This is twice in two weeks that we’ve had a Gospel reading about John the Baptist. What’s the deal? Why would the lectionary compilers put the same story in, to be told on successive weeks? The short answer is, the characters may be the same, but the story is not.
In last week’s passage from Mark’s Gospel, we heard about John the baptizer, where he lived and where he preached. We heard that the central message of his preaching was repentance. That’s not exactly what John’s Gospel wants us to understand from this event.
As you are probably aware, the three synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) along with the Gospel of John, all tell the same story – the Good News of Jesus Christ – but each tells it in its own way. And just as it is with families, where stories that are central to the family’s history are told differently, depending upon which family member is telling the story, so it is with the Gospels. Mark’s account brought the spotlight to bear on John the Baptist’s message – repent and return to the Lord – whereas the Gospel of John wants us to understand who the Baptist was, who he WASN’T, and what John (the Gospel writer) saw his mission to be.
You see, St. John – the Gospel writer, not the Baptist – has a very central point to make in his telling of Jesus’ story. He wants to make sure that we “get” the fact that Jesus was God Incarnate – the same God who created the earth, who chose to become fully human in order to connect with us in a new and different way. The “Light,” which is how the writer of this Gospel refers to Jesus before the beginning of His earthly ministry, the “Light,” came into the world to save the world from itself, from its sin and the death that naturally follows sin. The Light came into the world to show the world what was hiding in the dark corners that humans had created, and to save humanity from all of the horrors that they had created in that darkness. But those who were in charge of Israel’s religion in the first Century did not understand who Jesus was – and they showed that they didn’t understand who John the Baptist was either.
When the leaders of the Temple in Jerusalem went out into the wilderness to find this crazy preacher who was out there baptizing people and teaching them about the Light, they asked the Baptist, “Who are you?” But John didn’t tell them who he was. Instead he told them who he was NOT. He was NOT the Messiah. He was NOT Elijah – the greatest Hebrew prophet. John didn’t acknowledge to the authorities, the fact that he WAS a prophet, instead he told them that – whatever they decided to call him – he took his marching orders from the same place that the prophet Isaiah took his. He was the one whose voice was crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.
That’s how the writer of the fourth Gospel understood the mission of John the Baptist. He was the herald – the one who announced the coming of the One who was so great that John wouldn’t even presume to untie His shoe for Him. But as important as this announcing aspect of John’s mission was, the writer of this Gospel gives John an even more important title – witness to the Light.
The author of the 4th Gospel says that John was “the witness,” or in Greek, (martyreo). If we think for a minute about how different that is from Mark’s description of the baptizing preacher of repentance, we might get something quite profound out of this Gospel portrayal.
Have you ever testified in a courtroom? Perhaps you saw an accident happen and were called to testify about it. Or maybe someone you knew had a dispute with someone else and you knew some important facts about the dispute. Maybe you’ve only seen courtroom activities on television and in the movies. If that is the case, let me tell you that what you know about courtrooms is NOT true. Not only have I examined and cross-examined quite a few people in courtrooms in my time, I have also been called to testify on one occasion. And it gave me a whole new empathy and appreciation for what witnesses are called to do.
During my second year out of law school, one of the projects I was given to do involved a piece of property being foreclosed upon and determining whether or not an insurance policy had to pay out when the debtor defaulted on his note with the bank. I did my job and advised the insurance company on how to proceed. Years later, I was called to testify in Federal Court after the bank had sued their insurance carrier – the carrier I had advised. It was while I was sitting on the witness stand, being attacked, not only for my legal abilities (or lack thereof), but also for the accuracy of my memory and my propensity to tell the truth (or lack thereof), that I developed an understanding of the word witness.
Legal proceedings cannot move forward without witnesses. Witnesses establish what happened and what did not in any lawsuit. Each side in a lawsuit knows what it believes the truth to be and therefore each side knows what the witnesses need to say in order for their side to win. But witnesses are funny things. They only know what they know. And if they’re honest, they only testify to what is within their knowledge and understanding – and that makes one side or the other angry. That’s why it is interesting to note that the Greek word, martyreo has the same root as the word martyr.
John the Baptist was the first witness to the Light that came into the world – Jesus. The knowledge he had of Jesus, the knowledge that he worked so hard to impart on the crowds who came from all over to listen to him, was knowledge that didn’t make John popular with the Pharisees and Scribes. John witnessed to a Light that was desperately needed in the Temple as well as throughout the world. He testified to a Light that would come and illuminate all of the abuses that were taking place in Israel, abuses of the Romans against the Israelites; abuses by the wealthy of the poor; abuses by these religious leaders of both the system of worship and the people who came to the Temple to worship.
Sometimes light shining on our activities is the LAST thing we want to have happen. And so, the martyreo becomes the martyr, which we know ultimately happened to John. When witnesses don’t testify the way we want them to, the way that helps OUR case, we want them to pay a price, to be martyred for what they have done. And that’s what King Herrod ordered be done to John later in the story.
John witnessed Jesus. John knew things about Jesus that the court of public opinion needed in order to make up its mind. John witnessed. And some members of his jury believed, and some got angry because their version of the truth was shown to be wrong. But the important thing for John was the witnessing itself, the simple telling of the truth about the Light of the world. No matter what the authorities thought; no matter what the world thought, John witnessed to the Light he knew. We can do the same. We are called to do the same.
This morning, listen to what John witnessed – the Light of the World coming into our lives to lead us in the way of truth and life. This week, when you’re out there trying to avoid virus exposure as you finish your Christmas preparations, or while you are trying desperately to get everything done before the holiday gets here, stop and remember what John witnessed. We are called to witness the same thing.
We’ve experienced the power of Christ in our lives, just like John did. Now it’s our turn to witness that power to the world, in the things we say, the things we do – in the way we live our lives.
In the name of the God who comes into the world to save and judge us, Amen.
[Advent 3B Sermon 121320, Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Psalm 126 or Canticle 3 or 151 Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8, 19-28]
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