The Rev. Dr. Kenneth H. Saunders III
St. James Episcopal Church
Greeneville, TN
December 17, 2023
John the Baptizer is an interesting character. We heard about John last week; he was in the wilderness crying out, “Prepare the way of the Lord… Repent and turn to God.” In this process, he stirs things up. The Baptizer’s words are urgent and disturbing so much that the Judaean priests and Levites come out to him and demand: “Who do you think you are?”
This morning, that is what the Gospel message is all about. And John’s answer is even more alarming. He is already stirring and shaking up things as they are because he is baptizing for the forgiveness of sins. The issue is that John is neither the Christ nor Elijah or the Prophet Elijah. He is just a voice, a voice crying out in the wilderness, a voice announcing that God is near, and he is pleading with us to wake up, repent of our sins, be baptized, and prepare ourselves for the One who will come to liberate us.
John the Baptist is a witness to God’s coming amid that isolated and confined world that we call “our life,” a confinement formed by our self-deceiving thoughts that we are, perhaps, self-governing, advantaged, knowledgeable, or even economically stable. It’s hard for us to sit still and be silent; be silent enough so we can listen carefully, listen for that prophetic voice of God that talks to us through unlikely messengers and invites us to the in-between spaces. Sit and listen. Heed their warnings so that we can be fully prepared when the time comes!
Whether it’s a “still small voice” or an impassioned prophetic cry, God’s presence in our isolated lives often makes us uncomfortable. We think our lives are private and want nothing to upset the stability and the familiarity. So the slightest sound that may be from God, or any sense of a “small” voice that disturbs our organized life, are unwelcome disturbances to us! They don’t fit into that carefully created pattern of living…
The Priests and Levites who came out to confront John the Baptist would understand this thought pattern. They wanted nothing to upset their stability, the familiarity of their lives organized around traditional temple worship. They were deeply invested in their traditions but much more in themselves than in God. That’s why John and his message was so threatening to them. If John were really from God, if he really were a prophetic voice, then things as they knew them would change; they had to! But they didn’t want anything to change; they wanted things to stay exactly as they were. This changelessness, however, is not what God is about.
Like the Priests, the Levites, and most humans, people like things to stay just as they are. Change is one of those things that makes us “comfortable.” We like the safety of the captive lives we have created for ourselves.
Then we hear the words of the Prophet Isaiah about rejoicing in Jerusalem and being clothed with garments of salvation and a robe of righteousness. We hear that our labors shall not be in vain, that the captives will be free, and they will have the oil of gladness and a mantel of praise. These are comfortable words to the people and comforting promises. But the promises are only fulfilled by the passing away what once was and the coming into being of the new world order that God is creating.
We don’t like hearing those words of the repentant turning and change, the turning around we must all do. We don’t like it, so we end up closing our ears so we don’t hear anything. As a result, we’re not able to hear God. John’s prophetic voice invites us to live outside of our comfort zones. He invites us to live outside of our own confining lives, and it calls us to be different from the established order around us.
Paul’s call to the church at Thessalonica holds them to the Baptizer’s call: Help the weak, do not repay evil for evil, seek to do good to all, and hold fast to what is good. If we have made our place and are firmly “dug-in” to the way it has always been done before, if we are secure in our captivity and in our isolation, then we can understand the world and the fears of the Thessalonians.
We learn to be comfortable with the familiar. And in our cozy comfort, we fear anything different. But John’s voice calls out to us, calls out to our spirits, our souls, and bodies. He calls us to be kept sound and blameless at the coming of God.
As we heard it last week and again this morning, the Baptist’s cry is so cold, urgent, and disturbing. He is a voice announcing that God is near, inviting us to wake up, repent of our sins, and prepare ourselves for the One who will liberate us from our isolated unchanging lives, isolation formed by our self-deceiving thoughts that we are independent, privileged, educated, politically correct, or even economically stable.
When we are on the edge of life and know that we are alone, without property or privilege, we know firsthand the Scripture’s words of assurance to the least of God’s people because we have started to recognize ourselves as the least of God’s people. It’s only then that our self-deceptions begin to fall away.
There are countless ways this can happen. It often happens under conditions that disrupt our life, like progress and growth – maybe a sickness, death, or layoff. Crises like these, crises of our personal, professional, and political lives, are sometimes the point at which our Christian life begins or maybe begins again.
We heard John’s cry last week so that we could be prepared. But the most crucial step that we can take this morning is to respond in action to that voice that calls us out of our own complacency. It’s a step that takes us out of the comfort zones of our lives. It’s a realization that we are dependent and share the same limitations as all other human beings. Knowing our need for God is more significant than our fear of God’s demands.
The things we are afraid of are all likely to occur, but they are nothing to fear. As I said a few weeks ago, we are all witnesses of God in this world. The Christian life invites us to accept this mission with all its hazards and burdens. It’s challenging work and sometimes a crisis, but for us Christians, the word crisis has morphed into “transformation” or positive change. Consider the lives of the saints. Consider Paul and John the Baptist. They were all engaged in God’s plan, fearfully, no doubt, but they had enough courage, initiative, and endurance to love God more than be afraid of God.
They knew themselves to be finite and dependent on a power far greater than themselves, and they let themselves be formed by God and took their place in the great movement, reconnecting souls that were separated from God. So, we learn from them. We hear the cry and respond daringly. And if we let God, God will come to us and inform and transform our lives. God will release us and keep us from being captive.
