St. John 1:6-8, 19-28
December 17, 2017
Advent 3B
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding. John the Baptist is back once again this Sunday as our guest preacher. And it’s a good thing, too. I’m not sure I would have been up to the task—not sure I would have known what to say. It’s been a horrible week for most of us. But John knows just what to say. John does what He does best. He walks with us in the wilderness. He leads us to the Light. He
Nearly all of us were touched by tragedy last week. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Tragedies come in all shapes and sizes: Some are public; while others are private. There can be one victim or hundreds. There can be a motive that makes sense, or no motive that makes sense. Tragedy can be self-inflicted, or inflicted upon others. Sometimes tragedy is anticipated; but more often it comes with no warning.
Last Sunday we heard about the huge crowds that were making their way out into the Jordan River wilderness to listen to John preach, and to be baptized by John with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And I think it’s safe to say that the vast majority of those people were hurting people—people whose lives had been touched by tragedy to some degree. Lots of outcasts, tax-collectors, and prostitutes. Somewhere along the line their lives began to trend downward. And who’s to say why? Where did things go wrong? Bad decisions? Risks taken or not taken? Poor impulse control? Whatever the case, tragedy had taken a toll on them, and they were looking to John for answers.
Today, however, we don’t hear so much about the crowds as we do about one very small contingent of priests and Levites. This blue-ribbon task force wasn’t touched by tragedy as much as by jealousy and curiosity. It seems that the church bureaucrats at the home office in Jerusalem wanted to know more about this locust-eating, leather-wearing preacher out in the wilderness. They went to John the Baptist with a simple question: “Who are you?” Or, perhaps, more to the point, “Who do you think you are?”
John proceeded to tell them who he wasn’t. John told them that he wasn’t the Christ. John told them that he wasn’t Elijah. John told them that he wasn’t the Prophet whose coming had been foretold by Moses. Now, by this time, the stuffed shirts from corporate were likely getting a little impatient. They needed something substantial to include in their report. They wanted facts, answers, data, details, explanations, flow charts, pie graphs. Because, armed with the right information, then they could start to make sense of what was happening. “Who are you?” they demanded. “What do you say about yourself?”
But John would not indulge their curiosity. Never once did John give in to the temptation to “tell his story,” or to “give his testimony” about how he came to be known as a “great” man of God. I mean, we all know that John had impeccable ecclesiastical credentials. He had a religious resume that was unparalleled. You know how his parents, Elizabeth and Zechariah, were childless and well into their golden years—how the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah in the temple—how Zechariah didn’t believe it and couldn’t speak until the day that John was circumcised. John had a back-story that could have been a made-for-tv motion picture for the Hallmark channel. But John didn’t speak about any of that.
John refused to give them what they wanted; but he gave them what they needed. Whether he was dealing with people who were hurting—whose lives had been touched by tragedy—or those who were just casually curious—John gave them Jesus. And that’s why I’m so glad to have John as our guest preacher this morning. He doesn’t come to entertain us or to explain away the tragedies that confound us and overwhelm us. He comes to give us what we need. He comes to give us Jesus. And that is all we need. That will be enough.
John came as a “witness.” That’s a very important word. He came as a witness to the Light. He doesn’t talk about himself; it wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t engage in speculation. If you are called as a witness in a trial, you aren’t called to talk about yourself, but about the facts—to tell the truth—so help you God. That’s what a witness does.
Sometimes the truth and the facts are unpleasant and horrible. But we don’t have to be afraid of the facts and the truth. If John were really standing here today as our guest preacher he would give you the hard facts of God’s Law. He would remind you that to intentionally hurt or harm yourself or someone else—no matter how sincere your motivations may feel to you—is a sin against God and against all the people God has given you to love.
John, of course, would make the law personal. He would single you out and remind you that—even on your very best days—you, yes you, are one bad decision away from triggering a tidal wave of tragedy that will forever alter the landscape of the world as we know it. John would remind you that even your most honorable and noble instincts are laced with satanic poison—the antidote for which you neither possess nor control. There, but for the grace of God, go you and me. Those are the facts—the unpleasant reality—the inconvenient truth—that stands behind one of the first phrases you spoke in this service: I, a poor, miserable sinner. And John’s message for poor, miserable sinners: Repent!
John is a witness. He’s all about the facts—all about the truth. Now, if all we had were the hard facts about our sinful condition, then we might try to re-frame the truth to make ourselves look a little better. But we don’t have to do that. We don’t have to be afraid of the truth about ourselves (or the fact that our sin runs death deep) because John also gives us the truth about Jesus Christ—who is the way, the truth, and the life.
John came as a witness to the Light. John came to tell the blessed truth about Jesus of Nazareth—that He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Jesus came for sinners. Jesus stands shoulder-to-shoulder with sinners. Jesus took on our human flesh in a virgin’s womb and was born into our world of terrible tragedies. Remember what King Herod did to all the baby boys in Bethlehem? Christmas isn’t just a cute story about motherhood and childbirth—it’s about the Son of God taking on our human flesh to redeem us by His blood. Jesus comes to us in the midst of tragedy to offer us the remedy of His redeeming love and the forgiveness of our sins. In His wounds—the wounds He suffered on the cross—we can find healing for our wounds.
John came as a witness to the light—to point us to the only one who can save us from our sins. I’m pretty sure if John were here he would point that finger of his at the crucifix and say: Do you see that? Do you see God’s Lamb bleeding and dying? That was no accident. That was no tragedy. That crime scene was God’s plan from the before the world began to save you, to deliver you, to love you, to be with you in your darkest days in this world—and for eternity in the life of the world to come. Oh, and one more thing. That Lamb of God—He lives. On the third day he rose again. He destroyed death. And in Him you, too, will rise and live forever. See how loved you are. See how precious you are to Jesus. See how valuable your life really is. God is for you. And if God is for you, who can be against you?
If you think otherwise—if you feel unloved, abandoned, or hopeless—if you feel worthless and in despair of your life—then your thinking and your perception are impaired. Let someone know. Ask for help. Bring your burdens to Jesus. Talk with one of His witnesses. For those witnesses have light and life to share.
For I am looking at a room full of witnesses—witnesses to the light. You, like John, are witnesses to the light of the world, Jesus Christ. You are a voice like his in today’s wilderness of sin and death and tragedy. No, you don’t have all the answers or just the right words or even the power to convert one person. But you do have a finger and voice like John. You don’t need flow charts or PowerPoint slides. You can point people to Jesus. You can say, “There’s the One for you. In Him is forgiveness, life, and salvation.”
The Divine service is where you get your credentials as a witness. This is where the Risen Christ comes to serve you and give you the facts of His love. This is where He locates Himself for you, in tangible, observable ways that you can taste and see and hear. There is Jesus, in the water of your baptism. There is Jesus, speaking through the mouth of your preacher, declaring you absolved, forgiven, and free. There is Jesus in the bread and wine of His Holy Supper. These are the facts. This is the blessed truth to which we are so privileged to bear witness. Look! Jesus! He died bearing your sins. He rose again, holding your precious life in His nail-scarred hands. He now reigns and in Him you reign too.
There is so much we don’t understand. But we do know this: God is stricter than we are. And He is more merciful and forgiving than we are. The death and resurrection of His Son embraces and encompasses all things. He is the remedy for tragedy. He is our joy on this third Sunday in Advent.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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