SERMON FOR DECEMBER 13, 2020, ADVENT III, TEXT: JOHN 1:6-8, 19-28
     My daughter put me on her Spotify account as a Christmas gift two years ago. Now I can listen to all kinds of music through my iPhone – in the house, in the car, on the rail trial, at the gym. It’s great! Recently I have been working my way through the collected cantatas Bach composed for weekly services while he served as director of church music in Leipzig. The texts relate to the appointed scripture readings for the day. I had heard a series of somber reflections on sin, repentance, sorrow and the longing for salvation, lots of minor keys and plaintive harmonies, when up popped the cantata entitled Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen, “Shout for joy to God in all lands.” As one Bach scholar notes, it is remarkable for its “overflowing jubilation and radiant beauty.”
    “ Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). Today we lit the rose-colored candle in the Advent wreath to mark the third Sunday in Advent, known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is Latin for “rejoice.” We are called to do many things as disciples of Jesus – pray, watch, give thanks, repent, obey. They are all challenging, but I think the one we neglect most often is the charge to rejoice.
     We had a student at the seminary in St. Paul who came from Japan. He was a convert to Christianity, and apparently he encountered the faith in his native land in a form that showed him overflowing jubilation and radiant beauty. Because he was bewildered by the piety he encountered as a seminary student in the Midwest. “Why are you Lutherans so gloomy?” he asked. “You know all about God’s grace and love, why does it not make you happy?” The faculty laughed about that over coffee, but uncomfortably.
     We just heard the story of John according to the Fourth Gospel. He is generally called John the Baptist, and in this text reference is made to his baptizing activity. But it is secondary to his more important role as a witness: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.” John gives a curious response to those who question him about his identity. “Who are you?” they ask. He answers by telling them who he is not. He is not the Messiah; he is not Elijah; he is not the prophet. 
     John refers to the prophecy of Isaiah, citing the exultant passage we heard last week:   
A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
    make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
    and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
    and the rough places a plain.
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
    and all people shall see it together,
    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” (Isaiah 40:3-5)

John identifies himself by his actions. He prepares the way of the Lord by directing the attention of his audience away from himself. He urges them to shift the focus of their expectation. Don’t look to me, he insists. Don’t concern yourself with my baptizing. Hear what that baptizing has revealed. ”Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”
     The story continues: “The next day [John] saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.’ And John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God” (John 1:29-34). It is as if John is speaking in a court of law, under oath to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth as God has revealed it to him.
     This figure of John the Witness comes across very differently from that of John the Baptist as presented in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Nothing is said here about his rude appearance – no camel’s hair clothing or diet of locusts and honey. There is no summons to repentance because the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Nor does he verbally assault his audience as reported in those other accounts: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matthew 3:7-10; cf. Luke 3:7-9). Even the announcement of the promised one who is to come after John is fierce and threatening: “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:11-12; cf. Luke 3:16-17)). So you better watch out, you better shape up, or you will have reason to cry. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Not so with John the Witness.
     There are many compelling portraits of the fierce Baptist, but when I think about John the Witness, I am reminded of a curious painting by Leonardo da Vinci. He presents John as a mysterious youth with an enigmatic smile like that of the Mona Lisa, his elegant features framed by a cascade of curls. His arm wraps gracefully across his body, reaching up so that his finger is lifted heavenward. He is pointing away from himself towards the coming Savior. He invites us to look away from ourselves as well and follow his lead. 
     This is not the face of an enraged prophet confronting a brood of vipers. His countenance is serene, radiant with beauty. His expression of confident joy takes a lot of people by surprise, but it shouldn’t. John is preparing the way of the Lord who loves us; he is guiding us to the One whose mercy knows no end. While we walk in the valley of the shadow of death, we do not walk alone. “All people are grass,” writes the prophet Isaiah, “the grass withers, the flower fades.” Yet no life is lost to God. In the many blessings of our lives – the beauty of creation, the love of family, the companionship of friends, the satisfaction of striving and achieving, the pleasure of rest and excitement of hopes – in all these things we have reasons to rejoice daily. And in the darkest of times – in the midst of things that we cannot understand and suffering that threatens to overwhelm us – even then God holds our joy in trust for us to claim again. Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. This, my friends, is the will of God in Christ Jesus for us. Amen.