The British are known for some unusual habits, one of them is the ability to queue. Some say it comes from the days of rationing during World War Two.  I don’t know if this is true or not, but we certainly sense the injustice when there are queue jumpers who don’t play by the rules and wait their turn. Standing in line is like a form of limbo.  We are neither here nor there, we just have to wait.  We are creatures who love to have a purpose, and we get restless when we lack one.  But sometimes it may be that the limbo is the purpose. Airport terminals are like that.  In an airport, you are in a kind of geographical limbo.  For however long you have to wait, you are neither here nor there, and there is little to do except listen eagerly for your gate to be called and prepare. 

The Bible has its own geographical limbo: the wilderness.  Much more than a place of dust and rocks, the wilderness has a spiritual significance in the relationship between God and his people.  It is in the wilderness that God calls Moses from the burning bush to lead his people out of Egypt, and it is in the wilderness that the Israelites wander for 40 years while they learn to be the people of God.  After his baptism, Jesus is led into the wilderness to discern his call. So, when the word of the Lord came to John, son of Zechariah, in the wilderness, we know something of real importance is about to happen.  John was in the wilderness from his childhood until the day he appeared publicly to Israel. His call is the drum roll that announces salvation is near.  It is a turning point in time. And so he becomes John the Baptist, preparing the way for the Lord.  The one foretold by the prophet Malachi; a messenger who will prepare the way for the Messiah.

It may be a long wait: it may seem painfully boring, even pointless, but the wilderness is where the seeds of change are sown and nurtured. It is a time of waiting and listening for the voice of God.  And when it comes, who knows where God might lead us? That is the message of John and all the Prophets before him. So, as we wait this Advent, making our preparations for Christmas, let’s say yes to all that God holds for us. The  poet Jan Richardson expresses it this way in this poem:

Prepare

Strange how one word
will so hollow you out.
But this word
has been in the wilderness
for months.
Years.

This word is what remained
after everything else
was worn away
by sand and stone.
It is what withstood
the glaring of sun by day,
the weeping loneliness of
the moon at night.

Now it comes to you
racing out of the wild,
eyes blazing
and waving its arms,
its voice ragged with desert
but piercing and loud
as it speaks itself
again and again:

Prepare, prepare.

It may feel like
the word is levelling you,
emptying you
as it asks you
to give up
what you have known.

It is impolite
and hardly tame,
but when it falls
upon your lips
you will wonder
at the sweetness,

like honey
that finds its way
into the hunger
you had not known
was there.

Jan Richardson, from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons