, the Messiah they wanted, expected.  The conquering hero.  Time to fight!  Jesus doesn’t tell us it’s time to fight.  He tells us it’s time to have faith, genuine faith, faith that comes from the Spirit, that comes to us out in the wilderness of this world and guides and blesses, sustains and heals.

The Good News that John was proclaiming, and Jesus soon after, wasn’t that our deeds or fighting will save us but that we are saved by faith, a heart devoted to God rather than to power, prestige, praise, promotion, and perfection here.  Salvation by faith—devotion to the Word of God as interpreted by the Spirit of truth, rather than devotion to the many words of men making what they will of God’s Word.  There are many congenial perspectives on God’s Word out there, beloved, and only one truth.  The truth is big, with room enough for multitudes, and it is exclusive.

The good news is that God has good news for us.  In a world of bad news, depressing, discouraging news, God sends good news!  You who get to feeling hopeless, seeing all the hopelessness out there: there is hope!  You who see the death and sorrow seemingly on every side, there is life!  You who have begun to feel so lost, you who have tried one way and another only to find each was a terrible trap, there is a way.  There is restoration, reconciliation.  It doesn’t begin with or depend upon you, but it involves you—it invites you; God offers you a part in His great, holy work.

God had made a promise.  His people were well aware, desperately, painfully aware.  Jesus says, “The time has come [. . .] The kingdom of God has come near.  Repent [of your sins, NLT; change your life, MSG] and believe the good news!” (1:15).  Last year, there was some transitory excitement about a green comet that hadn’t been seen in fifty thousand years, as astronomers told us.  Halley’s Comet is visible every seventy-five years or so; that’s still a long wait.  I missed my last chance and doubt that I’ll be around when it next comes through.  Jesus is saying that what had seemed far away was now, truly, near, so very near, near enough to touch, hold.  This was as close as it was going to come.  There was only so much time to claim it before it continued on its way, before you let it get away.  Your one, best chance is now!

The Coast Guard may not get to have submarines and aircraft carriers, but they do get to rescue people.  On the open water, there’s a definite window for rescue.  Imagine what Jesus is saying like this: people were out on a large boat.  The seas got rough.  The batteries failed.  The pumps stopped working.  The boat capsized.  Everyone got off the boat, but they were now in the water, some with life preservers, a few without, trying to tread water, hold onto anything floating.  They had gotten out a distress call but had no way of knowing if anyone had heard or could do anything in time.  I guess you could say all they had out there in the chilly, choppy water was faith.  The boat finally sank at twilight.  Maybe you can imagine the quiet, the awful, dark, cold silence when there’s no help.

I want to tell you that all those who got off the boat were still there in the water, hours later, when some thought they heard something, distant, deep, strong, beating the air, round and round, then a light: a bright, straight, narrow line from sky to sea; oh, the cries for help!  Closer, nearer, then, at last, just over them, the helicopter, orange and white in its lights, and in the light, a man coming down, jumping in with them, to begin pulling people out, lifting them up, until each one was safe, saved.

God fulfills His promises; He is true to His Word.  God has done something, is doing something.  There’s something for you to do, too.

               [1] Carl R. Trueman.  “Why Most Anglican Clergy Now Approve Gay Marriage—and What This Means for the Future of the Church.”  First Things.  September 7, 2023.

               [2] Qtd in William Barclay.  The Gospel of Luke.  1953.  Daily Study Bible.  Philadelphia: Westminster P, 1975.  45.