Christmas is just around the corner. I’m thinking of stuffed turkey, cranberry sauce, roast potatoes and Christmas pudding. Suddenly, without warning, I have a plateful of locusts and wild honey shoved under my nose.
“Saint John the Baptist” by Alvise Vivarini, 1475
Christmas is just around the corner. Sleigh bells ring — are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. It’s a beautiful sight. I’m happy tonight. I’m walking in a winter wonderland. I’m skating on an ice rink and taking my kids to see Santa with his bagful of goodies.
Suddenly, without warning, the winter wonderland disappears, and a voice rises from a desert wasteland. It’s not Santa I hear hollering “ho, ho, ho,” but John the Baptist shouting “woe, woe, woe!”
Christmas is party time, but John the Baptist is the ultimate Advent party pooper. Before he is through, our heads are pounding with vipers, wrath, axes and unquenchable fire, when all we really wanted was a chance to join carolers in singing “silent night, holy night.”
The countdown to Christmas comes to a grinding halt. There is a screech of brakes as I’m driving down the highway to Christmas. I see a hippie on the highway yelling and waving and pointing wildly in the opposite direction. “Turn around. Not this way. That way!”
The Hippie Who Needs a Haircut
John the Baptist is the archetypal hippie. He is a Nazirite, like Samson (Delilah’s boyfriend), and so he has never had a haircut (Luke 1:15) to prove his total dedication to God. He has never touched booze. He wears a designer shirt made of camel’s hair. He eats locusts and wild honey — Palestinian sushi! He lives in the desert. His fire-and-brimstone preaching is as severe as his lifestyle and as prickly as his shirt. He preaches justice for the oppressed. He leads a protest movement. You can almost hear him sing Bob Dylan’s anthem, “Everybody Must Get Stoned.” And he sure doesn’t mean getting stoned on dope.
So why is it that every single gospel writer introduces Jesus by talking about John? And why is it that in Luke’s Gospel he is twinned with Jesus even before birth, when in his mother’s womb he “leaps with joy” when Jesus’ expectant mother walks into the room? Why John before Jesus? Why the party pooper before the party?
The partypooper is trying to make a point. John’s life parallels the hippie movement of the 1960s, which, although horribly misguided, in its own wild way tried to make a point. Protesting against the Vietnam War, protesting against the pretensions of elite society, protesting against crass capitalism, the hippies — high on cannabis and LSD — were pointing to an alternative way of living. “Make love, not war,” was their slogan. “All You Need Is Love” was their song.
The hippie on the highway is pointing. Pointing is bad manners, but nobody told John! He is pointing in three directions.
Past, Present, Future
First, he is pointing to the past. Anyone in Jesus’ day taking one look at John would have no doubt where he belonged. He belonged to the world of the Old Testament prophets. He dressed like the prophet Elijah who wore “a garment of haircloth, with a leather girdle about his waist” (2 Kings 1:8). This was the “designer clothing” worn by the prophets (Zechariah 13:4). Just as the prophet Jeremiah was called by God while still in his mother’s womb (Jerimiah 1:5), John was filled with the Holy Spirit while still in his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15).
Just as the prophets began their career when the word of the Lord came to them, Luke introduces John’s ministry with the catchphrase “the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness” (Luke 3:2). In Zechariah’s song, “The Benedictus,” John is called “the prophet of the Most High” (Luke 1:76). On one occasion, Jesus tells the crowds that John is “more than a prophet” (Luke 7:26). But why did Jesus need a prophet to introduce him? And why did John need to point to his prophetic predecessors from Israel’s past?
Several self-proclaimed messiahs were mucking around in Jesus’ day. All of them claimed to be men of God sent by God. There was one sure way of checking the DNA of the Messiah. If his life was the fulfillment of prophecies made hundreds of years ago, you could be sure that this was no Johnny-come-lately but indeed the long-awaited Messiah of whom the prophets had spoken. Sure enough, the gospel writers understood Jesus’ entire life — His birth, ministry, death and resurrection — as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. Let’s look at only His birth.
Isaiah of Jerusalem prophesied that the Messiah would be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14, Matthew 1:23). Micah prophesied that he would be born in Bethlehem, one of the most insignificant towns in Judah (Micah 5:2, Matthew 2:6). Isaiah prophesied that gifts of gold and incense would be gifted to the Messiah (Isaiah 60:6, Matthew 2:11). Hosea prophesied that the Messiah would have to flee into Egypt (Hosea 11:1, Matthew 2:15). Jeremiah prophesied that innocent babies would be slaughtered (Jeremiah 31:15, Matthew 2:18). Malachi, the last Old Testament prophet, prophesied the coming of John the Baptist (Malachi 3:11, Luke 7:27–8).
