Third Sunday of Advent

Years ago, when I lived in New England, I drove into Boston to watch the Celtics play one night. My buddy and I took the T to what was then called the Fleet Center. As we stood in line to enter the arena, I noticed a strange looking man off to the side. He had a long beard. He wore old, plain clothes. He wasn’t saying anything, but he was holding a homemade sign which read, “Repent, the end is near.” Instantly, I felt a wave of embarrassment.  No one is taking him seriously. Everyone is just walking on by. They’re all thinking, “what a weirdo!” More than that, I worried they were thinking, “Look at that Christian. Christians are so weird.” My face turned slightly red because I was embarrassed for him and by him. I wanted to hold a sign that said, “I’m a Christian, but I promise we’re not all weird.” As we found our seats for the game, my mind kept coming back to that guy holding the sign, “Repent, the end is near.” Despite my embarrassment, I had to face a truth. He’s not wrong. It’s not how I would do it, but he’s not wrong.

This morning, our gospel reading talks about another strange guy with a long beard who many thought was a weirdo, John the Baptist. John 1:6-8, 19-28 6 There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. 8 He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.19 Now this was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. 20 He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.” 21 They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” 22 Finally they said, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” 23 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.’”24 Now the Pharisees who had been sent 25 questioned him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” 26 “I baptize with water,” John replied, “but among you stands one you do not know. 27 He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.” 28 This all happened at Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing.

John, a relative of Jesus, plays a key role. He announces Jesus. He’s the opener for the main headliner. He warms up the crowd. He’s not the reason you came. Instead, he reminds you of the reason you came.  More than that, it’s kind of a good cop/bad cop thing. The arrival of the Messiah brings comfort to exiles, as we looked at last week in Isaiah 40 and Mark 1. But to tell people good news, you have to remind them of why they need good news in the first place. You have to wake them up. You have to talk about sin and wrath and repentance. John is the bad cop. Jesus is the good cop. John is not Jesus. John points to Jesus. John models what it looks like to follow Jesus. John comes as the first true disciple.

We always talk about how we should try to be like Jesus, and we should. We want to be formed into the image of our Creator. But in a very real sense, we’ll never be Jesus, right. But we should be like John. Our lives should point to Jesus. Our lives should remind people of Jesus. Even if it looks weird at times, we should point to Jesus. This is our role, the John role. I’m not sure how I feel about that role, though? How about you?

Think of it this way. Have you ever been to Portland, Oregon? It’s a city of roses on the Williamette River with Mount Hood in the distance. I’ve been there two brief times in my life, and I found it captivating. Portland has the reputation of being very eclectic. You find a lot of people in Portland that might be considered strange elsewhere. You might have seen the TV show Portlandia which depicts all the eccentricity of the city. It has led to the mantra by locals, “Keep Portland Weird.” Like any city, locals want to hold onto their identity. They don’t want to become just any cookie cutter American city. They want to maintain their identity, their origin if you will. Keep Portland Weird.

With that in mind, I want to say this. If John the Baptist came to America right now and spoke English, I think he would say this. “Keep discipleship weird.”  Don’t blend into society. Don’t conform to what good wholesome religion is supposed to be in your culture.  Don’t apologize for the gospel or the Bible. Don’t polish your edges. Quit focusing on being popular and likeable. That won’t prepare people to meet Jesus. If you want to point to Jesus, keep discipleship weird.

And let’s be clear, John models a type of discipleship that both his culture and our culture sees as weird. Let’s go through the evidence.  John wore clothing made of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist. He ate locusts and wild honey. What does this tell us? John was poor. He doesn’t appear to have a career. He lives off the land. He lives a simple life. He’s not beholden to anyone. No one invested in John’s career to get him to this point. No one pays John for this ministry. Therefore, you can trust that what he says is real. There’s not even a hint that money has corrupted him. He’s not worried about losing financial support if he upsets anyone. He’s clearly not in it for personal gain. 

Like many before and after him, John speaks out to economic injustice by expressing solidarity with the poor.  He calls people to share with the poor. It doesn’t get any simpler than this in Luke 3:11, “anyone with two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.” Share what you have. All the time. With everyone. No matter what. Also, in Luke 3, when tax collectors and soldiers come to him, he encourages them to treat people fairly and justly. He encourages them to be content.  All of this reflects John’s heart for a fair playing field. John doesn’t want to see the poor or marginalized taken advantage of.

