Weddings are accidents waiting to happen. Despite our best efforts at planning the big day, something, it seems, almost always goes wrong. On what many consider the most important moment of their lives.

To delve into this wedding calamities hypothesis further I asked Facebook friends – including many of you – to share their most memorable snafu stories from their own special days.

Responses from this calamities query came pouring in, 26 people openly told their tales of what wasn’t quite right at their wedding. Some have a certain wow factor, others are downright funny. Here’s a short selection.

Sometimes wedding day accidents happen before the service even begins.

Friend Heather remembers waking up the morning of her wedding with one bridesmaid covered in hives. And another bridesmaid unexpectedly needed to take her boyfriend to the ER. With the help of some Benadryl the hives went away, but she still needed to find a new bridesmaid. Amazingly one of her good friends was attending the wedding stag, fit in the dress just fine. She made for a great last-minute replacement.

At Rich’s wedding the two limos left the bride-to-be’s house at the same time. And each thought the other car had the bride and her dad. When the limos arrived at church they realized their mistake. A classic case of being left behind.

Priscilla, an occasional church organist, recalls a wedding she once played for. Right before the wedding she found the bride, in the Pastor’s office, drink orange soda, smoking. When Priscilla asked if it’d be ok to start the prelude with a some Handel and a bit of Bach, the bride waved her hand over the exhaled smoke and said yeah, go for it, that’s cool.

Now that’s what I call a smoking bride.

Other times the wedding drama happens in the service itself.

Seminary friend Kari Lee remembers kneeling at the altar, alongside her husband, as a friend sang the Lord’s Prayer. As he sings “thy will be done” a huge clap of thunder hits, rattling the church windows. Kari says it was pretty intense. And that everyone there laughed. If that were me that night I’d be locking the doors extra tight.

Linda, our church Database Coordinator, recalls that half the people at her sister’s wedding had the stomach flu – including the groom. Things got so bad the groom had to run out in the middle of the ceremony to take care of business. That was an accident waiting to happen the groom was happy that didn’t ?

Then there’s Dan and Diane Hinderaker who gave communion to everyone there, but themselves. No worries, you two, I forget that part all the time too.

Chew on this one – both of your pastors here, Bryan and I, had difficulty getting our unity candles to light during our weddings. That’s where both bride and groom light separate candles, and then lean into light one, larger unity candle, symbolizing how the two become one. Mine and Kathi’s lit after a few minutes, Bryan and Trish’s never did. Make of that what you will. Tho by all accounts both our marriages seem to be going just fine ?

Some wedding accidents happen after the service while driving to the reception.

Friends Jeff and Jen pulled off the road to take the balloons and streamers off of their car. Which makes it a lot easier to see while driving. But while doing that Jen’s grandmother’s wedding ring fell off, and she didn’t realize it until arriving at the reception. Jen was hysterical at the thought of losing a family heirloom. So Jeff hurriedly drove back to look for it, some friends drove by and they too offered to help search. The ring was found, to their great relief, in the parking lot, hours later at 10:30pm.

Lisa Ailshie, our Communications Manager, got married at St. Cecelia, which is right down the road. She recalls leaving the church only to be greeted by the sight of a car on fire in the parking lot. Imagine. After things settled down some they drove to their reception, leaving behind firetrucks and flames. What an exit!

Kirsten tells a similar story. She and husband Peter had rented an early 1900s Model T to take them from the ceremony to the reception, a really cool touch. It was cool until the almost century-old vehicle caught on fire. She thought everyone was waving because they were so happy for the newlyweds. Nope – they were trying to alert them about the smoke.

All of which makes me wonder if, for weddings, perhaps we should just revert back to a good old horse and carriage ?

And of course many of the most memorable accidents and oopsies occur at the reception.

Angela arrived at her reception venue only to find the DJ wasn’t there. Quickly a new plan was hatched. The pastor officiating the wedding stepped in to MC. The hotel loaned their sound system. Guests loaned their laptops and iPods and scrambled to put some tunes together. No one had the wedding song on their devices so a hotel employee went to buy the CD. What began as a big problem ended up pretty well.

Even when your DJ does show, sometimes they screw up and introduce the couple using the wrong names. “Let’s make some noise for the new Mr. and Mrs. Smith: Riku and Valerie” is pretty funny then the bride’s name is Veronica. Especially when her sister, who was there, is named Valerie. Oops!

