The Man with the Pointy Finger

Mark 1:1-9
Advent 2
December 10, 2023
William G. Carter

The Bible is full of unusual people
who resemble us in every way.
Distance and time do not separate us
from what these folks do, what they say.
We look in the mirror when we open the pages
Astonished, we realize, that across the ages,
With clear relevance these now ancient sages
Speak with truth and point the way.

So, consider a man who smelled like a camel.
He barked like a dog in the night.
John was his name, and he wasn’t tame.
He spoke with all of his might.
Folks thought he was strange, living out on the range,
His hair, long and dirty, an impressive mange.
He feasted on bugs. To us, that sounds strange,
This Man with the Pointy Finger.

Before we dismiss him, consider his pedigree.
His father lived up in the hills.
A priest, with his wife, resided in Galilee,
off the beaten path where there are no thrills.
Because of his calling, he traveled to the Temple,
Not always, but sometimes, the schedule was simple.
He prayed and burned incense without drama or dimple.
Until an angel pointed to him.

“I have news for you,” Gabriel said with delight.
“Despite your old age, you’ll soon have a son.
He’ll point to God’s work and turn people’s hearts.”
The priest said, “No way. I can’t be the one.
My wife, dear Elizabeth, is long past her days.
We’ve given up on children, with sadness, I’m afraid.
A baby’s not possible. No hope but dismay.
Surely, you’ve got the wrong father.”

Don’t argue with an angel. For they never lie.
They speak for God with clear intent.
These messengers bring tidings of truth from on high.
It is God whom they represent.
The angel said, “You’re a priest. Don’t you recall?
The scriptures tell stories of barren folks, all,
Who gave birth despite the biological call.
Clearly, you have nothing to say.”

The priest was struck silent in front of God’s altar.
Then he stumbled out, stiff as a post.
The crowd was astonished and somewhat frightened.
It seemed the old Priest saw a ghost.
He pointed inside. He pointed up high.
He pointed to his wife who let out a sigh.
Nine long months later, her birthing was nigh
For a baby with a pointy finger.

That loosened his tongue, especially the day
when it was due time for the boy to be named.
People in town thought he’d be called Junior.
The priest shook his head. The matter reframed.
“His name shall be John,” he wrote on a slate.
“God gave him this name and I have to state
He’s given to the Lord like Samuel – who was great.”
(Though for us, he’s the Man with the Pointy Finger.)

A prophet, a truth-teller, pointing ahead
to God’s good work in one more Child.
John was called to reside in the desert,
by the river, where everything’s wild.
His Old Testament clothing and his direct speech,
sounded like the God of old could still reach
The hearts, souls, and minds of those now impeached
By the Man with the Pointy Finger.

He pointed to royals and named them as fakes.
He pointed to peasants and called out their sin.
He pointed to priests and named them as snake.
He pointed to all and invited them in.
“Repent! Come home to the God who still loves you.
Turn around from wrong paths. Resist what is killing you.
God will burn everything false. It is true!”
Said the Man with the Pointy Finger.

Every so often that message is heard,
though dismissed by an indulgent crowd.
Yet every so often, that message cuts through
the world’s charms and distractions so loud.
God desires our cold hearts without a rival.
God wants our attention to ensure our survival.
God comes to ignite our souls in revival,
Said the Man with the Pointy Finger.

Now, lest we think this John works only through words,
the Prophet calls us to the river.
He declares, “We must turn from every distraction
that pulls us away from life’s Giver.
“Get into the water. It’s bracing and cold.
The shock will affect you and shake up your soul.
But you’ll stand again, wet, and part of God’s fold,”
Says the Man with the Pointy Finger.

If we’ve become selfish, consumed by our greed,
if we in our arrogance push others around,
John points us to all who are starving in need,
saying, “Cut it out! Stop shaking them down.”
If we have full closets of coats we don’t wear,
God says it is high time to learn how to share.
For this is but one way we can show holy care,
Says the Man with the Pointy Finger.

This Pointer remains a remarkable man,
a priest’s son and prophet, with plenty to say.
Crowds heard him gladly, for this was God’s plan.
Hip-deep in the river, he prepared the Way.
The Way, toward what? You might wish to ask.
The Way for God’s coming, our souls to unmask.
For this was the Pointy Man’s ultimate task,
To point to the coming Messiah!

“He is greater than I. Stop looking at me!
Turn your gaze toward him. See his fire!
He will burn worthless chaff. His grace sets us free.”
Those words, quite profound, will inspire.
John points us to all, the good and the bad.
He points us to brokenness that makes us sad.
Then he points us toward Jesus whose love makes us glad.
This is the mission of the Pointy Finger.

I suppose we could stay just the way that we are.
Self-contained, independent, indifferent to all.
Yet God selects John to speak, wash, and point.
A prophet, indeed, with a self-giving call.
So, turn around and come home. Return to our God.
Get ready for the Christ, who is God in a bod,
Repent and embrace him, even if it is odd.
Says the Man with the Pointy Finger.

We can dismiss John as ancient, a prophetic antique,
declaring he’s got nothing on us.
Yet the Word that he speaks is relevant still,
without a whole lot of fuss.
Through him, God still points and calls to account
All wayward children who live on this mount
To access their souls, their fears to surmount.
No one escapes that pointy finger.

All of us wander from One who keeps loving us.
Some who still wander are lost.
All of us live with fidelity and fear,
and a few have their hearts touched by frost.
John shows up again to ignite our weak hopes,
To call us back home and to wise up the dopes.
Without his clear call we’d be lost on the ropes.
Thank God for the pointy finger!

So come home, O saints, you Beloved of God.
You’re wanted, you’re loved, and you’re found.
The Way is now clear to return to the Source.
The welcome awaits. It’s profound.
Trust you are loved, no matter the sin.
Trust sin is canceled, despite your chagrin.
Trust there is One who gathers us in –
And he has his finger on you!

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.