We begin with a modern parable, “a story that never actually happened” but that’s still true in some profound way.

Here’s the story.

A businessman from a metropolitan area received a registered letter informing him that an entrepreneurial group in another city had decided to honor him with their prestigious “Innovator of the Year” award. He was delighted. On the day of the presentation he allowed himself plenty of time to drive the Interstate, from one community to the other. But at the last minute, his phone rang and he ended up ‘putting out a fire,’ as they say in the corporate world, handling an unexpected production emergency at his local factory.

Once on the road, running late, he told his GPS device, “Show me a shortcut that will get me to my destination faster than the normal route.” Then he turned the task of navigation over to his GPS device, and started out.

To his surprise, somewhere southeast of his city, near the county line, he was instructed to take an exit. He figured it was a trustworthy message, so he turned off. Then he was directed onto a local blacktop. That was fine. But a few miles further on, the blacktop abruptly changed to gravel.

That, he thought, was pretty odd. But he didn’t have time to turn around and go back, so he kept going. Then the gravel gave way to dirt. And it had rained the night before, so the dirt was really more like soft mud. He slowed down, but kept going. He began to wonder whether his GPS had lost its mind. He spoke to it. “Are you sure this is the right way?” The metallic-sounding voice replied, “Have I ever let you down before? Just keep going.”

Now he was getting nervous, and a little irritated. But he fully expected to see more pavement up ahead at any moment. Instead, the muddy road turned into a pair of tracks, a one-way path that seemed to lead into a field. He thought, My GPS had better know what it’s doing, or it’s going to have some explaining to do. Immediately it struck him as absurd. His GPS had never been known to provide a rationale for anything, much less apologize for a mistake.

Suddenly he saw, up ahead, a barbed wire fence blocking the two-tracks on which he was driving. He coasted up to it and stopped. Through the windshield he found himself staring at a cow, studying him with interest. He climbed out, looked at his tires, and realized he was mired in, up to the hubcaps. He was going to need a tow truck.

Angry, he pulled out his cell phone and called the organizer of the event in the distant city. “I’m going to be late,” he admitted, then hung up. Then he speed-dialed AAA and asked for a wrecker. The man on the other end of the line said, “Tell me where you are.” He couldn’t do it. He tried to describe how he’d gotten there. The tow truck operator said, “I have no idea where you are. Walk to a farmhouse and maybe they can call me and explain it.”

He turned off his phone and said to the GPS, “Thanks for nothing.” The answer he got was, “We’re sorry. This device is experiencing a fatal software flaw. Please navigate by using your wits and your common sense.”

Needless to say, he missed the ceremony — and the award.

This story is a parable for our lives. It’s drawn from words the writer of Mark attributes to Jesus in today’s gospel reading. John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

The Greek word for repentance in this story is metanoia. It means, “Change your mind” or “turn around. Stop going the wrong way. Face a healthy direction, and then go there.” So, in terms of John the Baptist’s words to his listeners, this parable is a cautionary tale about the need to turn around and go a different way.

Could the driver, heading for the award ceremony, have known he was heading for trouble? There were all kinds of signs. Surely when the pavement turned to gravel, he should have known something was amiss. That would have been the time to turn off the GPS and simply follow his better judgment.

How does this apply to us? I’m guessing nobody in this room has been invited to drive to a distant city to accept a prize for innovative creativity (although there’s a chance someone in the congregation today actually has). But all of us are on a journey. And our journey through life can best be thought of as a pilgrimage, into God’s future. We are here, on this wonderful blue and white planet (as it appears from space) in order to discover what God has in mind for us, and then to do it as best we are able.

What are the signs along the way, that tell us whether we’re on the right path, or whether we’re heading for disaster? There’s a simple answer. We are moving in the right direction when we discern what is good for us, and for the people whom we meet, and with whom we interact, from day to day. If and when it becomes clear that our lives are being enriched, and that theirs are too, because of the choices we make, for ourselves and also on their behalf, then we can be sure that we are on the right path — the one that leads into God’s future.

What are the warning signs? Those are pretty clear as well. Every time it becomes obvious that we are doing something, or allowing something to happen, that harms ourselves or another person, we can be certain we’ve taken a wrong turn. God gave us eyes and ears and our brains in order to read these signs. Sometimes we may not notice, right away, the damage we are doing. But as soon as it becomes clear, then we need to turn, to change direction, to repent.

If someone in your neighborhood — which includes the people you encounter wherever you might find yourself going in the course of a normal day — is experiencing despair of any kind, and you become aware of it but take no action whatsoever to help (or to find someone who could provide the help), then you’re on the wrong road. It’s time to turn onto a better one. Because, otherwise, both you and that person will surely be diminished, and God’s heart will be grieved.

All four of the gospel writers, and also the apostle Paul, talk about repentance — turning, changing direction, getting on a better road. The gospel of Luke does it more consistently and more forcefully than any of the other writers. But Mark was written before Luke, and this first surviving New Testament gospel writer lifts up this important message for the faith community in his very first chapter.

The United Negro College Fund uses a slogan that’s useful for all of us. It tells people, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” That’s the message of this gospel story. We can turn our lives away from the path that enriches and fulfills our lives, or we can turn from life’s gravel roads and mud tracks onto a road designed just for us — one that refuses to see any human life wasted and thrown away — including our own. Take the better road. Don’t get stuck in the mud.

Repentance — changing our mind, turning around — is a good theme on which to meditate during Advent. It’s also a good starting point for beginning a new church year. We are accustomed to making ‘New Year’s resolutions’ on the first day of January. There’s no need to wait. A great new (church) year’s resolution for all of us would be this: I’m ready for something new, something different, a changed direction, a better path. I want to be a child of the light. I want to head down a new road. I know it’s why God put me on this planet in the first place.

Happy pilgrimage! And, as you travel that hopeful path, rejoice and be glad!