#Wild

On the 8th day of Advent the #AdventWord2018 is #wild.

Today also happens to be the 2nd Sunday of Advent. Bursting on the scene, through the gospel reading on this day,is a man who emerges from the wilderness and preaches around the Jordan river.

His name is John the Baptist. He is a cousin of Jesus.

John the Baptist dresses in camel hair and leather and eats locusts and wild honey. There was nothing unusual about either his dress or his diet for people living in that wild desert region.

What I see as most 'wild' about him was his fearless, passionate preaching.
 John the Baptist was wild in the risks he took in his prophetic preaching. Crowds come out to be baptised by him and he calls those coming, 'you brood of vipers'. This was because he saw that some of those who asked for his baptism of repentance, were not repentant, not willing to change the way that lived and so show the genuine fruits of repentance.

John the Baptist was 'wild' in that he was not afraid to criticise people who held secular or religious power, pointing out the injustices of his time. He spoke truth to power and in the end it cost him his life. Born into a privileged priestly tribe, he could have led a tamer, more comfortable life, but he obeyed God's call into the wilderness and from there to deliver his uncomfortable message.

The 17th century Scottish poet William Drummond paints a vivid picture of John the Baptist as a rather wild man with an uncompromising message: repent.


JOHN THE BAPTIST
The last and greatest herald of heaven's king.
Girt with rough skins, hies to the desert wild.
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring
which he than man more harmless found and wild. 
His food was locusts and what young doth spring.
With honey that from virgin hives distilled;
parched body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
made him appear long since from earth exiled. 
There burst he forth: "All ye, whose hopes rely
On God, with me admist these deserts mourn:
Repent, repent, and from old errors turn."
Who listened to his voice, obeyed his cry? 
Only the echoes which he made relent.
Rung from their marble caves, Repent, repent.


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