Reclaiming the Wilderness

Note: This is a repeat of an earlier sermon.

Introduction and Welcome

Good morning, everybody. My name is Pastor Conrad—I guess my first name is now Pastor. I’m excited to be here with you this morning. This might be one of the largest crowds I’ve preached in front of. That’s fine; I’m not nervous. I’m just going to have some water. Okay.

No, I’m just kidding. I’m actually really excited to be part of the team at Mountain Springs. It seems like every week there’s something new to be excited about. I’m excited that Brent would move, and I’m still dealing with my excitement about that. Quinn sends us a picture from Cochrane, where they’re full all the way into the lobby on Easter. Man, isn’t it amazing to be part of what God is doing in the city of Calgary? I don’t know—I find that really exciting.

So anyway, before we dig in this morning, I want to make sure that everyone is properly prepared and equipped in the room. If you forgot your Bible, if you didn’t want to bring your Bible, don’t have a Bible, or don’t own a Bible—throw your hand up in the air. Our greeters will help you out. You can go ahead and stick your finger in Mark chapter 1 while that’s happening. We’re going to do our Bible study this morning in the book of Mark.

The Phrase “Wandering in the Wilderness”

I have a question for everyone while that’s going on. Has anyone in the room today ever heard or used the phrase “wandering in the wilderness”? Thank you, Quinn—I see that hand. Typically, when we talk about wandering in the wilderness, we’re referring to this sort of aimless, directionless, possibly sinful, almost certainly far-from-God experience. We’re just sort of floating, drifting, spitting in the wind—general waywardness.

In fact, until recently, I would have referred to my bout of general waywardness as wilderness wandering. And I was sort of right, but for the wrong reason.

My Personal Story of Rebellion

It was about 20 years ago that I decided I was done with the church. This is a true story. I had two years of Bible college under my belt, a couple of church internships—things were moving in the right direction. Then it all went off the rails. And why did it go off the rails? There’s only three reasons: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—gold, glory, and girls (or guys, for you ladies). For me, it was a girl. I was in love. It was not the woman who’s now my wife. But I was in love with this girl. We were going to get married. The church was holding me down. The church was cramping my style, man.

So I decided I was going to leave the church. I was going to run away from God. But as we sang this morning, His goodness was running after me. God literally sent a messenger into my life to chase me down and bring me back. I’ll come back to this story—we’ll drop it in our pocket for now.

The Undeserved Bad Reputation of the Wilderness

But for now, just let me say that the wilderness has gotten an undeservedly bad reputation. Someone’s like, “What? Explain yourself.” We’ll get there.

Reading the Scripture: Mark 1:1–8

So Mark chapter 1, verses 1 to 8. Let’s read together this morning.

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in the prophets: ‘Behold, I send My messenger before Your face, who will prepare Your way before You.’ ‘The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord; make His paths straight.”‘ John came baptizing in the wilderness and preaching a baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. Then all the land of Judea, and those from Jerusalem, went out to him and were all baptized by him in the Jordan River, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair and with a leather belt around his waist; he ate locusts and wild honey. And he preached, saying, ‘There comes One after me who is mightier than I, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to stoop down and loose. I indeed baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.'”

Let’s pray. Father, thank You for Your word. Thank You for Jesus. Thank You for this story about John the Baptizer that You’ve preserved for us for all these years. As we examine this story and the wilderness, I pray that we would come to a better understanding of what Your purpose is for the wilderness. Give us perspective. Amen.

Verse-by-Verse: The Powerful Opening of Mark

Verse by verse, as is the style. Verse 1: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” The fact that you’re not all gasping tells me I need to give you context. This is an incredibly powerful opening statement. It doesn’t seem like it to us, but to the Romans, for whom this was originally written, it was a bold, declarative, countercultural statement.

What does Mark mean by “the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ”? Is he simply saying this is the first line of the account? Is he talking about the prologue with John the Baptizer? Or does he have a more overarching intent? My vote is for the last one, but I’m not ready to talk about that yet—we’ll put that in our other pocket.

The next interesting thing is “the gospel of Jesus Christ.” Is it the gospel about Jesus or the one He taught? The answer is yes. The word for gospel is euangelion—good news. Most of us think of this as a distinctly Christian word, but it wasn’t when Mark wrote to the Romans. Rulers of ancient empires considered themselves god-kings. They created festivals to honor themselves. The “good news” was usually a birth announcement—backwards-facing, looking at an event that’s over and finished.

And the sharper among you are saying, “But Conrad, didn’t the stuff with Jesus happen 2,000 years ago? Didn’t He say ‘It is finished’?” Yes, the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus are singular events in history—done and finished. Here’s the controversial part: God coming to earth, being killed by His creation, and raised to life again are not, in and of themselves, good news.

