The men and women whom the Bible calls prophets are a varied collection of individuals. Some, apparently, were highly educated, urbane members of the priestly caste and well to do, while others were more like diamonds in the rough with no obvious credentials or background for the role. Some appeared to be part of organized schools, others were charismatic persons who more or less operated alone. Yet all of them, in some way, acted as midwives during transitional times, preparing for the birth of a new age. John the Baptist is traditionally seen as the greatest midwife of all.
Birth of any sort involves a volatile combination of anxiety, anticipation, pain, and joy. It is no wonder that the prophets caused some definite discomfort. It is a tribute to the integrity of the early church and the Gospel writers that they did not try to hide their ambivalence over the place of John the Baptist. John obviously had disciples, some who became followers of Jesus and others who did not. John himself was not a simple one-dimensional figure. He was not simply a rebel although he was greatly feared by the ruling political and religious establishment. He attracted scholars and peasants alike.
Today we read of John, firm in his message, proclaiming repentance, and openly confronting those who reject or ridicule his sense of urgency. We have a picture of one who knows the challenges the future holds and the change it demands and is fearless in proclaiming its coming. In next week’s Gospel lesson, John is in prison, separated from his supporters. The fire has left him. He is full of questions and doubts. He sends word to Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or do we wait for another?”
Note Jesus doesn’t take John to task for his doubts or loss of confidence. Instead Jesus sends a reply to John, “Notice the signs, the signs of a new age that are appearing every day.” Then Jesus says to the people, “Truly I say to you, up to now, no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist.”
Most of those individuals who were leaders in significant transitions for people of faith, straddled the past and the future, never fully claiming that future. Moses led Israel out of Egypt, through the desert, up to a plateau overlooking their destination. Yet Moses could only lead so far. He never held the soil of the promised land in his hand. Deborah, a leader with extraordinary skill, never saw the complete fruition of her effort to mold the twelve tribes together into a lasting stable political entity that both respected individual rights and was a strong protector from external aggression. The traditional prophets, whose writings later disciples preserved, never enjoyed the full fruition of the hope they so eloquently envisioned. Many died in exile from their beloved land.
John the Baptist did not become a full disciple of Jesus. What he later heard about Jesus was from others and not firsthand. He never relinquished his doubts. A dean and beloved professor at my college was said to have remarked that the goals of a liberal arts education were to develop students’ ability to tell wisdom from folly, right from wrong, truth from falsehood, justice from the appearance of justice, and beauty from surface attraction. I wonder if John the Baptist wasn’t a true educator in this tradition. John promoted life long learning for life. He knew that you need to be clear about your foundational values when the call for profound change comes. John never had most of the answers, but nonetheless he performed his role as midwife and Jesus honored him as the greatest.
In one sense Christians living at the beginning of the twenty-first century are living in a long advent of waiting, in a period of profound transition. Our stage is not limited to ancient Palestine or to North America. We have become uncomfortably aware that our stage encompasses the world. Our role may be very well as midwives who stick around for the pain, who understand the anxiety of new birth, who help to bring society from one age to another. We will have periods of euphoria and depression. Most of us who are adults will probably not fully live in the future age. We will not enjoy the result of the struggle, and we will probably all have doubts for the rest of our lives. Yet that is O.K. Advent tells us to greet with joy the coming of the new age. Advent tells us to depend on God’s grace. Advent reminds us that our redeemer honored John the Baptist as the greatest of all God’s midwives, as well as saying to us of future generations, that our role as midwives will be no less honored.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