Think about churches in America. We must be careful about how money can dull our spiritual instincts. We must watch out for how money can shape motivations of preachers, teachers, and church leaders. We must ask, “Are poor people a group out there we try to help a few times a year, or are poor folks friends and family members who we live with every day?” Nothing corrupts the human heart like greed. Nothing makes us a callous to need as distance, putting something or someone out of sight and out of mind. John may look weird, but it was intentional. He knew it would point to Jesus.

Beyond his example of simplicity, his solidarity with the poor, and teaching on justice and generosity, John speaks out about sexual immorality. He doesn’t talk about it in the abstract. He doesn’t pick on someone powerless. John speaks truth to the most powerful man in Israel, King Herod. This Herod is the son of Herod the Great who tried but failed to kill baby Jesus. This Herod married Herodias even though she was married to his brother Philip. It was a high-profile act of adultery. It clearly went against the scriptures. Herod had no shame and no guilt over it. He did it because he wanted to. But John knew it was wrong, and he didn’t tip toe around it. When he told the crowds to repent, he openly talked about sexual holiness. He rebuked Herod as a bad example. John was not afraid to speak truth to power. In turn, Herod had him arrested. We should note here that John did not resort to violence when they came for him. At this time, revolutionary movements against Rome and elite Jews were not out of the ordinary. Some in that day armed themselves and were always prepared to fight back. There’s no hint of violence with John. 

Sometime later, Herod got drunk with his buddies at a party and had his stepdaughter (or niece depending how you think of it) dance for him and his friends. This was not a dance recital. Herod objectified her. This was harassment, even abuse.  In his intoxicated state, he promised her whatever she wanted. She went to her mother, who held a deep grudge against John. The answer: they wanted John’s head on a silver platter. Herod didn’t want to do this, but having promised in front of his friends, he didn’t want to lose face. That night, they cut off John’s head and gave it to Herodias.

Yet, I imagine this. While John was definitely human, he did not fear death. After all, he knew it might end up like this. If you speak out to the powers, you’ve got to be prepared for persecution. But John knew that there was more than just this life. John knew that death comes for us all. John knew that we all will appear before the judgment seat of God. John was not afraid to talk about judgment, wrath, sin, and repentance. John practiced what he preached. He sought the fruit he spoke of. He was prepared to meet God, just as he called others to be.

John was weird, and he taught us that being a disciple of Jesus will sometimes be weird. Consider our list of weird this morning: Simplicity. No desire to get rich. No desire to buy fancy clothes or fancy food. Solidarity with the poor. Not beholden to anyone. Commitment to generosity. Passionate about justice. Taught others to share and be content. At least some evidence of a commitment to nonviolence. Commitment to sexual holiness. Not afraid to speak truth to power. Called all people to repent, submit to baptism, and prepare for the coming wrath.  When all of this gets dangerous, he doesn’t back down. He ends up getting killed because of a drunken, lustful king and a vengeful woman.  This was the life of John. It was weird, but he showed himself to be a faithful disciple. While he died before his time, he fulfilled his mission. He prepared the way for Jesus. He pointed to Christ. His disciples became disciples of Jesus. John was not the light, but he pointed to the light.

We need more light today. We need more Jesus. So to get more of Jesus, I submit that we need more people like John. We need more weird disciples. There’s a verse that’s been on my mind the last two weeks as I’ve thought of John. Paul says in Romans 12:1, “do not be conformed to the patterns of this world.” John never conformed.  We should never conform.

This world wants to tame our faith. This world wants to water down and minimize what we mean by discipleship. Our culture wants to Americanize it. They want to tame it by molding it into the image of a good Republican or a good Democrat. They want to make Christianity a respectable modern religion.  They want to make discipleship something that gets respect and adoration in the NYTimes and Wall Street Journal and on Twitter and on Hollywood awards shows.  Let’s not fall for that temptation.

Let’s keep discipleship weird. Let’s commit ourselves to generosity, sacrifice, solidarity with the poor, justice, sexual holiness, nonviolence, and a firm conviction that Jesus will come again someday. That combination will get some strange looks. Many will think its weird. But we’re not trying to impress the world. We’re called to love the world. We’re called to sacrifice for the world. We’re called to bless the world. But we’re not called to be liked by the world.  Go ahead and crucify that desire. We’re not trying to be popular. We’re trying to be faithful. 

I used to worry that people would think I was weird. Growing up, we don’t want to be called that, right? But that’s not my biggest fear now. My biggest fear is that Jesus will return someday and find that I’m not very weird and not a very faithful disciple, just a respectable American religious person. 

As we prepare for the arrival of Jesus, look in the mirror. How conformed to the world are you? Let’s not conform. Let’s not fit in. Let’s stay weird, like John, and like Jesus.