If we ignore that the God of Israel is the necessary being who created the universe, and say it was some indifferent god who came to earth and we killed him just to show power—would that be good news? No. The good news is why He endured those things: His motivation to bring about our redemption. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the Messiah, did those things so we could receive salvation—no longer doomed to eternal separation from God. We too will be raised to live forever with the King of kings. That is the good news. Amen?

Mark takes this Roman idea of a god-king and applies it to Jesus: “Hey, you know that god-king you’re looking for? Here He is.” The entire gospel of Mark is the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ resurrection is not the conclusion—it’s the beginning. Everything from John the Baptizer to the resurrection is the final preparatory stage.

The Prophetic Preparation (Verses 2–3)

Verses 2 and 3: “As it is written in the prophets…” This passage is attributed to Isaiah, but it’s three Old Testament quotations mashed together: Exodus 23:20 (an angel), Malachi 3:1 (Elijah), and Isaiah 40:3 (the voice in the wilderness). From Exodus to Isaiah, the entire Jewish history was leading to this moment. John is the final layer of preparation, the one who goes ahead to prepare the way.

John in the Wilderness (Verses 4–5)

Verse 4: “John came baptizing in the wilderness and preaching a baptism of repentance for the remission of sins.” We’re back in the wilderness. The Israelites in the wilderness, Isaiah’s voice in the wilderness, John in the wilderness—it’s interesting.

Verse 5: The people from Judea and Jerusalem went out to him in the wilderness, were baptized in the Jordan, confessing their sins. John went to the wilderness, called people to the wilderness, and only there did they confess and get baptized.

John’s Humility and Role (Verses 6–7)

Verses 6–7: John wore camel’s hair and a leather belt, ate locusts and wild honey. He preached: “There comes One after me who is mightier than I, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to stoop down and loose.” He looks like a crazy person—desert dweller, eating bugs, hollering about confessing sins. But he knows his role: to prepare the people. He took a vow of poverty, living simply. Locusts are kosher (Leviticus 11:22)—feel free to have brunch of them today. Don’t invite me.

John isn’t using our envy-based ranking system. He’s talking about spiritual greatness. Remember the No Fear T-shirts from the ’90s? “He who dies with the most toys still dies.” Mark says in chapter 8: “What will it profit you to gain the whole world but lose your soul?”

Returning to My Story: From Rebellion to Wilderness

Let’s bring my story back. I chased a girl out of the church—not the one who became my wife. I turned my back on God to pursue what I wanted. I got saved at 15 in a casual way—no dramatic moment. I was an indifferent kid in youth group who said, “Sure, why not?” I didn’t appreciate the depth of sin in my life. I got a shallow gospel: God gives purpose, positive outlook, fire insurance.

The gospel is about how Jesus died for our sins—our choices put Him on the cross. If not for my time in the wilderness, I might never have appreciated that.

Reframing the Wilderness: A Place of Preparation

We’ve taken the doubting Israelites in Exodus—who died in the wilderness due to disobedience—and made that the canonical version. But I reject that the wilderness is synonymous with rebellion. It’s not bad—it’s good.

The word for wilderness means uninhabited land—bare, solitary. Alone isn’t bad. A quick biblical survey: Hagar in Genesis 16 and 21—God meets her. Joseph in Genesis 37—God sends Ishmaelites to rescue him. Elijah in 1 Kings 19—God nourishes him. Israel in Babylon (Ezekiel). The woman in Revelation 12 flees to the wilderness, where God protects her.

Even in Exodus, the wilderness is a place of restoration, transition, preparation. The Israelites reach the promised land. My rebellious phase was rebellion—not wilderness. The wilderness came when I repented.

God sent Big Ben—a weird, magnetic guy at my pizza job—who saw Jesus in people. He prayed for me, invited me to church, found my old worship CDs. One song by Jars of Clay hit me: “That old scarlet letter won’t keep Me from holding you.” God said, “I still love you.” I called my pastor, repented. That was the start of my wilderness—a time of humility, prayer, growth.

The wilderness is casting off encumbrances, focusing on God. We need wilderness moments—before worship, Bible reading, prayer—to prepare our hearts.

The Promise of the Holy Spirit (Verse 8)

Verse 8: “I indeed baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” In Matthew and Luke, it’s “with the Holy Spirit and fire.” We want the fire, but preparation matters. The camel hair and locusts prepare for the Holy Spirit. Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness—preparation for ministry, not waywardness.

We can’t neglect preparation. Seek wilderness moments to refine, reflect, repent, and ready ourselves.

Closing Prayer and Reflection

As the band comes up, let’s take a wilderness moment to prepare. Stand with me. God, thank You for Your word and this time to reflect. Speak to us. Help us seek wilderness moments. Amen.

Isaiah 43:18–19: “Do not remember the former things… Behold, I will do a new thing… I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Those verses started this church 15 years ago.

If you’re in your wilderness today, bow your head. Father, breathe afresh on those in uninhabited places. As a church, we say onward and upward—all for Your glory. In Jesus’ name. Amen.