Or maybe you can relate to Lori Woodcock. She got up to go to the bathroom and her sister ate her piece of cake. On top of that the cake was cut wrong so there wasn’t any left. She didn’t get any of the cake at her own wedding! Ask her about it some time, from what I gather it still makes her blood boil.

Shortage
I’ve got one more wedding story accident; it’s from John 2:1-11.

Here we find Jesus, his mother, and the disciples at a wedding reception. Wedding celebrations in those days were a huge community event. So big they were measured not in hours but in days. Seven days to be precise. Imagine all the planning and coordination it would take to pull *that* event off well.

Yet despite all the planning, go figure, something here too went wrong.

Three days in, to a seven-day party, the wine suddenly runs out.

Unlike our modern times, you couldn’t just send someone down to the local Cyclone Liquors to get more.
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How short were they? There were six empty jars there, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. That adds up to somewhere between 120 and 180 gallons of wine, or up to 1,000 bottles. Good luck sourcing that much in a pinch.

Perhaps this oversight was a sign someone dropped the ball. Perhaps it was a sign the party was over. Perhaps it was time to head home.

And perhaps there would be some shame, for the family that planned this wedding. The guests there just might talk about the reception that got cut short for years and years to come. Perhaps.

Abundance
Mary, the mother of Jesus, saw these impending possibilities, and asked her son to take action. Jesus, whose ministry hadn’t yet begun, initially defers. But mom presses on, asking the servants there to do whatever he tells them. It’s mother Mary, pushing her son out of the nest, knowing that it’s time for her son’s ministry to take flight.

Jesus then directs the servants to fill those empty jars with water. He then does his thing with that water, miraculously turning it to wine.

Accident averted. Celebrations continue.

But there’s more to this story. The wine steward, or sommelier comes over to taste the wine. That’s their job, they’re the experts. They taste to ensure it is good enough for the particular occasion at hand.

After tasting this newly made wine the sommelier makes a discovery. Not only is the wine acceptable, but it’s the good stuff. Normally the good wine is served first, with the meh wine to follow. But that’s not how Jesus operates. With Jesus you always get the best.

This scripture passage is just one more example of that.

Joy
Scripture is pretty clear about the ills of drunkenness, it’s possible to have too much of a good thing. In our modern era, over time, this can evolve into the disease of alcoholism. This disease is common, impacting more than three million people a year in the US alone. It’s safe to conclude most everyone here has a close friend, family member or loved one that is affected.

Yet scripture is filled with stories of wine being used in healthy, joy-filled, sacred celebrations. Wine was a central part of many community gatherings in scriptural times. And it continues to be a part of many of our gatherings today. Before Jesus made the lame walk, or the blind see, or raised the dead, his first recorded miracle, in the book of John, is this one. Of turning water into wine.

And each week here we commemorate the Lord’s supper, eating of bread, drinking of the wine. In that we celebrate the life, death and resurrection of Christ.

We live in this tension, of sorts, holding the ills of alcohol in one hand, and the communal benefits, and the celebrations it is connected to, in the other.

All this leads me to conclude that the John text really isn’t about the wine. It’s about Jesus’s role in turning individual accidents, shame, judgment, and conflict, into communal joy.

• It’s about making sure Angela’s wedding had a DJ after all, so that sacred party could continue.
• It’s about Lori getting that piece of wedding cake on her big day, making sure everyone gathered there has enough to eat.
• It’s about lost wedding rings being found.
• It’s about car fires being extinguished.
• And it’s about encouraging the unity, of two people, being joined together in holy matrimony, whether those big unity candles get lit or not.

Close
Just like a wedding celebration, life, too, is an accident waiting to happen. Despite our best efforts at planning for our careers, our finances, our families, something, it seems, almost always goes wrong.

In those moments let us remember that our Lord once attended a wedding feast. And, in performing a great miracle there, He said yes, to gladness. Yes, to joy.

God does not want our religion to be too holy to be happy in.

So let us take a cue from Christ, allowing ourselves to be filled with joy.

Let us sing, and dance, and be merry, right alongside God’s children.

Then let us raise a glass of the good stuff.

And let us toast. Let us toast a Savior who provides, and wants nothing less than the very best, for us all. Cheers, my friends.  Amen.

