John the Outlaw Part II (Reflections on Advent 3)

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, ‘I am not the Messiah.’ And they asked him, ‘What then? Are you Elijah?’ He said, ‘I am not.’ ‘Are you the prophet?’ He answered, ‘No.’ Then they said to him, ‘Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’ He said, ‘I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,
“Make straight the way of the Lord” ’,as the prophet Isaiah said. Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, ‘Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?’ John answered them, ‘I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.’ This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing. (John 1:6-8, 19-28)

If there was ever any doubt about John the Baptist's status as an outlaw, this reading from John's gospel should set us all straight. Our man John was certainly operating outside of the system, and the surest indicator of this was the hoity-toity ruling class sending their little minions out to question his authority. I'm certain the temple bigwigs were concerned about this bug-eating, camel skin-wearing preacher who had the audacity to proclaim the forgiveness of sins and the amendment of life without ritual sacrifice or their official sanction.

But John also stands outside of the culture of today just as he stood outside all of those centuries ago. He confessed and did not deny that he was nothing special, only a voice repeating what God had been telling the world for centuries. He was not worthy to untie the sandals of the one whose coming he so longed for.

How counter-cultural, in our self-absorbed society, for someone to be so humble and so unconcerned about his own importance. I muse how John would react if he were in our world of “selfies,” Instagrams, and facebook—a world where we perpetually shout, “Here I am! Look at me!” The screenwriter Diablo Cody once commented that our social media obsession has placed us all everlastingly in high school where we constantly compete to see which of us is the coolest. Even our observation of the holy time of Advent has become an exercise in self-glorification. We decorate our homes with lights to celebrate the Light of the World, and find ourselves in competition with our neighbors. We send Christmas cards with pictures of our family, replacing greetings depicting the Holy Family. We teach our children to anticipate the coming of a portly gentleman who will reward their goodness rather than teaching them about the coming of a tiny baby who will love them in spite of their shortcomings.

This is what I love about Advent and the stories of John the Baptist—his message combines both alarm and comfort. If the Light is coming into the world—and if any of it shines on me—it's going to reveal how self-centered, insecure, petty, stubborn, and silly I really am. It's going to light up everything. But that's good news, because any of us are only as sick as our own secrets. When the Light comes, we'll have the glorious opportunity to confess our faults and start over again.

This John is a pretty gutsy guy. He flies in the face of the world's accepted authority, and claims the only authority which truly matters—the fact that he knows Jesus and who Jesus is meant to be for us.

Rejoice in the Light, my friends, and thanks for stopping by.