Advent 3 Year B

If John the Baptist were a computer, I’d just click on him to find out everything about the Christ in my life. . .

John 1:6-8, 19-28

John the Baptist is still down there at the river ­­­­Jordan, and everybody wants to get a just a glimpse of him.  His sermon sales have gone platinum. All the big news organizations are vying to get an on-sight interview. You’d think John would be flattered. You’d think he’d take one last look in the mirror and then cooperate, taking this free boost in his ratings.

Instead, he evades their questions. He plays coy with them. They’re pushing their microphones in his face. Who are you? They ask. Well, I’m not who you think I am… I am not the Light… I only came to testify to the Light. Now what kind of answer is that? And then they ask, Are you Elijah? NO!

Are you the prophet? NO! 

Well, who are you?  Inquiring minds want to know.

I am just a voice, John answers. Just a voice in the wilderness.

Are you the Christ? I am not the Christ.

This was a bad move. This was his chance, and he blew it. Just think of all the notoriety… all the glamor… all the prestige that John is just passing over.

Look, says John, you’re interviewing the wrong person. I am not the Light. I only came to testify to the Light. How many times must I say it? Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.

Last week, in my reflection, I poked fun at the Baptist because he ate locusts. But now that doesn’t seem nearly as foreign to me as his stubborn unwillingness to allow himself even a bit of inflated ego. He sure wouldn’t fit into the 21^st Century, would he?

John wouldn’t fit into an age when pop psychologists are buying infomercial time to tell us that our only real problem is that we don’t think highly enough of ourselves, and then offer us ten proven ways to improve that self-image for only six easy payments of $39.95 charged to your Visa or Mastercard, plus shipping and handling of course.

One of the things that helped to put the personal computer into every home are those little pictures on the screen called Icons.

Icons are interesting little creatures. They take up almost no memory. They exist for only one purpose, and that is to point to the main program. They aren’t the program themselves, but they point to the program. All one has to do is to click on one of these little icons, and a great, big program, hidden in the background, opens up just full of beautiful colors and sounds, and all kinds of capabilities.  You see icons don’t exist for themselves. In fact, you could delete them entirely, and it wouldn’t hurt the program a bit. But they make life a little easier because you don’t have to search for the program. The icon makes it easier for just about anyone to find it.

John the Baptist is a living, breathing icon for Jesus; he sees his one function in life to be pointer to the Christ. I am not the light. I came to testify, to point to the light. I’m not the program, but I’d be honored to help launch the program.  It is in that service that he finds his joy. John reminds us that our baptism calls us to be willing to live in the season of Advent for however long it takes for others to find Christmas!

Among you stands one whom you do not know… the one who comes after me; I am unworthy to untie the thong of his sandal.

You have to wonder about a man with the largest following in the district; who could have had his picture on the front of the Jerusalem Review; who could have been elected Man of the Year by The Judean Times; who could have had his picture on a Wheaties box and his name in lights. Here’s a person at the height of his career and what does he say in effect?

There’s someone else, a literal unknown, and he’s so important that I should feel privileged just to be able to take his shoes off.  He’s the Light of the world. Not me!

Here we are in the middle of Advent…. The Rose candle of 

Joy will be glowing before us this week. We can be joyful because we have one over on those first century folks who went out there to ask John all those questions. We already know Jesus. We already know how important he is and what he can do. But do you know what? There’s a voice, the haunting voice of Advent. It’s still shouting at us. Can you hear it? It’s saying, it’s not enough to Know Jesus. In fact, knowing Jesus doesn’t mean anything unless we are willing to MAKE HIM KNOWN… unless we flip the switch and turn on the Light for others.

The wisdom of our age commands us to KNOW WHO WE ARE, andJohn’s response to that is that before we can know who we are, we must KNOW WHO WE ARE NOT. We are reminded this Third Sunday of Advent that one way to prepare for the coming of the Messiah is to let go of the Messiah Complex.

I remember plowing through my ministry at top speed with the feeling that I could heal everyone and fix everything, do everything well and be well-liked by everyone. James Thurber illustrated just how the Messiah Complex works in one of his famous cartoons:

There’s a man who is looking out a window with buckets and buckets of water around him.  His wife, who is on the telephone says, But doctor, he’s convinced that only HE can prevent forest fires.

There’s only one Savior of the world, and IT’S NOT ME!

There’s only One to whom the Gospels testify, and IT’S NOT ME!

There’s only One deserving of the worship of all people everywhere, and IT’S NOT ME, and it’s not you.

So, who are we?  What is the highest office we can aspire to hold in the Kingdom? I believe it’s the office of the ICON, to be another voice in the wilderness who draws attention to the Master.

John the Baptist is just such an icon, but he is also an icon of who we’re supposed to be. That’s why the church has John shouting at us through the dead parts of our lives two weeks in a row this Advent.

Somewhere I remember reading that the mission of the Space Shuttle Endeavor cost over 600 million dollars, and it almost failed because of some small mirrors that couldn’t properly reflect light. I think there’s a parable in there somewhere for us this Third Sunday of Advent. 

We proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God, the Messiah, the Christ, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Jesus should be the one everybody wants to interview. Jesus should have his picture on every magazine and on every T.V. screen. The Name above all names should be the name in lights on every boulevard corner. But that’s not the way it is… is it?  What happened?  Something has gone wrong with our reflectors.

REPENT is a good Advent word, and to repent means to re-clean our mirrors, to re-point them in the right direction. John knew that sometimes the best way to prepare the way is to move out of the way.Reflected light won’t go very far if we if we block the radiance, and the world needs the radiance of Christ.

I came across a reprint of an article that first appeared in the local paper in Fort Wayne, Indiana.  It was a story about nine-year-old Amy Hagadorn who lives in Fort Wayne. Amy had written a letter to Santa Claus to ask for nothing more for Christmas than to have one day in her life in which the children at her school did not tease her.  Amy suffered from Cerebral Palsy, and this was her first year in a regular classroom. She wrote:

Dear Santa, kids laugh at me because of the way I walk and run and talk.  I just want one day where no one laughs at me or makes fun of me.

When I read that letter, my heart was broken. I wanted to make those kids behave. I wanted to dry Amy’s tears and fix things for her. But this is one of those things that I can’t fix. It’s one of those things that even Santa can’t rescue, but I did pray for her. I prayed that Amy would get her wish, and that it would last for more than one day. But I also prayed that Amy somehow would be able to know the light of Christ in her life.  

Even though Christ may not be able to rescue her situation directly, he did grow up as a child, and he knows what it’s like to be mocked, and no matter what he’ll always cherish her. He will always see beyond the deformities and awkwardness in her life. He will see right through to a beautiful image of himself. I pray that even thousands of miles away… even in Fort Wayne, Indiana, that there are Christians who know how to move out of the way and let the light shine, living icons whose reflectors are cleaned, poised and ready.  People who actually got the message of the Third Sunday of Advent:

I am not the light… I have come to testify to the Light.