A talking animal prequel to Donkey Tales, to commemorate the baptism of Jesus.  Based on Luke 3:15-17,21-22, as told by a winged reporter at the scene.

Expectations and Eccentricities
The day started out normally enough. I woke up, kissed my wife and kids goodbye, and flew out of our family nest in search of some food. We doves like seeds and an occasional bit of fruit. A diet like this, with no meat, is how I keep this remarkable birdy physique.

Just as I left for the morning commute, lo and beyond, what did I see, but a multitude of people gathered by the river! Humans fascinate me, they always seem to be up to something, always organizing, always doing. Besides, humans are expert gatherers, with access to the best seeds and fruits this particular dove has ever tasted. With a little luck perhaps I could pilfer some without much effort. Then I could get back to the family nest early and play with the kids.

As I flew in for a better view it became clear that this was no normal gathering. The people there that day were talking excitedly, filled with expectation of what could be. They surrounded one man, in particular, who looked like no other I’ve seen.

He wore a robe made of camel hair, how scratchy! Camel coats just aren’t in style for humans these days, and for good reason. This feathery coat I wear is much more comfortable. My wife just preened it up for me this morning.

And his beard, my goodness. It didn’t look like anyone had ever given it a trim. It was totally unkempt. Maybe he’d been living in the wilderness. My wife would never let me leave the nest looking like that.

Even weirder was what was in John’s lunch sack. There was no bread, no wine, no fish. Worst of all there were no seeds, no fruit. Instead he munched on locusts. In a pinch we birds might try that, tho it isn’t exactly enticing. Next to that was some honeycomb. From the looks of it he’d plucked right off a tree. I’m not pilfering my lunch from this guy, that’s for sure. Yuck!

But the people there seemed drawn to this character, they called him John. Perhaps they were attracted to his eccentric ways. Some in the crowd murmured to themselves that John could be the Messiah. He could be there to usher in God’s kingdom on earth. But John was shaking his head, and waving his hands no, he wanted nothing to do with that title.

A New Baptism
John explained to the crowd that he baptized with water, but someone much more powerful was coming. Someone that could baptize with fire. And that someone that could baptize with the Holy Spirit. Now I don’t know much about fire – we birds try to avoid it.

But I can tell you plenty about the Holy Spirit.

Some humans already know this, you might – the Holy Spirit can be experienced by another primal element: wind. Sometimes it’s a gentle breeze, cooling you down when you need it most. Other times it’s a gust of wind, getting your attention when danger is near.

Often, at least for we birds, the Holy Spirit is in the wind currents. She helps us get from one place to the next. She lightens our load. That’s provided we choose to travel with that holy flighted path. Flying against those airy currents is always harder, always so tiring.

Heck, I rode the wind waves this morning, it’s how I found this gathering of people. Perhaps that was just the Holy Spirit doing her thing, once again, guiding me to this very spot.

Anyhow, back to John.

John then said that he wouldn’t even be worthy to untie the sandals of this new Messiah that was coming. Imagine, John has people lining up to be baptized, they practically worship him. And John isn’t worthy to touch what this new guy wears on his feet?

That’s setting up some really, really high expectations.

Baptism for All
John then baptized, by water, all gathered that day. And I mean all, every single person there hopped into the river. There was no sense of who is and isn’t worthy to be baptized. All were invited to be immersed in God’s cleansing waters. Tears of joy were shed, faces lit up with smiles, conversations warmed.

Forgiveness, among the people, was in the air.

It was a holy scene. And it was beautiful.

The Call
Something magical then happened, a moment I’ll never forget.

The heavens opened up, and I felt a rush of air from above, guiding me downward to earth. I noticed the other birds in the air didn’t seem to be affected, that’s kind of odd. And then it hit me: this air current I found myself drawn to follow was divine! The Holy Spirit was guiding me, to God knows where.

I have to admit, when the Spirit whispered she needed me, for a very big job, I began to doubt. I mean really, we doves aren’t that impressive, we’re only 15 inches or so long. That’s about the size of a bowling pin. Look how easily they get knocked around.

Why didn’t God choose a larger, grander bird? Like a bald eagle? Eagles are a
symbol of strength. They’re great predators. They’re so much bigger, so much more magnificent than we doves. Heck, they can pluck fish right out of the ocean, with their sharp talons. And they even feast on smaller birds. Sometimes even birds my size. Yikes!

