St. John the Baptist

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

The Prophet Isaiah says, “Behold, people of Zion, the Lord will come to save the nations. The Lord in his glory will make his voice heard and fill your hearts with joy” (Entrance Antiphon, cf. Isa. 30:19, 30).

The Savior is about to arrive and nobody notices anything. The world goes on as usual, completely oblivious to the plans of God.

Only Mary knows—and Joseph, who has been told by the angel.

The world is still in darkness. Christ is still in Mary's womb. And there are Jews still arguing about the Messiah, without any idea that he is so near. Few people are expecting the “consolation of Israel” (Luke 2:25): Simeon and Anna.

We are in Advent, a time of waiting. During this liturgical period, the Church proposes the figure of John the Baptist for our meditation. John the Baptist is truly an Advent figure. He is “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight’” (Matt. 3:3).

The coming of the Messiah was preceded by prophets who announced His arrival from afar, like heralds who announce the arrival of a great king.

St. Augustine says, “John appears as the dividing line between the two Testaments, the Old, and the New. Our Lord himself teaches something about John when he talks about ‘the law and the prophets down to John the Baptist’ (Luke 16:16). He’s the personification of antiquity. He was born to elderly parents.

“As one who is a harbinger of new times, he shows that he has been a prophet from his mother's womb. He is not yet born when, at Our Lady's arrival, he leaps for joy inside his mother's womb (Luke 1:41).

“John is called ‘the prophet of the Most High’ because his mission is ‘to go before the Lord, to prepare his ways, teaching the knowledge of salvation to his people’” (Luke 1:76-77).

The whole of John's life is determined by this mission, even from his mother's womb. This is to be his vocation. His whole purpose in life is to prepare, for Jesus, a people capable of receiving the Kingdom of God.

At the same time, he is to give public testimony of Him. John will not seek personal fulfillment through his work but has come “to prepare a perfect people for the Lord” (Luke 1:17).

He will not do it because it appeals to him, but because it was for this very purpose he was conceived. This is what all apostolate is about: forgetting oneself and fostering a true concern for others.

John was to carry out his task to the full, even to the extent of giving up his life in the fulfillment of his vocation.

Many people came to know Jesus through John the Baptist's apostolic work. It was through an express indication of his that the first disciples followed Jesus (John 1:35-37). And many others were inwardly prepared, thanks to his preaching.

One's vocation embraces one's whole life, and our whole being works towards the fulfillment of the divine mission. God makes the conversion of many children of Israel depend on John's future response.

In his own place and circumstances, each man has a God-given vocation. The divine will desires many other things that depend on the fulfillment of that vocation.

St. Josemaría says in The Way: “Many great things depend—don't forget it—on whether you and I live our lives as God wants” (Josemaría Escrivá, The Way, Point 755).

We can ask ourselves: Do I bring people around me closer to God? Do I give good example in the way I carry out my work, in my family, in my social relations? Do I speak about God to colleagues or fellow students?

While being fully conscious of the mission that has been entrusted to him, John knows that before Christ, he's “not even worthy to carry his sandals” (cf. Matt. 3:11), which was what the least of the servants used to do for their master; anybody could do that task.

The Baptist does not hesitate to proclaim that he is of no importance compared with Jesus. He doesn't even identify himself according to his priestly parentage. He doesn't say, ‘I am John, son of Zachary of the priestly tribe of such and such.’

On the contrary, when he's asked, “Who are you?” he says, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness; prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight” (John 1:23; Isa. 40:3).

He's no more than that—the voice. He is the only voice that announces Jesus. That is his mission, his life, his personality.

His whole being is defined by Christ, which should be the case in each one of our lives, in the life of any Christian. The person who is important in our life is Christ.

As Christ gradually manifests Himself, John seeks to take second place, to disappear. His best disciples will be those who take up his indication to follow the Master at the beginning of His public life.

“This is the Lamb of God,” he says to John and Andrew, pointing to Jesus who is passing by. With great refinement he detached himself from his followers, so that they should go after Christ (cf. John 1:35-37).

St. Gregory the Great says, “John persevered in sanctity, because he remained humble of heart” (Gregory the Great, Treatise on St. Luke’s Gospel).

That's why he also merited the wonderful praise from Our Lord's lips: “Truly I say to you, among those born of women, there has risen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11).

Today, he still points to the path that we have to follow. In our personal apostolate—when we prepare others to meet Christ—we have to try not to make ourselves the center of attraction.

What's important is that Christ should be announced, known, and loved. Only He has “the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). Only in Him do we find salvation (cf. Acts 4:12).

John's attitude is an energetic warning against disoriented self-love, which is always urging us to put ourselves unduly in the foreground.

As we prepare these days for Christmas, we could try to have a special self-examination of our self-love. What are its manifestations? How is my pride? Am I getting to know myself a little better? How can I stamp out my self-love a little more, so that I can approach the manger with a deeper humility?

A desire to draw attention to oneself would leave no room for Jesus. “Though he was by nature God, he did not consider being equal to God a thing to be clung to, but emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave and being made like unto men and appearing in the form of man” (Phil. 2:6-7). He humbled Himself.

John says, “He must increase, I must decrease” (John 3:30). Not a bad motto for these days.

God also asks us to live without ostentation, without wanting to be heroes, not too concerned about our status in society. He wants us to lead simple, ordinary lives, passing unnoticed, and yet trying to do good to everyone and carrying out our duties honestly.

Without humility, we could not bring our friends closer to God, and our life would then become empty.

John reminds us that we have a role as witnesses and precursors to prepare the way of the Lord, to look at the harvest that God has placed around us. Those very people that God has placed around us are the people that He wants us to fish.

We're not just precursors; we're also witnesses to Christ. People have to be able to come to know Jesus in and through us, to be attracted to Him by the way that we live, by the things we talk about, by the virtues that we practice.

Together with the grace of Baptism and Confirmation, we have received the honorable duty of making our faith in Christ known through our words and through our deeds.

Sometimes we have to examine our conscience and see: Are there some of my words or some of my deeds, my behavior, my example, that are not leading people to Christ?

If so, then, as we come to a new year, it may be a good idea to see what we can do about that.

In order to carry out this mission, we try to receive frequently, even daily, the divine food of the Body of Christ. We also receive sacramental grace on us to help us to fulfill this role, the sacramental grace that instructs us in the teaching of the divine Word.

All that has been given to us is so much greater than John himself had, so that Jesus could say, “The least in the kingdom of God is greater than John” (Luke 7:28).

But then, what a difference! Jesus is just about to arrive, and John's whole reason for living is to be the Precursor, the forerunner.

We are the witnesses of what Christ came to do, but what sort of witnesses are we? We have to ask ourselves: What is my Christian testimony like among my colleagues, and families, and social acquaintances?

Is it forceful enough to convince those who do not yet believe in Christ, or those who do not love Him, or those who have mistaken ideas about Him?

Is my life a proof, or does it at least point to the likelihood, of the truth of Christianity?

These deep and piercing questions can help us to live this Advent so that it's not devoid of its apostolic meaning.

Isaiah says, “Behold, the Lord will come” (Isa. 66:15). John knows that God is preparing something very great, something for which he is to be the instrument, and he himself points in the direction that the Holy Spirit shows him.

Pope St. John Paul II liked to talk about “the new springtime” of the Church that is to come in the twenty-first century (John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Tertio millennio adveniente, Point 18, November 10, 1994).

We are gearing up for that. We’re looking forward to it. We have to be instruments in bringing it about.

We know much more now about what it was that God had in mind for humanity. We know Christ and His Church. We have the sacraments. We see how our Church has lasted twenty centuries. There's no other institution on the planet that has lasted so long.

The doctrine of salvation has been perfectly marked out for us. We know that the world needs Christ to reign. We know that the happiness and salvation of all mankind depend on Him.

We have Christ Himself; the same Christ whom John knew and announced. We have to bear witness, and at the same time, we have to show people the way.

St. Josemaría in Christ Is Passing By says, “Our responsibility is great, because to be Christ's witnesses implies, first and foremost, that we should try to live our lives according to his doctrine, that we should struggle to make our actions remind others of Jesus and his most lovable personality.

“We have to act in such a way that others will be able to say, when they meet us: this man is a Christian, because he does not hate, because he is willing to understand, because he is not a fanatic, because he is willing to make sacrifices, because he shows that he is a man of peace, because he knows how to love” (J. Escrivá, Christ Is Passing By, Point 122).

There's a story of three guys who were running for a train. They were doing a project somewhere and the train was going to bring them home, and they were a bit late, so they went running to the station.

But outside the station, there was a man selling oranges and the oranges were piled up in a pyramid.

The first man was running so fast he didn't notice that the tip of his shoe happened to touch against the orange that was in the corner of the pyramid and knocked it out of position.

The oranges began to roll everywhere. But he had gone on already; he didn't notice this was happening.

The other guy who was a few meters behind him saw all of this sort of happening, but his mind was on catching the train, and so he had to keep running.

But the third guy who was a bit further back noticed all the oranges going all over the place. But then he noticed that the man who was selling the oranges was blind. So he got a different picture of the whole situation.

The oranges of this man were rolling all over the place, and this man was blind, and he was going to try and gather them up again because he had just realized they were rolling everywhere.

