Grace and peace to you through Jesus Christ who has come to comfort his people. Amen.

Mark 1:1-8 The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God. ² It is written in Isaiah the prophet: "I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way"-- ³ "a voice of one calling in the desert, 'Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.'" ⁴ And so John came, baptizing in the desert region and preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁵ The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. ⁶ John wore clothing made of camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. ⁷ And this was his message: "After me will come one more powerful than I, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. ⁸ I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

O Advent Lord, help us to be prepared at all times for your coming. Keep our hearts filled with true contrition and faith; overcome our doubts; cast sin from our lives, keep us from becoming too comfortable with the treasures and sinful pleasures offered by this world. Cause your Holy Spirit to work powerfully in us with his grace through Word and sacrament, for that is the only way we can truly be prepared for your arrival. Amen.

John the Baptist was different. He was different enough to attract attention: "The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him." But what did they go out to see?

What they saw was a rather strange looking, strange sounding, strange acting phenomenon. John didn’t operate, as one might normally expect, preaching in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Jerusalem. His ministry was carried out in the wilderness near the Jordan River. He dressed funny – a rough camel’s hair garment and a plain leather belt. And he ate locusts with a nice wild honey glaze. His diet consisted of what he could catch.

Put them all together and what you get is almost the picture of a vagabond. The definition of a vagabond (and I looked it up) is someone with no permanent home, who is constantly on the move. Unfortunately, that word also refers to someone who is wandering around aimlessly, without direction and goal. And that is certainly not John the Baptist!

John knew where he was going! And that is why he was the way he was! Both his clothing and his diet spoke of priorities of heaven and not of earth. His location (or lack of one), his stylish clothing (or lack of it), and his gourmet diet (or absence of one) were all visual aids, pointing to the fact that John was on the move. He certainly was not a vagabond, moving about aimlessly, but instead he was a pilgrim. A pilgrim is a person whose living arrangement at the moment is temporary, because he has somewhere else to go. That is exactly John the Baptist! He was a pilgrim whose home, clothing and diet were temporary. He was out there in the rugged places of the Judean countryside preparing people for a permanent home.

The lessons for this Second Sunday of Advent stress for us that, like John the Baptist, we are a pilgrim people – people on the move, people with a direction – and that we haven't arrived there yet. Peter makes it very clear in our second lesson that this world is temporary: "The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare." (2 Peter 3:10) All of our homes, clothing, and food will eventually be destroyed and burned up. So why are we so concerned about all these material things? Why do they consume us so? Don’t we realize that we are a pilgrim people? One day we will be able to exchange all these worthless, worldly baubles and trinkets for the heavenly mansion of heaven, the white robes of the saints, and the eternal banquet feast of heaven?

Have you seen the child's sweatshirt that says, "Be patient with me; God isn't finished with me yet"? That may well depict today's message: "Be patient," says the voice of Advent; "God isn't finished yet."

That may be a hard message to listen to in our day and age, especially during these Advent weeks that the world around us insists on counting down as "shopping days before Christmas." It isn't always easy to be told that we must be pilgrims, people on the move, when we are so comfortable right where we are.

Comfortable. That's the word that began today's Old Testament reading: "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God." (Isaiah 40:1) Those folks needed a word of comfort, and they welcomed it gladly, for they were obviously pilgrim people away from home, Israelites in exile, captives in the land of Babylon. For such people in such a situation, a sense of desired direction was obvious. They wanted to get home.

And so should we. That's the message of Advent. The color is blue – for heaven, for hope – a call to be pilgrim people, "not finished yet" but on the move, in a direction, people always aware that we are going home.

If you’re like me, you like to get very comfortable in bed. The other day, at 4:00 in the morning, I was awakened by an incessant beeping coming from Miriam’s room. It was her alarm clock. I don’t even know why she has an alarm – she can’t tell time yet and the alarm isn’t loud enough to wake her. Yet it woke me. In the dark, without my glasses, I pushed some buttons on the alarm. It shut off. I went back to bed. I was awakened an hour later by that same incessant beeping. I guess I didn’t push the right button. And in the dark, I didn’t know which other button to push, so I just pulled the plug out of the wall. I wasn’t quite ready to get up yet, but I was up, so it didn’t pay to lay down in bed and get comfortable again. So I got up, got ready, and got some work done.

We all like to be comfortable. That’s why flannel sheets, down pillows, recliners, sofas, and remote controls are so popular. We want to be comfortable. But there comes a time when we have to get up, get ready, and get some work done.