We doves are known for our short legs, short bills and small heads, all packed onto an outsized, compact body. In the bird world these aren’t exactly leading actor qualities.
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But the Holy Spirit shared with me that I’ve got some really desirable features for this particular mission.

God isn’t looking for hunting skills like those eagles have, the Spirit suggested. God likes to use those that can gather, together, and do so peacefully. As I scanned the skyline I saw other doves everywhere, finding seeds, and fruit, for themselves, for their families. They gathered these gifts, peacefully, pilfering from humans. Sorry about that, humans. You may not always approve, especially when it’s your lunch. But no one ever gets hurt. It’s not our way.

And doves are among the strongest fliers in all the world, she mentioned. That’s right! I was beginning to feel a bit better about the whole thing.

Even more the Spirit reminded me that doves can be found most everywhere on earth. We thrive in the highest of mountains, and the lowest of valleys. We excel in climates fiery hot, and icy cold. And we can get to tiny, isolated islands across the vastness of seas and oceans. We doves are all over the place. Those strong flying skills do come in handy. My confidence continued to grow.

We need your kind, the Spirit assured me, to help spread God’s love to the farthest reaches of this planet. Besides, she exclaimed, you doves are already there!

I now realized what I needed to do. This mission, from God, was to be my call. I wasn’t going to fight *that* divine flight path.

So I followed the air currents downward, curious as to where they might lead.

It was then, while on this sacred path, I saw a man in the distance.

The Man, The Voice
The man was set off from the others, away from all the excitement surrounding John. While everyone else stood, he kneeled. While everyone else talked amongst themselves, he prayed, quietly, head raised to the heavens. Most in the crowd gathered that day then lifted their heads, watching my descent to earth.

But this man, the people called him Jesus, he looked beyond me. He was focused not on me, but where I had come from.

I realized I was being drawn this man Jesus. I was there to mark a specific person, and a specific moment, clearly, for all to see. As I landed on his shoulder he seemed unsurprised. But me? I suddenly felt awash in peace. And blanketed in pure love.

The people then shifted their gaze from this particular dove to the holy man I shared space with.

I suppose that had been the plan all along.

It was then I heard a deep rumbling, a voice echoing out from the heavens. “You are my Son, the Beloved”, the voice said. This speech could have only come from the One who had created it all.

“With you,” the voice continued, “I am well pleased.”

I knew, in that moment, that this man, Jesus, was the Son of God. The looks on the human faces there suggests others were beginning to understand too.

It turned out there was plenty of food for my family that day. When Jesus and the disciples show up no one ever goes hungry. As I headed back to the family nest to share the bounty I couldn’t wait to tell this exciting story with anyone willing to listen. So many years later this tale still gives me goosebumps. Tho, in our language at least, we birds just call them, well, bumps ?

Close
Looking back I realize the importance of what took place that day. It was the launch of Jesus’ ministry here on earth. And that’s a pretty big deal. You know many of the Jesus stories that follow this one, they’re filled with all sorts of amazing surprises.

My dovey kind can be seen, either IRL (that’s in real life) or via image all over. You’ll notice doves at baptisms, and confirmations, at weddings, in prayers and blessings, and during funerals too.

What we bring with us is really something.  We symbolize the peace available, through Christ, during all the stages of this life, and beyond. So when you see us doves –

Be reminded of God’s claim on your life, through the waters of your baptism. You too, are a beloved child of God.

Remember that the love and peace of God was made possible by the life, death and resurrection of Christ. Recognize this. Celebrate this.

And please know, my grounded, biped friends, that, just like we doves, you too have a call. You’ve been called to share Christ’s peace, and love, the whole world round.

So catch the Spirit’s winds, as I did that day. Those winds point away from the broken violence of the world. Share the love of Christ, guided by a path of peace. And then share the love our Creator has, for each of you, with all you encounter, today, tomorrow, and forever. Amen.

A little over a decade ago Kathi and I decided, after six years of dating, and five years of marriage, that we’d like to start a family. We’d earned our college degrees, had decent paying jobs, owned our home, and had paid down our debts. Practically speaking we were ready to get pregnant.

Besides, we’d already tested our parenting skills on two unsuspecting canine kids, Salsa and Chips. Our 10-pound terriers seemed fairly well adjusted, they ran and played and ate and drank and cuddled on the couch just fine. Heck, after growing up a bit they even stopped peeing on our floors. We were really happy about that. We took this success as a good sign house-training human kids just might be in our wheelhouse too.

