A few weeks ago, Jeff and I spent a few days at Pine Mountain State Park Resort in southeast Kentucky, near the Tennessee border. It has been a while since we spent a few nights at a state park inn. We used to do that at least once a year when we lived in Indy, enjoying the outdoor benefits of the warmer-than-Minnesota winters.
We like to explore on foot. We enjoy hiking on the managed trails that are carefully curated by park rangers, offering opportunities to experience the flora and fauna of the region. They also offer challenging routes taking hikers up hills and down into valleys.
Hiking has been one of the most regular things we do whenever we travel. It is rare we go to someplace that does not provide an opportunity to walk and get a feel for the place, the people, the environment that builds and strengthens the community. Even when we went on our first cruise early this year, we found opportunities to walk when on land, and to wander the ship while at sea.
We walk a lot. It’s been a part of our relationship since we met at the first choir rehearsal at St. Paul’s in Winona back in 1983. We find that when we are moving our bodies, we talk together, pondering and sharing, dreaming and planning. Sometimes we help one another through something complicated we are experiencing, and other times we celebrate successes.
Jeff even gave me a reusable coupon earlier this year offering a walk to a restaurant of my choice, giving us both the time to walk the mile to the strip mall, time to eat without having to cook or clean up, time to pick up a couple of groceries to carry on the walk back. Intentional time for mutual appreciation, growth, with the side benefit of exercise.
When we were in the Pine Mountains, we were outside, exploring. We would go up and down on wet leaf-covered paths, uncertain of what was under the leaves—was it rocks, branches, water or mud? Sometimes we weren’t even sure we were on a path at all! We went from elevation to elevation, sometimes breathing hard and sweating. Other times maintaining a reasonable heartrate and a comfortable conversational pace.
There weren’t a lot of flat areas. The hills and valleys make for challenging and exhilarating hikes. They are often much more interesting than walking on a flat, “rails-to-trails” path. And they take a certain amount of physical endurance.
We heard today in both the first lesson and the Gospel about hills and valleys. If you are a fan of Handel’s Messiah, either time you heard those words you may have started singing them aloud or in your in your heart, “Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain be made low. The crooked straight and the rough places plain.”
Google images of the earth’s topography show us that God did not create a flat surface. God created a sphere where some places are higher and others lower. Where we have mountains that reach into the heavens, and places, like the bottoms of the oceans, that burrow deep into the surface of the earth. There are challenges in living or traveling in nearly every place on earth.
These are not things that easily change.
Yet in many places in scripture, as we heard in two places today, we hear Israelites claim that ultimately, God’s plan is to make the path smooth by lowering hills and mountains and raising up valleys. Just what does that mean?
We get clues throughout time. Today we get them, even if we don’t “get” them, at the beginning of the Gospel, where Luke lists names of men in political and religious power. It’s likely we have no idea who those men were or what impact they had on society at that time.
This is a common occurrence throughout scripture. Lists of names that, over time, begin to mean less and less, but matter more than we might realize. They serve as markers of harsh political and societal eras that help us understand why certain people are appointed by God to change the direction the Israelites are heading. Particularly when, over the course of time, it is the Israelites who are persecuted, enslaved, and murdered by non-Israelites. Consider, for example, the story of Moses.
The Jewish people, from the beginning of time, recognize that the way of the world is upside down. What they mean is that world leaders continue to elevate the value of some people as mattering more, while continually devaluing the value of others. We often use the word, marginalized, to help us understand the inequity of human dignity. The Jewish hope is that at some point in time, the world will turn right side up, and those who have been marginalized, or devalued, will matter.
The idea of making the mountains low, the valleys high and the rough places plain is how the Israelites understand a world that values human dignity, that identifies equity and makes the world easier for everyone to navigate.
This is what John comes out of the wilderness announcing—be prepared! The time is coming when the prophecies come true! Our lives are going to matter, just like those who have oppressed us. The Lord is coming to level the playing field so that we Israelites will no longer have to struggle to be valued.
The preparation comes, according to John, through baptism, an initiation rite that brings Gentiles into the fold. He encourages others whose lives have been marginalized, or who have been ridiculed, persecuted, enslaved, and shunned, to follow the God of his ancestors. To be initiated into his community. To turn away from, to repent, to ask forgiveness for any mistakes that have kept them away from his God. To be forgiven and join them. To be prepared: change is coming.
What a world it would be if there were equity. Not equality, mind you. But equity, where people of all abilities, resources, and education could access all that is available when living in community. Where staircases become ramps or empty lots become community gardens. Where the gifts each person brings from their individual contexts are honored. Where the color of skin or the language being spoken is celebrated and invited to build relationships across valleys.
These are the images the prophets are hoping we can see when they use what most of us can see or experience through nature. To imagine mountains flattened and valleys filled, so that the journey of life is less challenging, and it is easier for people to live, no matter what obstacles they face.
John is calling out hope to those who hear him. He is also calling out a challenge to the leaders of the day. Both are warnings that the world is about to change, and for some it has been a long time coming. For others, it announces that the revolution they fear is coming.
For us, it is a reminder that even though we know Jesus and know that he taught us what it means to love, what it means to respect the dignity of every human being, to stand up for justice, act with mercy, and offer kindness, the world has not embraced this kind of life.
We are called to continue following this path. It is not flat. We are going to walk up steep hills and try not to slip when carefully navigating the path down into the valleys. We are not always going to be confident of the routes and sometimes we might be frightened by the animals or weather we encounter. Our hearts may race, and our bodies may get tired, but if we stay on this path, continuing to “prepare the way of the Lord”, we will be part of the ultimate goal to turn the world right side up.
I mentioned when I arrived today that I wanted to make sure I had an ending to this sermon. Joe said I should just end it with, “And they lived happily ever after.” My response was that yes, that is exactly what God hopes for. That every proverbial valley be filled and that every mountain and hill be made low. Because when those rough places are smoothed out, we will be much closer to living lives that represent what it means to love God and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. And what a beloved happily ever after that could be.
Amen.
[1] Swanson, Richard. Provoking the Gospel of Luke. The Pilgrim Press, Cleveland. Page 67.
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