Becoming too comfortable in this world can be a huge problem. We enjoy that home, that salary, and good health. We enjoy our money, our vehicles, and our security. Enjoying them is fine. But being able to let them go is even better. If you arrived home today to learn that your house was burned down, then your boss called on your cell phone (because your other phone was melted) to let you know your position had been downsized, and then your doctor called (even though it’s Sunday) to inform you that you have an inoperable disease, would you still be comfortable? I hope not! Those are not your treasures. Your treasures are stored up in heaven for you. Fellow pilgrims, don’t become too attached to the things of this world. Sometimes God may allow the incessant beeping of illnesses, tragedies, and difficulties to remind us that we can’t get too comfortable. We need to get up and get ready.

Fellow pilgrims, also don’t become comfortable and complacent in your faith. During this busy time of the year (or really any time of the year) it is easy to become distracted from what is really important in life. You may be tempted to skip a Wednesday night worship service because you are putting up Christmas decorations. You may be tempted to stay home to prepare a family Christmas meal instead of worshiping your Savior on Christmas Day. You may be tempted to believe that you know enough to get you into heaven so you don’t have to attend Bible studies or read devotions or set aside time for meditation and prayer.

Fellow pilgrims, never allow yourselves to become comfortable with your sins. There are some who seem to think that they are capable of sinning in ways that will not threaten their salvation. However, every sin is a damnable sin. And every sin can quickly grow to give birth to another sin. Any sin can lead to other, more serious sins. Indulgence of our sinful nature spawns addiction and every other sin will surface.

Incidentally, the people to whom Peter was writing were also satisfied and comfortable in their present situation. That is why Peter, a latter-day John the Baptist, told them to "prepare the way for the Lord" by writing: "Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives ¹² as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. ¹³ But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness. ¹⁴ So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him."

Peter said we are to live "holy" lives. Holiness means to be different. John the Baptist was different, and it showed. Does your difference show? Is it evident that you are a Christian pilgrim? Do the people where you live – at home, at work, at school, where you socialize – do they know that you are going to heaven?

Live "godly" lives. Being "godly" has to do with reverence, bowing down before the Lord, living in an attitude of worship. After my brother-in-law’s tour in Iraq, he brought back an "authentic" Muslim prayer rug for us. "Authentic" meaning that it was actually made in China. Although the Muslims are worshiping the wrong god, they are very conscious in the reverence. Five times a day, no matter where they are or what they are doing, they will pause and face towards Mecca. Now that's different … and it involves a sense of direction, of not being there yet.

We are pilgrims, exiles, strangers in this world, we are waiting for our heavenly home to be prepared for us. While we are waiting, the Holy Spirit renews our minds making us holy and godly, cleansing us with Jesus’ blood, moving to transform us from sinful pleasures to pleasures in Christ. Greater pleasures come from listening to and serving our Lord. Sin’s pleasures are ugly, but life in Christ multiplies pleasure on into eternity.

As pilgrims we are to repent. John came preaching a message of repentance and forgiveness of sins. Even the word "repentance" carries with it the idea of movement. It means "to turn" – to get yourself in the right direction, in the way you should be moving. Every time you repent, as you did in the confession of sins this morning, you are facing God’s altar, his throne. You are humbly admitting your unworthiness as a sinner. You come before Christ’s cross and leave your iniquities, your trespasses and your transgressions there. Christ removes all those sinful burdens from your shoulders. Then he offers you forgiveness – forgiveness in the absolution announced at the beginning of the service, forgiveness announced individually as you partake of the Lord’s Supper this morning, forgiveness as you live life as a baptized and cleansed child of God. After all this, then you can turn and lift up your eyes to the heavens, prepared for Christ’s coming, his Advent. This repentance is all about movement – moving to the altar, moving to the cross, moving towards heaven.

Do you get the feeling that the Word of God is trying to tell us something this morning – something about not becoming too comfortable and forgetting? God is telling us that we are a pilgrim people, constantly on the move, living repentant lives of holiness and godliness "looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth. We are on the move toward heaven.

We are pilgrim people and all of today’s Scripture readings describe God as a "pilgrim God" – a God on the move. Even John's words alluded to this: "After me will come one more powerful than I." And we can be sure that he is coming because we have seen him come. That's what Christmas is all about, after all, God on the move – God taking on flesh and entering human history. Holy Week too, with the Palm Sunday procession at the beginning leading to the Way of the Cross at the end – God moving to rescue us from our apathy. Then Easter, the Lord on the move, coming out of the grave and giving life to all of us. And then Pentecost, the Spirit who comes in Word and Sacrament to baptize, to wash us from our sins (including the comfortable sin of complacency) and get us moving again.

"Be patient," says the little sweatshirt; "God isn't finished with me yet." The story isn't over yet. And that’s the point. We are people on the move – moving in repentance, moving in godliness and holiness, moving towards forgiveness, and moving towards heaven. We are pilgrim people. "God isn’t finished yet!" Amen.

And now may the peace of God that transcends all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.