Planning
So we decided to start trying. As with many couples getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as we’d assumed. It took a couple of years, a couple of miscarriages, and the help of a fertility clinic before our pregnancy planets aligned.

To help stack the deck we meticulously followed the doctor-ordered prenatal schedule, making sure we adhered to their medical wisdom as best we could.

We read and studied the book it seems everyone gets these days, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. We researched what baby items to buy, combed through product reviews, figured out what to purchase new, and what to buy gently used.

We nicknamed our in utero firstborn “Bean”, a reference to her size at six weeks. We excitedly designed the nursery. My home office transformed: out with the desk, computer and video game calendars, in with the crib, stuffed animals and changing table. Not wanting to know gender we painted Bean’s room the color of Cantaloupe, and settled on a Winnie the Pooh motif.

The go-bag, the hospital, the doctor, the birthing plan – natural, no meds – we precisely defined it all. Kathi is crazy tough, her pain tolerance infinitely more than mine. Which probably explains her ability to put up with yours truly. A story for another time ?
But for all our planning Bean’s birth didn’t go as expected.

Fear and Joy
At 40 weeks the doctor encouraged us to check into the hospital that night. Even more, our doctor was heading out on vacation, we learned, leaving her todos to someone we barely knew. After an overnight of intense pain, and no sleep, Kathi opted for pain meds. We soon found out why – a medical complication forced us to forgo natural childbirth. I watched as Kathi was carted off for an emergency C-section, and found myself worrying about what would happen to my wife and our unborn child.

Birthing plans now dashed, our hopes, dreams, and fears – especially our fears at this point – were all now in the hands of another. I’ve never been as excited, or as terrified, as in those minutes spent waiting to hear the fate of the two people on this planet I loved the most.

This story has a happy ending, really more of a happy beginning. Hannah joined our family the morning of March 10, 2010, full of life and health. As I first held her, looking down at that tiny, peaceful face, and over at my exhausted yet joy-filled wife, I realized something.

None of the planning for how we imagined that day would unfold really mattered. The fears, anxieties and worry that had consumed us were suddenly gone.

What mattered most was sleeping in my arms.

I share this story, of our first child, not because it’s anything special, but because it’s downright normal. The planning, the fears, the joys, it’s all part and parcel of how parents go about welcoming a child into the world.

This next pregnancy story is decidedly abnormal, for so many reasons, and in so many ways.

Gabriel
Mary was between 12 and 14 years old when the angel Gabriel came to visit. This is young by today’s standards; 2,000 years ago it was fairly typical. There simply isn’t much time for planning when your entire lifespan is a dozen years. I’ve got a sweatshirt that’s older than that.

The conversation Gabriel had with Mary that day ended up being the start of the greatest pregnancy story ever told. Their conversation went something like this –

“Guess what Mary,” Gabriel began, “I’ve got some news. Big news, from the big Guy upstairs: you’re with child.”

“No worries,” Gabriel continued, “it’s a boy, and you don’t even have to come up with a name. Call him Jesus.”

“Even better, the Almighty has hand-picked your first-born’s job. Your child is the Son of God. Your child is destined to be King.”

“Yes, Mary, I know you and Joseph haven’t been screwing around before tying the knot.” The Holy Spirit will take care of those particulars, Gabriel told her. Trust me.

“I realize all this sounds absurd Mary, but check this out, your cousin Elizabeth is preggers too! I know, she’s 88 years old, so crazy! With God anything is possible.”

And with that the angel Gabriel departed, leaving Mary alone.

Elizabeth
Mary, being the sensible type, decided to check this story out, and went with haste to visit cousin Elizabeth. Their conversation went something like this –

“Elizabeth, whoa are you showing! Six months along now is it? You’re not going to believe this, but an angel came and told me you were!”

“Wait what? An angel came to your hubby too? And the angel said that you’d get pregnant too? And they said your kid would become a great prophet of God?”
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“I’m pregnant! And the Holy Spirit is the father!”

“I can’t believe we’re both pregnant!”

“And angels! Your child a prophet, mine the Son of God!”

Scripture says at this point Elizabeth’s child leaped in her womb with excitement.

