The Voice

John 1:19-28

December 15, 2024 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Have you ever had this experience? I bet you have. You’re out somewhere, maybe at Kroger or Walmart, and you run into someone who looks familiar. They know you, but you rack your brain and you can’t remember their name. What do you say or do in such a situation? Do you try to avoid them in the store? What if they see you first? Do you do the “Hey, you!” thing? Or are you honest enough to admit that you are struggling to remember their name? It’s hard to practice that kind of honesty because it makes us feel bad when we don’t recognize someone we know we should know. How do you recognize someone anyway? Their face? Their actions? Their voice? What is it that tells you who that other person is?

This morning, as we continue through the season of Advent, we’re continuing to realize that “God is On the Way,” and that Advent is the time we should be using to get ready for his arrival. This morning, we’re going back to the one who was sent to prepare the way, the one who stands with one foot in the Old Testament and one in the New, the crazy wilderness preacher known as John the Baptist. How did you know who he was? Well, he said himself that he is the voice. That’s how you would know him, by what he says.

Now, we know John was not actually crazy, but a lot of people thought he was. No, I wouldn’t call him crazy; I would call him passionate. I believe John sensed that his life would be a short one and that he had a lot to do in that short time. So he didn’t waste time and he didn’t put up with nonsense. He told people how things were and he baptized as many people as he could. I wonder what it would take for us to have that passion, that urgency, in our own lives. Of course, if we do, we might get the same response that John did. Before too long, an “investigative committee from Jerusalem” (Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 37) shows up at Bethany by the Jordan River and they begin asking questions about who John is and who he is not.

John (the author) says “Jewish leaders in Jerusalem” (1:19) sent the committee, and the Jewish leaders he’s probably referring to were known as the Sadducees. They were ones who had the real power in Jerusalem because they basically controlled the Temple; they also were in good with their Roman rulers, tending to choose the “go along to get along” method of leading so that they could maintain their power. And then along comes this Jewish wilderness preacher, saying and doing things that make the Romans nervous. He’s one of theirs, as far as the Romans are concerns, but they can’t control him. They don’t know much about him, so that they really want to know is if he’s a threat to their power, to their status, to their cushy life. So the Sadducees send “priests and Levites” (1:19), “Temple functionaries” (Wright, John for Everyone—Part One, pg. 8), to ask who John is.

They ask about several possibilities, characters who were well known to the Jewish faith. The first person they accuse him of being is the Messiah. “Messiah”—the king from David’s family line, the one who (it was thought) would come one day to rule over Israel and maybe the whole world. Expectation for the arrival of the Messiah was high in this time, largely because it was a time of high stress and high poverty. Every Jewish mother hoped it might be her son. When the Messiah came, it was believed he would overthrow the Romans and establish justice for everyone. Are you the Messiah, John? Are you the one we have been hoping for? No, he said. I am not the Messiah.

Then who are you? they ask. Are you Elijah? Elijah was one of Israel’s greatest prophets, preaching and ministering at a particularly dark time in their history. Because of his faithfulness to God, he had not died but had been taken to heaven directly in a chariot of fire (cf. 2 Kings 2:1-12). It had become common belief, based in part on a passage from the prophet Malachi that closes out our Old Testament (cf. Malachi 4:5), that Elijah would return one day to let people know when God was going to do something new. So, John, are you Elijah? You seem to be preaching the message we expected him to preach. No, John said. He was not Elijah reincarnated nor was he some sort of Elijah figure—though Jesus disagreed and later refers to John as “Elijah” (cf. Mark 9:13). But John says he’s not the Messiah. And he’s not Elijah. 

Well then, John, are you the Prophet? Way back in Moses’ day, when Moses was preparing to die, he told the people that God had made a promise to him: “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth” (Deuteronomy 18:18). They had said they were afraid to have God speak directly to them. They preferred an intermediary, someone to stand between them and God, so God promised this prophet “like Moses” who would speak the word of God to them. John, are you this Prophet who is supposed to come, the one who will speak to God for us? And again, John says no. He is not the Messiah. He is not Elijah. And he is not the promised Prophet (cf. Wright 7-8; Card 38).

