Isaiah 61. 1 – 4, 8 – 11
John 1. 6 – 8, 19 – 28
Fr Alex
Today we hear another account of the appearance of St John the Baptist, as he announces the coming Christ. This time from St John’s Gospel.
Two Sundays – half of Advent – are devoted to this moment: we’re being told that something important is happening.
Last week I talked about the Old Testament language, John’s strange diet and clothing, and his new baptism: all conjuring up the foundational moments of Exodus and Exile in the salvation history of God’s people. And all pointing to John’s appearance as a new event of great significance.
Something of this is captured in the response of the Jewish leaders, as we hear today. When they find out about John and what he’s doing, they send “priests and Levites from Jerusalem” to question this new prophet; and they recognise that they need to take note.
They ask who he is in such a way that John feels obliged to deny that he’s the Messiah, the promised one. What then, is he Elijah, come back from the dead? No. Is he the prophet, foretold by Moses all the way back in Deuteronomy? No.
Who are you, then? The one word John uses to describe himself, in all the Gospel accounts, is the “voice.” “I am the voice.”
St John’s Gospel introduces the Baptist right after that incredible description of Jesus: “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.”
Jesus is the word; John is the voice that announces the coming of that word. And in this “I am” statement, the Baptist prepares the great “I am” statements that Jesus will make about himself, revealing who he is and what he has come to do.
It strikes me that so much of the story of the Incarnation that we’re getting ready to hear is about words and voices.
The angel, almost nine months ago, speaks to Mary and announces that God has great plans in store for her; and to Joseph too, in his dream. The angels speak to the shepherds the news that Christ has been born. In another dream, the Magi are spoken to and told not to go back to Herod after they see the new-born Jesus.
Even the circumstances of John the Baptist’s birth centre on words and voices. The angel tells John’s father, Zechariah, that he and Elizabeth, despite their old age, will conceive a child.
Zechariah doesn’t quite believe what the angel is saying: and significantly, his punishment is to lose his voice until John is born – he can no longer speak anything to anyone. It’s only when he trusts in God and does his will that his tongue is freed to sing his great song of praise.
All of these encounters point us to the incredible truth of the incarnation:
That the creator of the entire universe isn’t far away and unreachable; he is intimately accessible. He spoke his creation into existence, and he desires to speak with that creation through conversation.
He wants to talk to a young girl like Mary, through an angel; or speak to rough shepherds in the fields. And ultimately to send his own Son to speak to us; his very word in human form.
But of course, it’s not just talking. John doesn’t just announce the good news when he arrives; he calls people to respond by changing the way they live.
And so many of the great readings we hear through Advent encourage us to be like John the Baptist, and actually speak this good news; not just listen to it.
Last week we heard from Isaiah, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term.” And again, “Lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem … say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’”
Today we hear Isaiah rejoicing in the gift of the Spirit, anointing him for one purpose: to be sent to “bring good news to the oppressed;” to “proclaim liberty,” to “proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”
It’s wonderful to gather together in church and hear these beautiful readings each Sunday. But through the rest of the week, the Christian life can often feel a bit like being a lone voice in the wilderness. Especially this time of year.
We see the repeated news articles about declining numbers in church, fewer people identifying as Christian. For many, the tree will be down on Boxing Day and that’ll be it for another year, Christmas done and dusted.
But I really don’t think it’s because people are rejecting the Christian message. It’s that, for the most part, they haven’t even heard it.
We don’t live in a post-Christian age any more, when people know all the old stories but don’t find them relevant. In many ways, we’re living in a pre-Christian age, when they don’t know any of it at all.
Part of our calling as Christians in the 21st Century West is to keep on speaking the good news of Christ, to keep on proclaiming the new and eternal life he brings.
Let us find a way this Advent and Christmas to be the voice that cries in the wilderness of our modern society that it is good news that Christ is born: that God has come among us to save us, and to bring us to life with him for ever.
In all the darkness and uncertainty of our world, that’s a message people will respond to. Amen.