One of the many unanswered questions in the Bible is-- why did John baptize Jesus? If our understanding of baptism is that it puts us on the path of a right relationship with God, then why did Jesus who was already in relationship with God, go and get baptized? When we compare the four gospel’s accounts of Jesus’ baptism, the writers discomfort with this act by John is glaring. Matthew elaborates on the account we just heard in Mark by adding that John tried to talk Jesus out of it. Luke-- will not even come out and say John did it. And the gospel of John bears witness to the Spirit descending like a dove upon Jesus, but says nothing about the baptism.

So we are left to wonder why does Jesus begin his ministry by asking John to baptized him? Did Jesus wake up one morning and say to himself, Ok today’s the day! I’m gonna do it! Or, had he been planning this for months, perhaps finishing up carpentry jobs, teaching his craft to younger brothers, doing everything he could to leave his mother and brothers a little ahead in the survival game played in occupied Palestine. Or maybe a still small voice was just so relentlessly persistent it finally wore him down and he could no longer resist it.

Whatever the reason for leaving his family back in Nazareth and being baptized by John in the Jordan, this was a turning point for Jesus setting him on his ministry. And in Mark’s usual succinct and to the point way of writing we learn Jesus experiences what we all experience in going through the four stage transition process: (1) leaving, (2) taking a decisive step towards a new direction, (3) spending time in a wilderness of ambiguity trying to figure and live into the new and finally (4) coming out into a new way of living and being. I find it more than coincidental that the gospel text appointed for this first Sunday in Lent shows us what we here at First Moravian will experience as we move through the transition from one called pastor to another.

Each of us, from toddlers on up to retired folks experience what Mark’s gospel describes this morning. Whether we’ve left one job and started another: finished at one school and started at a new school: moved from one city to another city, one home to a new home. Whenever we leave an old way of living and moving towards a new but still unknown different new life, there is a wilderness time of ambiguity between leaving the old and settling comfortably in the new.

You know you can’t go back to the way things were. Whether we like it or not the decision’s been made. And, like Jesus, we are extra alert for signs confirming this is the right. Sure the heavens don’t open up and a Spirit doesn’t descend on us like a dove, but like Jesus we are on the lookout for signs that we did the right thing and it will work out. Think back in your life when you moved through a major transition. It may have been job related, or going off to college, or going off to Camp or school for the first time. Maybe you had to leave well-loved family and friends so a parent or your spouse could take a better job or go back to school. Remember how you felt?

Excited? You just couldn’t wait! You counted the days until you could go and begin. Or, apprehensive, not quite sure, but knowing this was something you had to do.

Whatever the reason or the event, all of us have experienced the kind of major transition Mark is talking about here with Jesus. Transitions where we separate from the old, spend time in an unfamiliar limbo, our own wilderness with temptations and wild beasts, and then, and then discovering new life on the other side of the process.Experience tells us leaving the old and risking the new is only the beginning of the transition process.

When Emory University accepted my college application, I felt some of that pat on the back from family and teachers—“You are beloved and we are well pleased with you.” (Even if we now have to figure out how to pay for it).

But going from an all girls Catholic high school into the academic rigor and the geographical and cultural diversity of a University with all that college life entails, was like being in the wilderness, tempted by Satan, living among wild beasts, and needing the presence of a guardian angel a time or two. I missed my old friends and family. I missed Memphis bar b que and my favorite radio station. I had lost people and things I took for granted . And I wasn’t too sure about my funny talking New Jersey roommate who ate bread doughnuts with fishy smelling cream cheese for breakfast.

Times of transitioning from the old to the new are wilderness times when we become disoriented. What we had is no longer there. What we thought, is no longer true. We are in unfamiliar territory trying to find our way giving up old patterns that no longer work, and trying out new things. We do not know what life will be like on the other side of the wilderness and we don’t know how long it will take us to get there, although we may think we do.

Our patterns of daily living and relationships we have are strong and sometimes we don’t realize how strong they are, until we leave them behind.

In the weeks and months to come you may find yourself appreciating and missing the ministry of David and Marianne Fischler in ways you can’t imagine right now. And that’s a good thing! For it will help us in determining the characteristics First Moravian needs in the next called pastor. If you find you want to talk about whatever it is you are feeling from David and Marianne’s leaving here, I’m here to listen. Whatever those feelings are, and they may range the emotional gamut from grief and deep sadness to relief and elation depending on the context. I am here to help you deal with those feelings so that your feelings do not become a “wild beast” waiting to bite the next called pastor.

We 21st century Christians associate the word wilderness with being an unfamiliar desolate and lonely place, a scary place where wild beasts abound. But to the early hearer’s of Mark’s gospel the wilderness is a place where God is especially present. Unlike us, their first thought when they hear the word wilderness is remembering God’s providential care for their ancestors through 40 years of wandering in the desert. They know, and it is something I hope you will remember if you take nothing else away from today’s message--- and that is God is especially close to us in wilderness times. In transitions times. When the way is uncertain and unfamiliar this is the time for us to be more available to hearing God’s voice, so that we can be made new.

In a few moments we will join together with Christ in the sacrament of Holy Communion—another time and place where Jesus has promised to be present among us. As you receive the bread and wine let us remember we are joined together as the Body of Christ with Jesus as our head and chief elder, Following his leading us in our vision of being United in Christ, reaching out in love and transforming lives.

Together in this wilderness time we will reacquaint ourselves with how Jesus has loved this congregation and led you in the past, so we can discern where he is leading us now. So that at the end of this interim when we leave the wilderness, together we will proclaim the good news of God: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news."

Let us pray:
Gracious and loving God
In the bulb there is a flower. In the seed an apple tree. In cocoons a hidden promise, something you alone can see. As we enter this wilderness time between called pastors, turn our hearts and minds towards You, the giver of all good gifts and the source of abundant life. Amen.

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