So who is he? The investigation committee says, “Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” (1:22). How are we supposed to know who you are? And to answer that question, John doesn’t use his own words. He quotes the prophet Isaiah, who centuries before had talked about a voice. John says, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord’” (1:23; cf. Isaiah 40:3). In ancient times, when a king was coming to town, people from the town would go out in advance to make sure the road into town was smooth. Holes would be filled in, bumps or hills would be leveled and obstacles would be removed. Things they might normally have put up with themselves were not allowed to remain for the king; it was their responsibility to “make straight the way” for the king. Isaiah had expanded on that image in the next verse, one that’s very familiar because it was included in Handel’s Messiah: “Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain” (Isaiah 40:4). And there would be someone who would announce the king’s arrival to the city. That’s who John says he is: he’s the one who is trying to make sure the way is smooth for Jesus, the king who will soon be arriving. He is the one to announce this king. John isn’t doing this work with shovels and levels. He’s doing it through his words. You will know him by what he says. He is the voice.

Earlier in this chapter, in a passage we always read on Christmas Eve, the author John tells us even more directly who John is: “There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light” (1:6-9). This voice in the wilderness has one purpose. He was sent as a witness to the light. Say that with me: he was sent as a witness to the light. He was sent. He did not come to the wilderness or to this job by his own choice. He was sent. Specifically, John was sent by God. Before his birth, he was set apart for this task. He’s not a “free agent.” He is under orders and isn’t all that interested in what anyone thinks of him because none of this is about him. Yes, he speaks the words but the message is not from him. It is from God because John has been sent.

And so have you. And so have I. Now, I don’t know that God chose me to be a preacher before my birth; some might say that was so but I can’t say for sure. I do know God called me to this life; that’s something I have never doubted. I remember one of my mentors in the faith, Tom Rough, telling me in the first week of my first appointment, “If you aren’t called to this life, it will eat you alive.” And I have watched friends and colleagues who have, indeed, been “eaten alive” by ministry. I don’t know if they were called originally or not, but somewhere along the way, the voice they were listening to faded out. And  honestly there have been times when I have been tempted to walk away from this calling. There have been times I have even gone looking for other jobs, only to find out I’m not really qualified to do anything else. Oddly enough, there are very few positions out there where they want you to have a Master’s Degree in Divinity! But every time those feelings come up, I remember that I am sent. I have been sent—not by the Bishop, not by the superintendent, not even by the denomination. I have been sent by God to tell others about Jesus. And so have you. Not in the same way, obviously, but every person who is a follower of Jesus is sent to tell others, to share the good news about this faith you have found. You may not be called to fill a pulpit, but you are sent into the world to live out the mission God has given you. In the marketplace, on the street corners, in our homes and with our families, we are all sent. Jesus’ last command to his followers was this: “Go and make disciples…” (Matthew 28:19). “Go.” That’s Jesus sending those first disciples and us. Just like John the Baptist, we are sent.

And we, like John, are sent to be a witness. John’s whole message was not about himself. His whole life he was pointing elsewhere. When the investigative committee quizzes him further about his identity, John says, “Among you stands one you do not know. He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie” (1:26-27). I’d never really noticed the way he says that before. He says, “Among you stands…” Do you think that, perhaps, Jesus was in the crowd that day? I mean, in the text we’re told that Jesus does present himself to John the very next day. Maybe he was standing there this day also, just not ready quite yet to reveal himself. Did John catch Jesus’ eye as John said he wasn’t worthy to untie Jesus’ sandals (cf. Card 39)? We don’t know, of course, but it’s possible, and either way it points to John’s habit of Jesus-promotion rather than self-promotion (cf. McKnight, John, pg. 25).

We, on the other hand, spend a whole lot of time pointing to ourselves, promoting ourselves. I’m still astounded that people make millions of dollars being “influencers.” They get on social media and tell other people what to buy, what to do, what to think through short videos. The average person today spends about 2 1/2 hours a day on social media, much of it finding ways to promote themselves, telling you what to think, or what they have had for dinner, or looking for people who agree with them. We’ve become experts at self-promotion, witnessing about ourselves.

When someone becomes a member of the church here at Mount Pleasant, we ask them to promise five things: prayers, presence, gifts, service and witness. Actually, as I’ve said before, those five things are really what is expected of anyone who is part of Mount Pleasant in whatever capacity, whether you’re a member or not. But that last one is critical: witness. “In court, a witness testifies to what the witness has seen and heard. Nobody expects the witness to be creative or original…What matters is the vocal testimony of the witness” (Willimon, Heaven and Earth, pg. 79). A witness is someone who tells what they know. John was sent to be a witness. So are you and I. That is our primary purpose.