In pointing to the past, the Advent hippie on the Christmas highway is clearly part of the good news of salvation, fulfilling the word of the prophets.
While one hand is pointing to the past, the other hand is pointing to the present. While one hand is pointing to the Old Testament with its prophecies and promises, the other hand is pointing to Jesus as the fulfillment of those prophecies and promises. Luke’s Gospel develops an impressive parallelism between John and Jesus. He brings both mothers — Elizabeth and Mary — together. Both John and Jesus are conceived in “barren” wombs. Both have their births announced by an angel. Both are in the desert. Both preach the good news. As the bridge between the Old Testament and the New Testament and as the midpoint of history, John the Baptist is pointing to Jesus, Who is the high point of history.
“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him” (John 1:6–7). What a simple statement from the eloquent prologue of John’s Gospel! John is in the business of pointing people to the Messiah. His proclamation “Behold the Lamb of God” (John 1:36) is a theme superbly highlighted in El Greco’s painting of John the Baptist.
Pieter Bruegel’s painting of ‘The Preaching of John the Baptist’
But, more importantly, John is also in the business of preparing people for the coming of the Messiah. All four Gospel writers apply Isaiah’s great prophecy to the ministry of John the Baptist. His is “the voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” John is preparing people for the Messiah by calling them to repentance. He points his finger at the crowds who have come for baptism.
“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee God’s coming wrath? Prove by the way you live that you have repented of your sins and turned to God. Don’t just say to each other, ‘We’re safe, for we are descendants of Abraham.’ That means nothing, for I tell you, God can create children of Abraham from these very stones” (Luke 3:7–8). In other words, don’t think your religion will save you!
He points his finger at Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee, for committing adultery with Herodias, his brother’s wife, and for many other wrongs he had done (Luke 3:19). But pointing can get you into big trouble. John the Baptist is ultimately beheaded by Herod.
John’s actions are along the lines of the Old Testament prophets, who time and again confronted kings and commoners with the word of the Lord, calling them to repentance. Remember the prophet Nathan pointing his finger at David after he had committed adultery?
Repent!
Suddenly, the hippie on the highway turns his finger around and points it at you and at me, exclaiming “Shuv!” in Hebrew. He’s telling us to make a 180-degree turn! “Turn” is what the Hebrew word “repent” literally means. This is where the party pooper spoils our Christmas revelry. This is when Advent begins to sound like Lent with its sackcloth and ashes. “Repent!”
The Greek word for “repentance” (metanoia) is best understood as a change of mind leading to a change of behavior. The English word “repent” skews the meaning slightly because it conveys a sense of remorse. But the biblical sense is clear. Think differently! Live differently! Yes, transform like many did during the hippie movement — live an alternative lifestyle, point to a different reality, and march to the beat of a different drummer.
Perhaps John has ruined your Christmas party. It need not be so. You can still have the best Christmas celebration with the best Advent preparation. Mary’s response was a leap of faith. John’s response was a leap of joy. John is not such a killjoy after all. By pointing to Jesus, John is proclaiming good news. This is “good news of great joy,” as the angel said to the shepherds.
Jesus, My Joy
It is this sense of supreme joy that would compel Sir Alec Guinness, this most reserved and private of superstars, to run through a street in London and fall on his knees. In his autobiography, Blessings in Disguise, the actor described one such scene:
I was walking up Kingsway in the middle of an afternoon when an impulse compelled me to start running. With joy in my heart, and in a state of almost sexual excitement, I ran until I reached the little Catholic church there … which I had never entered before; I knelt; caught my breath, and for 10 minutes was lost to the world.
Sir Alec Guinness
Guinness was at a loss to explain his actions. He finally decided it was a “rather nonsensical gesture of love,” an outburst of great joy for his faith in Jesus Christ. The actor dashed into that church when he converted from atheism to Christianity not long after, on March 24, 1956.
It is this supreme joy that gripped C.S. Lewis, professor of English literature at Oxford, while he was still an atheist. His autobiography, Surprised by Joy, is the story of his conversion to Christ.
It is this supreme joy that gripped Johann Sebastian Bach, as he wrote “Jesu, Meine Freude” (Jesus, My Joy) one of his greatest motets, and “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” one of his best chorales.
Alec Guinness, C.S. Lewis and J.S. Bach had one thing in common. They had all discovered that life does not have a point unless it points to something, and the point of everything is God.
My prayer this Advent is that we will be surprised by unspeakable joy as we discover the direction in which the hippie on the highway is pointing.
We will soon be singing the hymn composed by Isaac Watts, known as the father of English hymnody. Watts based his famous Christmas hymn on a Christian interpretation of Psalm 98:
Joy to the world, the Lord is come.
Let earth receive her King!
Let every heart prepare Him room
And heaven and nature sing!
Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns.
Let men their songs employ
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy.