If you've seen the news at all, you know that Tennessee was recently hit with a historic winter storm.
When it all began, we were returning from a Youth Ski Trip in West Virginia I'd been preaching at. On the drive up, the roads were barren, conditions perfect, and the path straightforward.
On the way back? Not so much.
Conditions became hazardous rapidly. Thick snow blanketed the interstate. Cars found new residence in ditches and our own vehicle didn't make it very far without incurring damage.
Before we knew it, our 6 hour trip turned into 14 and we left our car in another town, piloting a rented minivan through the new Tennessee tundra.
It was supposed to be a straight path home but it was soon a bumpy, exhausting, and complicated one.
Making Straight Paths
Mark's Gospel opens with mention of another path.
Quoting Isaiah, he writes "Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight."
Speaking of John the Baptist, Mark tells us his mission was simple. To prepare the hearts and minds of Israel to receive their Messiah. To "make his paths straight."
When Jesus enters the scene, John wants his divine cousing to have a straight path into their hearts.
No bumps in the road, no hazards in the way. Just a clear path to reception, worship, and communion with their savior.
More like our drive to West Virginia. Far less like our drive from West Virginia.
But the problem of John's day was similar to the problem of our day.
We don't like giving Jesus a straight path.
Instead of carving out a lane for the Son of God to come near, we put up every obstacle we can find in our way.
Comfort.
Netflix.
Money.
Work.
Family.
Bitterness.
Anger.
Pride.
Chores.
The list could take up an entire dictionary.
Like a pinball machine, we hope Jesus will bounce off our attempts to communion because we're afraid of slowing down and facing him. We're afraid of letting go of the little things that make us feel secure.
We don't want to make Jesus' paths straight, we'd prefer them to wind around, taking us past our favorite pastimes and coddling our insecurities.
Carve a path
As we enter into the second day of Lent, I’d like to challenge us to carve a path to communion with Jesus.
To set aside whatever could be getting in the way and press into the lover of our souls. To take the advice of John the Baptist and “make his paths straight.”
Are you in?
P.S. I know this is my first newsletter in awhile. In fact, it’s the longest I’ve gone without writing a CrossTalk in 2+ years. After a roller coaster start to 2024, we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Good word