And we, like John, have been sent as a witness to the light. The author John has it right when he says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). I think about how the last two summers, we’ve had big storms that resulted in wide power outages through our area. No power, no internet, no lights. So we all get our candles out and our flashlights and maybe even a portable lantern to push back the darkness. We need light. There are also those who suffer this time of year from what is called “Seasonal Affective Disorder.” Basically, that means they’re not getting enough light in these shorter days and longer nights. We need light, both physically and spiritually. That’s why Jesus described himself this way: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). And John came as a witness to that light. But people didn’t like the light; they preferred darkness (cf. John 3:19). And so they took the light and nailed it to a cross, trying to extinguish it. It didn’t work, because the light cannot be overcome by darkness. Three days alter, Jesus came out of the tomb and he shines still today because nothing can stop the light from shining (cf. Willimon 86-87).

So I was working on this sermon when news came that one of our missionaries and one of our own kids, Jessie Oliver, had died after complications following a car accident. In fact, what you’ve heard so far was all I had written when the news came. As I prayed for the Oliver family, the thing that would not stop repeating in my mind—which I’ve learned is often the relentless voice of the Spirit—were those same three words. Sent. Witness. Light. I don’t know anyone who lived those three words out more than Jessie did. She gave her life to the precious people of Costa Rica, first with Young Life and most recently with Light House Ministries. But doing what she did there with young people was never a job to Jessie; it was a calling, a passion. It was her joy, and you could see that joy radiate on the times she came here to share about her ministry. I haven’t known Jessie as long as some of you have, but I am thankful to be among those who were, in fact, blessed to know her. She was sent as a witness to the light. And she fulfilled her calling well. Like many of you, I’ve played the “why” and “what if” games this last week, and I keep thinking that the world is a darker place without the light shining through Jessie. I really resonated with what Pam Davis wrote about her on Facebook this past Tuesday: “Jessie was Jesus’ light in a dark world. She dedicated her life to Costa Rica and its youth through the gospel of Jesus Christ. She didn’t step into heaven, she ran in smiling and laughing straight into Jesus’ arms.” She was a John the Baptist for our time: sent, witness, light, helping others see Jesus.

I don’t have any answers to my questions or any of yours either; I doubt that I ever will this side of eternity. But what I do believe with everything in me is this: it’s our turn to step up. Sometimes we in the church at home get complacent because we’re supporting a missionary somewhere to witness to the light for us, on our behalf. But Jessie is with Jesus now; she’s part of that “great cloud of witnesses” who is cheering us on (cf. Hebrews 12:1). It’s up to us now to witness to the same light that sent Jessie and that sent John the Baptist. It’s up to us to become “the voice” in this world and live out her legacy in our own worlds. Sent. Witness. Light.

So our Advent word for this week is “Joy.” I’ve reminded you often that joy is not the same as happiness. Happiness is tied to our circumstances whereas joy is something deeper. Joy is that deep down sense that life is good and that God is good, and so even in the midst of loss we can have joy. God is still good and God is still working out his good purposes in the world, even if we don’t understand. Joy is found in the one to whom John the Baptist and Jessie pointed: Jesus, the Christ, the baby in the manger. The world into which Jesus was born, the world in which John the Baptist preached, was far from perfect. It was broken, dark and unsettling. It was a world where the ordinary person on the street or in the field had very little left over after the taxes and tithes, where foreclosures were common, jobs were few and divisions between the haves and have-nots were pronounced (cf. Nikondeha, The First Advent in Palestine, pgs. 26-27). Sound at all familiar? And yet there was joy. Into that world, the angels sang glad tidings of great joy (cf. Luke 2:10). And into our broken, hurting world, the same message goes forth: joy is coming, joy is here, joy is found in the light of Jesus. Listen to the voice: we are sent to be witnesses to the light so that the world can find joy.

Do you know anyone who needs some joy this season? Do you know someone who “walks in the darkness” (cf. Isaiah 9:2)? Do you know anyone who could use some more hope, peace, joy or love? Why not invite them to come join you in this place, to stand before the manger in these next couple of weeks and see what God has done? Invite someone for Christmas Eve, a time when the church is at its best, a time when we loudly proclaim that God is with us, a time when we are all surprised by the way he came. As the angel said, “I bring you good news of great joy!” (Luke 2:10). So go find someone who needs to see the light and tell them about it (cf. Willimon 94)! Consider yourself sent as a witness to the light, this day and every day. The world is waiting. Let’s go! Amen.