"The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." In this way, Mark opens his Gospel. It is for the early Christians, a new beginning, a fulfillment of the Old Testament, to be sure, but a fresh inbreaking of God. The new beginning is not limited to the early Christian. The Gospel is, for each of us who follow Christ, an opportunity for a new beginning. Human experience and the written word come together in a new reality of faith.

Advent is the beginning of a new year for us. A time to concentrate on our spiritual growth, on commitment, on becoming. "What sort of persons ought you to be?" Peter challenges in his letter. And that is a good question for us to ask as we prepare for the coming of our Saviour.

Mark begins his Gospel with the story of John the Baptizer. John, like Elijah, is clothed in animal skins and leather belt. He lives a simple life in the wilderness, eating locusts and wild honey. In the tradition of the ancient prophets he proclaims the imminent fulfillment of God's great promise to humanity. He preaches a baptism of repentance. And the crowds flock to hear him. Don't you have to ask yourselves why? What did they see in him? What yearning did he touch in people? They recognized him as the messenger, as the one sent in preparation for the long awaited Messiah.

All of Christian faith begins with a call to repentance. The Greek word for it, the word Mark uses in the Gospel, is 'metanoia'. It means literally "to turn around", to change the focus in one's life. We use words like 'conversion' or 'being born again' to describe the kind of transformation that takes place. At our Advent Study on Tuesday we were talking about it as we shared our faith story. We were talking about how we came to be believers. For many of us that kind of salvation language is uncomfortable. I remember when I was a child of seven or eight walking downtown with my mother. A man came up to her on the street, waving his Bible at her. "Are you saved?" he asked her. "I'm an Anglican," she quipped back at him. I suspect that many of us find it 'unanglican' to speak in such terms. But the gospel clearly calls us to allow God to transform our lives.

How do we answer that call? Do we all really need conversion? I believe myself that the answer to that is yes. But I do not for one moment think that we experience conversion in the same way. We often think of conversion as a sudden transformation, a flash of insight, a moment of enlightenment or awakening. And that can be the case. For some people, there is a definite and distinct time in their lives when they experience God's call in a new and life changing way.

I suspect that for most people in church this morning, conversion has been a lifetime process, a lifetime of following God, a lifetime of commitment to the Gospel. For such people, conversion is a quiet recognition of how God continues to work in their lives. I know that if I look back on my own life I cannot find a time when I was not a Christian. There are low times when I wondered if God cared. There are also times when I had mountain top experiences. There have been times along the way that I can only describe as 'aha' moments when God gave me insights that deepened my experience and strengthened my faith.

What we all need is an authentic faith that we claim as our own. I think for that to happen we must have a sense that something is, not necessarily wrong, but that something is missing from our lives. Then we need a glimpse of who we are meant to be. That happens in many ways and at many times in our lives if we let it. It demands openness, honesty, integrity, and above all, courage. It means working at it. It means spending time in study, in examining our way of living, in committing as much time and energy to the spiritual dimensions of our lives as we do to the secular.

We need to get out of our spiritual rut. Unfortunately, that invariably means change. Change is painful. It is difficult. It requires the hard work of mourning the past and then getting on with the future. Change requires seeing the need for it. Often it means seeing the hurt in others and being willing to put aside our own needs for them.

I think our biggest fear about conversion is not that we will face change, but that we will somehow change. Will we suddenly become "Jesus freaks" or be seen as fanatics? But to be converted is not to become a new and strange person. It is rather to open up new dimensions of ourselves.

A good friend of mine went on a Cursillo weekend. She was a church secretary. Her "boss" cautioned her not to let the experience change her too much. The weekend turned out to be a wonderfully fulfilling experience for her, a time of real renewal in her life. She came back filled with excitement. She wanted very much to share what had happened with him. But she feared that he would misunderstand its importance. She decided what to do. She went into his office. At first, he didn't really look up. He kept on working and said, "Well! Did it change you?" She said, "Well, what do you think?" Then he looked up at her and broke into gales of laughter. She was wearing a hot pink fright wig.

In every conversion there is continuity as well as change. Our talents and gifts are not denied. They are redirected. Conversion does not put one down. Instead it opens one to full potentiality. It is a positive and joyful experience.

Advent is a new beginning for us. It can provide us with a reason for existence, a purpose, an objective. Jesus becomes that purpose. He confronts us with the promise of salvation as we embrace him to enthrone himself in our hearts and to make us his children and servants for ever. Let us reflect on where Christ has brought healing and salvation into our lives. Let us remember who has been the presence of Christ coming to us in love. Let us be prepared for the coming of the kingdom, for Jesus to come to us, to enter our souls and hearts. Let us recognize him in his coming. Let this be a time of real renewal in our lives and in the life of our church. Amen.