Thank God for John the Baptist (1st Sunday after Christmas)

Readings

V.14 looks like the climax of the text: it’s John’s way of capturing the deep joy that’s run through the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke. It’s the first, perhaps the most important theme, in this sermon. The Word became flesh, and the world hasn’t been the same since. We mark our years “B.C.” or “A.D.”

And yet even here (v.15) John the evangelist talks also about John the Baptist. And exploring John the Baptist’s role is the second theme in the sermon—and that will take some unpacking.

“He came as a witness to testify to the light.” What’s that about? If I say “that light is on” that sounds like pretty useless information. Why does light need a witness?

It turns out that John the evangelist uses blindness as an image of the default human condition. The light can be right in front of us, and we’re clueless. That includes John the Baptist. We’d assume that his spiritual eyesight was 20/20, but later in this chapter we hear him confess:

No dove, no recognition: even John the Baptist needs a witness.

John: “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mk 1.4). Clothed in camel hair, eating grasshoppers & wild honey, baptizing folk in water that was more or less clean. You either heard John on his terms or you didn’t hear him at all. The people who’d received John’s baptism were the core of Jesus’ followers; those who’d rejected John’s baptism tended to reject Jesus too.

The apostle Paul talks about our sight in gentler terms:

So, one thing listening to John the evangelist and Paul might do is increase our awareness of our limited perception, increase our humility—particularly when we’re dealing with folk with whom we disagree. We’re not as in touch with Reality as we like to imagine.

But back to the text. God so loved the world that he not only sent his only begotten Son, light of the world, but also sent John the Baptist so that some could recognize that light.

Now here’s something to wonder about. Some 20 centuries later, we’re here because of the witness of those who’ve played John’s role in our lives. My family, my friends: these are among those who’ve played John’s role for me. What would your short list look like? Full disclosure: there are times when John is the last person we want to deal with. There are times when we find ourselves about to order John’s head served up on a platter.

There are times… I don’t know how your arguments with God go. Mine sometimes go like this: “God, where are you?” Silence. More silence. Eventually in the silence I hear a counter question: “Are you listening to John?” Sometimes paying attention to that question gets the conversation moving again.

God enlists agents other than people to play John’s role. My list of such witnesses would start out in California with the High Sierras above tree line under a full moon. What would yours start with?

Again, we eventually figure out that God calls us not to one change but a whole series of changes —“changed from glory into glory” is how one of our hymns puts it. Jesus is always out in front of us. So we’re always in need of witnesses. Who are those now preparing the way for the next changes to which God is inviting us? Who are those whose heads—if I had my way—might end up on a platter?

This business about John in today’s Gospel invites us to gratitude not simply for the Birth, but for the many witnesses God sends us so that we’re a little more able to see, to believe, to rejoice.

Who plays John’s role now? This question challenges me in two additional ways that I’ll mention before wrapping up.

First, God runs a risk sending John: we can mistake John for the Light. Today’s Gospel warns us against that. It can be comfortable to stop with John.

Second, what about the people for whom I might quite unconsciously be playing John’s role? So who I am, who I’m becoming, is important both for my sake and for others’. We’re interconnected that way.

Responding to who or what is playing John’s role in our lives, managing not to confuse these with the Light itself, playing—quite unconsciously—John’s role in the lives of others: three elements in our common life nurtured by this generous God who not only sends the light, but also companions to help us encounter it. Amen.

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