This was the first meeting of John the Baptist and Jesus, with the two sharing an in utero virtual high five.

Elated with all this news Elizabeth blessed Mary, then blessed the Christ-child she carried, and finally blessed the faith Mary had in believing this heavenly news.

I like to think the women, both unexpectedly pregnant, both full of joy, sat down and talked and laughed and wondered at the magnitude of it all.

The Song
Mary then did something that could have come right out of a Hollywood script. Did she lament that life wasn’t going according to her plan? Did she worry about what could go wrong with the pregnancy? Did she obsess on what color to paint the nursery? Nope. None of the above. Overwhelmed by joy she proceeded to burst into song.

• She sang, magnifying the Mighty One, who had looked on her with great favor.
• She sang, to worship a God who brings down the powerful, and brings up the lowly.
• She sang, praising a God that fills the stomachs of the hungry, and sends the rich away empty handed.
• Mary sang, recognizing that she, a young, poor, unwed, pregnant woman was as much a part of this blessing as anyone else.
• And she sang, most of all, to glorify a God who keeps the promises made to God’s people. She sang, knowing the child in her womb would be the fulfillment of that promise; a King who would right wrongs, a Ruler that walks alongside humanity, a Deity offering nothing less than salvation.

For Mary knew, that when this child of hers was born, the world would never be the same.

Compare
Pregnancy. It’s a beautiful thing; I look back on the time of waiting and anticipation for both our children fondly. All the potential that is to be, all the hopes not yet realized, it’s downright magical.

At the same time, the doing part of pregnancy can be downright draining. All the birth-planning, nursery making, doctor visiting, baby showering stuff can make for a busy, stressful nine months. And let’s be honest, being the guy in this equation tells but a small part of the story. Hearing from mothers about their pregnancy stories is really where it’s at.

WWMD
As we look to the birth of the Christ child in a few short days, I ask you to spend this season of anticipation like Mary. Consider this your WWMD: What Would Mary Do?

Listen to the angels. They speak blessings to us in ways great and small.

Then spend time with loved ones. Share stories of how you have been so richly blessed by our maker. The gift of presence will always surpass the gift of presents. The sharing of your time is the best gift of all.

And don’t forget to celebrate the upcoming birth with joy, with laughter, and with song. Let this miraculous birth warm your hearts for not just a day or a season, but for a lifetime.

Close
Are you ready for Christmas? The query is typically tied to the doing of preparations – aka have the gifts been purchased? The Christmas cards sent? The holiday meal prepared? How you answer signals your ability to navigate the gauntlet of cultural Christmas challenges. But these challenges often leave us stressed-out, exhausted, and flat out broke.

Today’s text begs us to consider the question in a new light.

Are you ready for Christmas? Are you ready to celebrate the goodness of God? Are you ready to spend time with loved ones, sharing with them how you have been so incredibly blessed? Are you ready to talk and laugh and sing, all in praise to our Creator? Are you ready to make room for the Christ child that will soon be here?

As the saying goes we make plans and God laughs. Instead, try this on for size.

God makes plans – good plans, Christ-child plans – and we rejoice.

Are you ready for Christmas? May it be so. Amen.

Google maps has this great feature that tells you how to get from one place to another via all sorts of transportation options. Just click on the icon that represents that mode of travel and the screen updates with trip distance, directions and time it’ll take update automatically.

Take, for example, getting from here, in Ames Iowa, to one of my favorite spots on earth, San Francisco California.

According to Google here are times and distances it’ll take you to arrive:

Travel by plane is the fastest, of course, both in time and distance. A flight from Des Moines to San Fran is about 1,550 miles as the crow flies. It can be done in as little as five hours and fifteen minutes with a one-stop flight. If a non-stop flight were available it’d cut that by at least 90 minutes. And the flight isn’t even that spendy – shop around some and a round trip can be yours for under $300.

Or you could simply drive. From here to San Fran by car is a smidge over 1,800 miles, and would take you about 27 hours of drivetime.

Or perhaps you’re more of a train person. I find that mode of transport rather relaxing. The Amtrak California Zephyr line goes from Chicago to San Fran. Hop on the train in Des Moines and you can take a relaxing 2,080 mile trip by rail. That’ll take you a little over 2 days; 49 hours and 51 minutes to be more precise.

Up for a long bike ride? Those same 1,800 road miles can be done in a little over six and a half days. But only if you don’t sleep.

