Who Do You Think You Are?

Now this was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.”
          They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?”
          He said, “I am not.”
          “Are you the Prophet?”
         He answered, “No.”
Finally they said, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”
John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’”
Now the Pharisees who had been sent questioned him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?”
“I baptize with water,” John replied, “but 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.” This all happened at Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing (John 1:19-28)

          “I am the greatest.”
          I realize that children have an unrealistic sense of reality. They think anything is possible. Young adults are known for a sense of reality that is little more grounded in the possible. They may not think that anything is possible, but they certainly seem to think that they can do anything. The Millennials are as infamous as the Baby Boomers for their hubris. A few years ago, one young pup informed me that I could achieve my wildest dreams, if only I would put myself out there and go for it. More recently, I’ve listened to young writing wannabes pontificate on how their books are going to be best-sellers, they’re going to sell movie-rights that are going to allow them to maintain creative control, there will be a clothing line, toys…you name it. They’re going to be the next Tolkien, or the next Martin. Tolkien is sometimes said to have defined the fantasy narrative, and Martin to have redefined it. I haven’t gotten around to reading the Game of Thrones series, but it sounds to me as if Mr. Martin has hybridized sword and sorcery with the worst of soap opera, and that those who wish to follow in his footsteps (and out do him) are going down the same wide road to a stagnant pool filled with human excrement. (My arrogant opinion only.)
         In contrast, John the Baptist offers clear, fresh, clean, beautiful water. It’s hard to get to. You have to go out of the city. You have to listen to how miserable a sinner you and the rest of the best are. Those luminaries looked down their noses and said, “How do you think you are?” How dare he judge them? They were special. They were worthy. They had good educations, good jobs, good reputations. How dare he shame them? They had graduated from our modern schools of self-esteem long before Oprah preached it and long before the Baby Boomers made it part of the school curriculum.         
           His reply. No, he wasn’t the Messiah, but the Messiah was coming after him. Nope, he wasn’t Elijah or the Prophet. Who was he? Technically, he was the son of a priest, born long after it was proven his parents weren’t able to have children. As the only son of a priest, he was undoubtedly trained as a priest. Street preaching and baptizing people may not have been his day job. But those qualifications weren’t his focus. He was nobody, just a voice with an important message. How refreshing.

          Lord, make me a John the Baptist – just a voice with an important message. Let me find contentment in the message You have given me, not in glorifying myself.