John 1:6-8, 19-29 - Where's the Joy in John? - December 13, 2020

On the third Sunday in Advent we light the third candle of our wreath, the pink one. Beside the center Christ candle, the pink one is the only one where there is general consensus over what it symbolizes. The three blue (or, in some cases, purple) candles represent repentance in general. But we get a bit of a reprieve on the 3rd Sunday in Advent, this Sunday has a theme of joy. This theme is a struggle for me. Do you know why? The 3rd Sunday of Advent also traditionally focuses on the words and work of John the Baptist. And if you know anything about John the Baptist, you know that joy is probably the last sentiment you would associate with him. Repentance, yes; forgiveness, yes; baptism, yes; calling people the offspring of vipers (Matthew 3;7), yes; but joy? Ever heard a Christmas carol on the radio about John? Ever seen a Christmas card with John on the cover? Where’s the joy in John?

 

Is it in his lifestyle? We read about it last Sunday in Mark 1. He wore a camel’s hair robe and a leather belt – which I don’t believe found its way into this winter’s edition of Vogue magazine. His diet didn’t consist of prime rib and lobster but grasshoppers and wild honey. He lived in the wilderness. His life was ascetic, Spartan, austere, harsh. John’s lifestyle couldn’t be more different from the kind of overeating, overdrinking, overspending, overindulgence that most Americans associate with Christmas.

 

Is there joy in the strict life of John? Many have thought so in the past. Luther and his fellow monks would dress themselves in rough woolen clothes just to make themselves uncomfortable; they would nearly starve themselves through fasting; others would live nearly their whole lives in self-imposed isolation as hermits. And while some Catholics may exchange their prime rib for a fish fry during Lent and groups like the Amish forgo many modern conveniences, in general, following a strict and disciplined lifestyle is pretty much unknown in American Christianity. But it is still a prominent part of other religions. Some Hindu priests starve themselves, sleep on the floor, and do nothing but pray for days at a time. Legend says that Buddha survived on nothing more than a single grain of wheat and one sesame seed a day. [1] Why? To get close to God, to find joy. Is that what John was trying to do by his austere lifestyle? Did he think that he could get closer to God by his meager diet and uncomfortable wardrobe? Did he think that would bring him joy? Clearly not, because he never once mentions it.

 

Joy is definitely found in God, but you don’t get to God by imitating the lifestyle of John. You don’t get to God by making yourself suffer. You cannot find joy by restricting your diet or by dressing in uncomfortable clothes or by isolating yourself from others (no matter what the CDC says). Those who do are in a terrible place, because the god who waits at the end of a self-imposed life of suffering is not the true God (1 Timothy 4:4), but a harsh, demanding demon who won’t be satisfied until he takes everything from you; up to and including your soul.

 

Well, if joy can’t be found in John’s lifestyle, then maybe we can find it in his faithfulness, right? John was sent from God to be an eyewitness and he was faithful in that vocation. The priests and Levites asked him five times who are you? and John witnessed faithfully each and every time. He refused to take any glory, repeatedly shifting the focus away from himself. He denied that he was the Christ, Elijah, or the Prophet. In fact, he apparently didn’t even consider himself a person, all he considered himself was a voice; a voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’ But as that voice, foreseen by Isaiah, he was faithful to his calling. He was a faithful witness to the Light, to Jesus Christ. And do you know what the single most important job of an eyewitness is? To not talk about yourself! To get out of the way and keep the focus on the Light, Jesus Christ. And John did that job well.

 

So, can faithfulness to one’s vocation lead to God, the source of all joy? Well, let’s just consider that for a moment. Are you as bold as John – fearlessly testifying to the truth in the face of intense questioning or criticism? When you’re gathered around the table (or, this year, the computer) with family will you boldly testify that the real reason for Christmas is not just so that we can exchange gifts or share a fine meal – but because 2000 years ago God’s Son was born in a manger in Bethlehem in order to save the world? Will you, as John did, steadfastly testify to your friends and family that the most important preparation we can make for Christmas doesn’t involve shopping or baking but repentance – including the commitment to leave our sinful lifestyles behind? Are you prepared to commit that at 9a on December 25 you won’t be sitting around a Christmas tree in your pajamas opening presents but here or in another church, sitting around our Lord’s altar, to really celebrate Christmas and to receive his true body and blood with your lips? Or, let’s just consider the everyday vocations God has called us to, just like the Catechism encourages us: “consider your place in life according to the Ten Commandments. Are you a father, mother, son, daughter, employer or employee? Have you been disobedient, unfaithful, or lazy? Have you hurt anyone by word or deed? Have you been dishonest, careless, wasteful, or done other wrong?” (SC, Confession, Part 3) No, you haven’t been directly called by God like John to be a voice in the wilderness. But you have been called by God to be a father or mother or son or daughter or husband or wife or employee or retiree – and above all: a Christian. How faithful have you been to your calling? Can you find joy in your faithfulness? Can you find God there?