Or perhaps you’re up for a really, really long walk? Those miles, walking, would take about 25 days with no breaks or sleep. Good luck with that ?

Wilderness
The first six verses of Luke 3 is also about getting from one place to another. It’s a long distance our text refers to, a wide chasm to cross. And the time it takes can be measured not in days or even weeks or years, but in millennia.

The distance we’re talking about is what stood between God and God’s people in biblical times. Up until this point the relationship between Creator and us, the designated caretakers of Creation, had been rocky at best.

Original sin cast Adam and Eve from that first utopian garden, into the wilderness of the world.

The Israelites, after fleeing Egypt, found themselves wandering in the wilderness, for 40 years, before reaching the Promised Land.

And in Jesus’ time the Jewish people, a minority in both ethnicity and religion, found themselves surrounded by the wilderness of a sprawling Roman Empire.

It was time, God said, for God’s people to be saved from their wilderness.

And to help prepare for that takes a special kind of person. Enter John the Baptist.

John, scripture says, was a bit of a wild child. Matthew 3:4 tells us he wore clothing made of camel hair and ate locusts and wild honey. Clothing for Jesus and the disciples was never mentioned specifically in scripture, making this outfit stand out. A diet of locusts and wild honey suggests that John wasn’t overly concerned with societal norms of the time either. God provided him food and clothing, plucked straight from the land.

John, the wild one in the wilderness, prepared the way for the Christ-child to join us here on earth. He did this in a very specific way, by proclaiming the forgiveness of sins for those who repent.

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Prepare the way of the Lord,
Make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

Looking at this passage with modern eyes much of this seems like perhaps not that big of a deal. We make straight paths, fill valleys, flatten mountains and make rough ways smooth all the time.

Highways
The US Interstate System, begun in 1956, and championed by President Eisenhower, was created with this very goal in mind.  The system has been called the greatest public works project in history; many of us use the roads this project completed daily.  My father-in-law, born in 1940, likes to tell of the car trips he’d take as a kid with his parents in the late 1940s and early 50s. Each year his family would drive from Chicago to the Florida Keys after closing up the family garden center for the year. Back then, before the interstate highway system, the trip would take a week. The route they travailed often required you to drive through one small downtown to the next, hitting countless streetlights and stop signs on the way.

These days, that 1,400 mile trip from Chicago to Key Largo Florida takes about 20 hours.

That’s just two days of driving 10 hours a day, plenty of time for rest stops, meals, refueling, and an overnight hotel stay complete with 8 hours of sleep.

All this, because, as a people, we decided to make straight paths, fill valleys, flatten mountains and make rough ways smooth. As a first world people we have become experts in our path-making and path-perfecting ways, and our commerce and economy and way of life are arguably better for it. We can move from point A to point B faster and cheaper than ever before. We have, at least as much as we desire, made our way out of the physical wilderness of our lands.

But what if the wilderness we find ourselves in is a matter of the heart? What if no plane, train or automobile is available to deliver to us what we so desperately need? What if all our technological advances leave us in the same place we started? Places longing for community, searching for meaning, desiring healing for our brokenness?

In those moments making straight the path begins not with a shovel or dynamite or the laying of asphalt. Instead salvation from the wilderness of the heart begins within. And, similar to the planning it took to achieve the Interstate highway system, wrestling with the wilderness of our heart requires that we set some goals.

Prepare
This Advent, as we prepare for the coming of the Christ child in two short weeks –

Fill the valleys of the wilderness of seasonal stress by carving out time with your maker. Do this with reflection, meditation, and prayer.

Flatten the mountains that separate you from divine wisdom. Do this by reading ancient scripture. Even better than Google, the Bible has this great feature that tells you how to get from one place to another, and through all sorts of wildernesses. Just open to a different book, chapter and verse and you’ll receive useful, constant updates, automatically, guaranteed.

And then make rough ways smooth by reaching out to others, seeking to mend broken relationships among all you know. Don’t settle for a wilderness of individual, family and communal lethargy, as easy as that may be. Instead strive for peace with each of God’s beloved.

Because ultimately it’s not about paving roads through the wilderness, as important as that work can be. It’s about preparing the way, within us, and within others. It’s about preparing for the salvation of God, though a child in a manger, making smooth *that* path, for all.  Amen.