The Unimportant (John 1:16-27, Isaiah 40:3)
We are the unimportant. Those who live day to day, without much hope for tomorrow. We listen to prophets, longing to hear of a life, any life, better than what we have.
We are stepped on by Romans and puppet kings. If the empire desecrating our land were not
here, another would be.
And we watch him.
The authorities seem curious. Why
does this one stand waist deep in the water and baptize? Why does he call out to the crowds, demanding
they repent, claiming he straightens a path for one greater?
“Who are you?” One of the priests shouts for a
second time.
“I am not the Messiah,” the Baptist answers.
A few amongst the repentant step out of the water,
onto the shore. Their hope for a kingdom
renewed in David’s name momentarily crushed.
“Are you Elijah then?”
“I am not.” The Baptist pauses before stepping into
water less deep. His wet garments clung
to his torso. “Neither am I a prophet, but I will tell you who I am.”
He is on the shore now, speaking not only to the
curious authorities, but the crowd which has come to him as well.
“I am the voice shouting out in the desert. Make straight a road for the Lord to travel.”
Isaiah told us this would occur. The simple may have listened, but the
righteous have not. When John states an
answer so obvious, the Pharisees and scribes ignore the meaning of every word.
“Why do you baptize?”
“Why do you demand repentance?”
“Why do you quote the prophet?”
So many question shouted out by the wise. So many judgements cast down by the
self-righteous. They have not sanctioned
John’s words. He has never been taught
their politics.
“If you are not Elijah, the prophet or the Messiah,
why do you baptize?”
“I bring you to repentance with water. The one who follows me, the one who I have
straightened the road for his strides.
He stands among you. You do not
know him. If He stood before you, you
would not recognize Him. He will become
greater as I become less. His sandals,
dusty and worn, I am not worthy to untie them.
We are the unimportant, who flow down from the
rocks, begging the man of the wilderness to bathe our brows with cleansing
water.
copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr
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