The third man felt, ‘Well, maybe, whatever about the train! What I should do at this moment is stop where I'm going and help this blind man to gather his oranges.’

He began to help the blind man to gather the oranges. And then the blind man realized that somebody was helping him to gather the oranges. The blind man said, ‘Are you Jesus? Are you Jesus?’

The guy was feeling rather bad. Never in his life had he been mistaken for Jesus, and now it takes a blind man to ask him if he's Jesus. Interesting situation.

Have we ever been mistaken for Jesus?

Have our Christ-like words and actions touched other people's hearts and minds?

Many people around us, we may find, have thrown themselves, heart and soul, into possessing material things as if these were their last end. But we know their hearts will never be fully satisfied with those things. We have to show the way to such people, to everyone.

St. Augustine says, “You know what each one of you must do in his own home with his friend, his neighbor, his servant, his superior, his subordinate. You also know the way in which God provides the opportunity and the way he opens the door with his word. Do not be content, then, to live in peace with yourselves until you've won them all for Christ, for you have been won for Christ” (St. Augustine, Treatise on St. John’s Gospel).

Our family, our friends, our workmates—those people we come in contact with frequently—should be the first to benefit from our love of God. With our example and our prayer, we should reach even people we do not have the chance to talk to.

Our greatest joy will be that of having brought to Our Lord, as John the Baptist did, many who were far away or indifferent. We should never forget that it's God's grace, and not our human strength or talent, that can move souls toward Jesus.

Hence the importance of our prayer. As nobody can give what they do not have, the effort to grow in our interior life becomes more urgent, so that all those we meet and pass on the road may be infected by our superabundant love for God.

We have this time of Advent to take stock, to prepare, to improve our game. Bring ourselves up to a new standard.

The term “advent” was employed by ancient historians for the arrival back to the city of the emperors, after completing important military campaigns. The whole city prepared for his triumphal entry.

The Church is also preparing for an “advent,” a much more important one: that of the Son of God at Christmas.

But He will arrive not in a celebration of triumphant power, but in the humility of a child lying in a manger.

The voice of the Baptist resounds forcefully during this liturgical season: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” This brings with it a demand for personal conversion as the best way to prepare for the coming of the Messiah.

Pope Francis has recently said, “The voice of the Baptist still cries out in the deserts of humanity today, which are—what are today's deserts?—closed minds and hardened hearts. And his voice causes us to ask ourselves if we are actually following the right path, living a life according to the Gospel.

“Today, as then, he admonishes us with the words of the prophet Isaiah: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths!’ (Isa. 40:3; Luke 3:4). It is a pressing invitation to open our hearts and receive the salvation that God offers ceaselessly, almost obstinately, because he wants us all to be free from the slavery of sin” (Pope Francis, Angelus, December 6, 2015).

We can take to heart the words of Pope Francis; maybe see how we can make a good confession for Christmas, or try and bring people around us to that sacrament—maybe children, friends, relatives, or neighbors. Make a bit of noise about spiritual preparation for the coming of the Messiah.

We're in the midst of a tremendous amount of material preparation, but what’s important— we must focus on the real thing.

There was a story of a father once who came home early from work. His wife had just had a baby and he went up to the room where the baby was.

The wife was in the kitchen. She heard her husband come in, but he hadn't greeted her. And there was silence.

So she went up to see what was happening, and she found her husband sitting on a chair in front of the baby in his cot.

It was a moment of elation, a moment of special unity in their marriage. She was thinking, “My husband has come home early to contemplate our baby. He's fully realized who he is I've been carrying for the last nine months.”

She went over to her husband and put a hand on his shoulder in this moment of special unity and he said, “Isn't it amazing?”

And she said, “Yes, it's amazing.”

He said, “Isn't it wonderful?”

“Yes, it's wonderful.”

“Isn't it incredible?”

“Yes, it's incredible.”

And then he said, “Who would have thought I could get a cot like that for 50 bucks?”

She realized he wasn't looking at the baby at all! He was looking at the wood of the cot and congratulating himself on the great bargain that he had managed.

But it's possible, as we approach this very beautiful time of the year to contemplate the mystery of the Incarnation once again, we might not focus on that which is most important. We might not see the wood for the trees. We're all a bit blind in that way.

Each year that Christmas comes around, Our Lord has new graces for us to go deeper, to open our eyes a little more, to focus a little more on the great spiritual realities, and not to get distracted by the passing pleasures and charms of this material world.

We can ask Our Lady, the Queen of the Apostles, to help us to increase our longing for Christ to come, and to increase our effort to bring souls to her Son in the certainty that no effort is in vain in the sight of God.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

MVF