 

We all know the truth: if God can only be reached, if true joy can only be found if I am always faithful to the vocation to which God has called me, then I’m always going to be miserable. While John never changed his message out of fear or a desire to be accepted, sometimes I do. While John was willing to lose his head for preaching the Word of God (Mark 6:14-29), I duck the moment I think I might be embarrassed. I’m a husband, father, pastor, son and friend – and I’m a failure in each of those roles. I can never get to God and I will never find joy in my faithfulness. The good news is that neither did John!

 

 

John (the author of the Gospel, not the Baptist) tells us why. He begins by literally writing: there came a man sent from the side of God. John didn’t have to strive to reach God…he started out there. Luke explains that John was filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15). John didn’t live where he did, the way he did, preaching what he did to find joy – to get closer to God. God was with him before he was even born.  

 

And that’s why we don’t find joy in John’s lifestyle or faithfulness but in his…finger. John’s finger is why Jesus said that among those born of women there has not appeared anyone greater than John the Baptist (Matthew 11:11). No one before John had a finger like his – not because they were sticky with honey and covered with locust guts – but because no one before John had ever pointed to that lowly carpenter, Jesus of Nazareth, as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. No one before John had been able to personally point to Jesus as the source of forgiveness, life, and salvation. There is joy in John, not because of who he is but because of who he points to. If I had a Christmas card company, I would depict him with one of those big foam fingers pointing to Jesus in the manger.

 

Follow John’s finger, because with just one finger, John points us to the source of true joy. He doesn’t point you to the temporary and deceptive joy of parties and lights, eating and drinking, but to a far better kind of joy. The joy of knowing that the holy God didn’t send his angel armies to this earth to destroy you, but his only Son as a baby to save you. The joy of knowing that God credits Jesus’ perfect life to your account. The joy of knowing that your sins have been paid for once and for all. The joy of knowing that one day your grave will be just as empty as Jesus’. The joy of knowing that Jesus rules all things in this world for the good of the church. The joy of knowing that when he returns in glory he will make everything right, punishing his enemies and saving his people. And we desperately need to find our joy in the one John is pointing to; because while this is supposed to be a season of light and joy, I know that many of us are suffering under a shroud of pain and loss and darkness and grief. On those days, our only hope, our only source of joy will be to follow John’s finger to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

 

Now, admittedly, I am not John. I can’t point you to Jesus walking in flesh and blood by the Jordan River. But, like John, I must relentlessly point you outside of yourself. I cannot point you to the fuzzy feelings in your heart or the hope that things will get better to find joy and find God because things might not get any better. I must – and you must hold me to this – point you outside yourselves and your circumstances to Jesus. So that when you’re frustrated and angry and tired of all the evil and immorality you see in this fallen world I don’t point to you or to me but to this font, where God himself gave you citizenship in his glorious and never-ending kingdom. When you’re suffering with a guilty conscience over all the ways you’ve failed in your callings, I don’t point you to yourself, to tomorrow, to opportunities to do better – but rather to the Absolution, where Christ himself declares you forgiven. And, when you eventually confront death itself, I don’t point you to yourself or to your doctor or your diet – but to this altar where you receive the true body and blood of Jesus, which is the only divinely authorized and approved vaccine for death. The source of joy is not going to be found in your lifestyle or your faithfulness but only and always in Jesus.

 

And here’s the funny thing, when you find your joy in Jesus, then you start to look and behave more and more like John. When you follow John’s finger and receive Jesus through Baptism, Absolution and the Lord’s Supper, it will produce the same fruits of this joy in your life as it did in John’s. You deprive yourself of money, money you could use to renovate the house or buy a newer car or take a vacation, and you instead give it away to support the preaching of the Gospel and to those less fortunate. You deprive yourself of time and energy and sleep to carry out your vocation in God’s name whether at home, at the office, or here at church. Your lifestyle is odd to the world around you (getting up on a cold morning to drive treacherous roads to church – when the devil and the government have given you countless reasons not to – it’s still stunning to me every Sunday) – and you don’t do it because it is the source of your joy but because you have found your joy in Jesus. And, while you may never be called to the carpet to explain yourself like John was, you are faithful witnesses like he was. You confess your sins in public. You confess out loud your faith in Jesus as the only Savior every Sunday. When you step forward for communion you proclaim both Jesus’ death for sinners and that he will come again (1 Corinthians 11:26). And you live in this strange way, like John, not in order to find God or find joy, but because you know and believe that in Jesus you have God and the joy of his salvation.

 

“But I don’t do any of these things perfectly.” Of course not; neither did John. That’s why John point to Jesus and not to himself. Your joy is not found in how much you sacrifice for Jesus or how faithful you are to Jesus. Your joy is found in how much Jesus sacrificed and how faithful he is to you. See, there is joy to be found in John; not in his person but in the person he pointed to: Jesus. Amen.

 

 


[1] http://www.buddhanet.net/e-learning/buddhism/pbs2_unit03.htm