John the Baptist: Freak

"In the 15th year of Tiberius Caesar…"

Luke begins today’s Gospel with a long list of rulers, governors, tetrarchs, and high priests.

It almost feels like he’s reading from a political directory. But he’s doing something intentional.

He’s saying: Here are all the powerful people.

Here are all the ones who sit on thrones, wear robes and command armies. And then he says, “The word of God came to John in the wilderness.”

Not to Caesar. Not to Herod. Not to the High Priests. But to a man standing in the river water, wearing camel hair, eating locusts and preaching repentance. God bypasses the palace and speaks directly to the desert. That’s the first shock of this Gospel. There will be more. But in this passage, God’s voice often arrives where we least expect it.

And when John speaks, his voice is anything but gentle. It’s not soothing. It’s not “spiritual but not religious. It’s a full-on trumpet blast that goes like this: “Prepare the way of the Lord. Make straight His paths.” But here’s the key: John’s fire is not meant to terrify us. Rather…it’s meant to wake us up.

Good place to cry out

You see, repentance is not punishment. Repentance is preparation. It’s God clearing the road so his grace can reach us. And the people feel this, too. They don’t run away. They lean in. And they ask the most honest question a human being can come up with: They say, “What should we do?” And John doesn’t give them any abstract theology. He gives them concrete, human instructions.

Share with the one who has none.

Be honest in your work.

Don’t use your power to hard.

Be content with what you have.

John is not trying to make people feel miserable. He’s trying to make them ready! Ready for the One who is coming. Ready for the One who baptizes not just with water, but with the Holy Spirit & Fire.

And here’s a truth most of us need to hear: Most of us aren’t resisting God—we’re just exhausted from trying to fix ourselves without Him. This is why repentance matters. Not because God wants to point out what’s wrong with us, but because He wants to point out what’s getting in the way of our freedom. Then comes the moment I love most in this Gospel. The people start to wonder if John might be the Messiah. And John does something extraordinary: He refuses that role. Why? Because he knows exactly who and what he is…and exactly who he is not. So, he says this to his rapidly-growing fan club:

“I am not worthy to loosen the strap of His sandals.” In a world obsessed with image, status and abundant self-promotion, John’s humility is it’s own kind of fire. He points away from himself…and right back to Jesus Christ. And that’s the heart of this Gospel. John’s fire prepares us. Jesus fire transforms us. John clears the road…while Jesus walks it. John names the truth…but Jesus IS THE TRUTH.

John baptizes with water while Jesus baptizes with the Spirit who burns away what is false and igniting what is true. And here’s the line that changes lives: The fire of Christ burns away only what was never truly you in the first place. Everyone of us has crooked paths inside. Every one of us has valleys of discouragement and mountains of pride. Everyone of us has places that need clearing, leveling and straightening. And every one of us has those, “What should we do,” moments.

John’s answer to this is simple: “Start where you are. Do the next honest thing. Share what you have. Stop harming others. Tell the truth. Live with integrity. Make room for God.”

And we know something the crowds by the river did not yet know. We know where John’s Road both leads…and ends. A man who speaks this clearly, this honestly, this fearlessly is rarely welcomed by the powerful. John will eventually stand before a ruler who is the opposite of everything he preached today. A man who is not content. A man who misuses power. A man who cannot speak the truth…and a man who is ruled by his appetites instead of ruling over them.

Because the one who’s coming…the One who is already near…brings a fire that does not destroy. It purifies. A fire that does not consume, but clarifies. A fire that does not punish…but liberates…sets free. And if we let Him, brothers and sisters, Christ will make all of us more of ourselves than we would have ever dared to be.

That is the joy of this Gospel. Not fear. Not shame. Joy. The joy that comes from the pulpit, the joy that comes from the river, the joy that comes from the God who still speaks in the wilderness, saying: “ Prepare the way of the Lord…make straight His paths…and let the fire of Christ make us new.”