As interesting as Advent is there is one thing that does get a bit weird in Year B—two straight weeks of John the Baptist. And he often strikes me like a one-trick pony.
Repent!
Then get dunked in the river.
And even the questions of him are predictable.
Am I the Messiah? Heavens no! I’m not fit to untie his sandals!
So how do we handle another week of John?
The significant difference
Whether we want to cover it or not, there is one big difference between the telling in Mark and the one here in John.
In Mark, John the Baptizer clearly comes as a prophet. He dressed like one, ate like one, spoke like one. It doesn’t even matter that he doesn’t call himself one, he acted like one.
His being a prophet was central to the telling Mark.
In John, however, John the Baptist claims he isn’t a prophet.
I’ve heard and read enough people who dismiss these differences as insignificant. I honestly hate when we overly minimize the textual challenges.
And yet, I also think we could try to stretch this particular example into something too significant. I mean, does anyone really want to hear a twenty minute sermon on this?
But somewhere between these two ideas, I find the whole matter genuinely curious. Because why does John’s John not want to be a prophet?
Humility vs. Prophecy
There are two notes that John hits (aside from his main note: Repent!).
- He is nothing compared with Jesus.
- He is here to testify to him.
And I think, our stubborn attempts to get down to singular, absolute truths tends to shave off the ways notes combine to make music.
Much like Jesus’s Greatest Commandment combines loving God and neighbor into a seamless whole, the humility and prophecy of John the Baptist combines easily.
A lesson for us
The participatory character of John’s prophecy—that he is merely a link in the chain—often strikes us like a matter of history. A thing takes place to usher in the next. But it is far more significant that people come to him. Because people are already hungry.
We often treat the coming of Jesus as the beginning, but it has already begun. Jesus doesn’t arrive to meet the needs of the people. John was already doing that. And the people someone who was already doing that when Jesus arrives.
John demonstrates the necessity of humility—and its proper place. Because the humility keeps people focused on the real thing. And he does this while being remarkable.
Our desire to be noticed, unique, and special so often undermines our ability to be humble. Just as so many of our attempts to be humble fall into mediocrity. We have a hard time regulating ourselves.
What is probably just as important is the humility of our prophecy. And I’m not just speaking to those who love being prophetic.
Dressing the Part
I do find the idea of playing with the tension about the role of the prophet yields a lot of fruitful ideas—for the preacher and the would-be prophets in the congregation.
Even the very real possibility that John dressed the part and avoided the label. Maybe in that postmodern don’t-pin-me-down way. Or the I-need-to-speak-to-all-sides way. But I suspect it is more likely in the genuine, let’s-not-get-it-twisted way.
Prophets were the holiest of men. And the two accounts highlight two ideas.
- In Mark, the prophet’s arrival is to usher in someone even bigger than that, if you can believe it!
- In John, he doesn’t want his prophetic nature to steal the Messiah’s thunder.
As in most things, I think they’re both right.
And, once again, I prefer Mark.