The Birth of 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.

“Now the time came for Elizabeth to be delivered, and she gave birth to a son. And her neighbors and kinsfolk heard that the Lord had shown great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her. And on the eighth day…they would have named him Zechariah, after his father, but his mother said, ‘Not so, he shall be called John.’ And they said to her, ‘None of your kindred is called by this name.’ And they made signs to his father, inquiring what he would have him called. He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, ‘His name is John’” (Luke 1:57-63).

This Solemnity was already celebrated in the fourth century. It has a lot of history. John, the son of Zachary and of Elizabeth, a cousin of Our Lady, is the forerunner of Christ, and he puts his whole life and all his energies into carrying out this mission. It’s going to be a life full of austerity, of penance, and also of zeal for souls.

As he himself said, “He [Christ] must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). This is the process that has to take place in the spiritual life of every faithful Christian.

St. Augustine has pointed out that “the Church celebrates the birth of John as something sacred. In fact, he’s the only saint whose birth is celebrated; we celebrate the birth of John and the birth of Christ” (Augustine, Sermon 293).

At the Entrance Antiphon of the Mass today, we’re told, “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, and to make ready for the Lord a people prepared” (John 1:6-7).

John is the last of the prophets of the Old Testament, and the first to draw our attention to the Messiah. His birth that we celebrate today “brought great rejoicing” (Roman Missal, Preface of St. John the Baptist) to all those who were going to get to know Christ through his preaching.

He was like the dawn that announces the coming of the day. “His birth brought great rejoicing; even in the womb he leapt for joy at the coming of human salvation. He alone of all the prophets pointed out the Lamb of Redemption” (ibid.).

St. Luke emphasizes the time of his appearing, at a very definite moment in history: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee…” (Luke 3:1). John turns out to be the dividing line between the two Testaments.

His preaching is “the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1), and his martyrdom foretells the Savior’s Passion (cf. Matt. 17:12-13).

In spite of all this, St. Augustine says John’s was a passing voice; Christ was the eternal Word from the beginning (Augustine, op. cit.).

None of the evangelists have any hesitation in applying to John the beautiful prayer of Isaiah (Isa. 40:3): “Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who shall prepare your way; the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight” (Mark 1:2-3).

The prophet Isaiah refers first of all to the return of the Jews to Palestine after their captivity in Babylon. He sees Yahweh as the King and Redeemer of His people, walking at their head through the Syrian desert, after so many years in exile, and leading them with sure step back to their native land.

A herald goes before him, as was the ancient custom at the time, to announce his arrival and to see to the repair of the roads, the condition of which in those days nobody was really concerned about, except in very special circumstances.

As well as being fulfilled on their return from exile, this prophecy was to take on a still fuller and more profound meaning when it was to be fulfilled a second time with the coming of the Messianic era.

Our Lord too was to have His herald in the person of the Precursor, who would go before Him, preparing the hearts of those to whom the Redeemer would soon be reaching out.

On the Solemnity of his birth, as we contemplate this great figure of John the Baptist, who fulfilled his mission so faithfully, we could ask ourselves if we too make straight the ways of the Lord, so that He might enter into the souls of our friends and relatives who might be still far away from Him, and so that those who are already close to Him might get to know Him more fully.

As John was the Precursor of the Lord, as Christians we are the forerunners of Christ in today’s world.

In The Forge, we’re told by St. Josemaría, “The Lord uses us as torches to make that light shine out. … Much depends on us; if we respond, many people will remain in darkness no longer, but walk instead along paths that lead to eternal life” (Josemaría Escrivá, The Forge, Point 1).

We have a certain period of time in which to make all of this happen. Every time that we hear of the passing of somebody, it can be like a wake-up call to us to come back and focus a little more on our mission, because that moment will come for us also, when our time, our opportunities for earning, are finished.

Our mission, like John’s, is to prepare men’s hearts so that Christ may enter in. The main feature of John’s mission is that of he who prepares the way, the one who goes ahead to foretell the coming of the other.

In St. John’s Gospel we’re told: “He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but he came to bear witness to the light” (John 1:7-8).

The whole purpose of our life as Christians is to bear witness. St. Josemaría says the Lord uses us “as torches”—our words, our example, our family, our unity of life, our virtue.

These very words that we've just read in St. John’s Gospel are written by the very disciple who met Jesus as a result of the specific preparation and indications that he received from John the Baptist.

We’re told, “The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples; and he looked at Jesus as he walked and said, ‘Behold the Lamb of God!’” (John 1:35-36).

John could not have had any idea of how his words would be taken up in the Mass and repeated at every single Mass in every language for all time all over the planet. It’s an example of how God can take little words, little phrases that we may utter under the influence of the Holy Spirit and make those words reverberate in souls for all eternity.

“The two disciples heard him say these words, and they followed Jesus” (John 1:37). At the end of his life, St. John must have had some wonderful memories. He must have been immensely grateful for the fact that John said those words.

He likes to recall in his Gospel the time he spent with John the Baptist, who was the instrument used by the Holy Spirit to bring him to Jesus, his treasure and his life.

Imagine if John had not fulfilled that role. Imagine if he had not said the words to St. John that he should have said.

Imagine if he was not in that particular place at that particular moment in time when God wanted him to be there. In giving us our mission, Our Lord has also given us a great responsibility to be where we’re supposed to be, to speak the words we’re supposed to speak.

John the Baptist’s preaching was in perfect harmony with his austere and mortified life. He ceaselessly proclaimed: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matt. 3:2).

Those words, accompanied by his exemplary life, made a great impression on the whole district. Soon he was surrounded by a large group of disciples ready to listen to his teachings.

We could ask Our Lord that we might have that unity of life, that our family, among our friends, in our neighborhood, in our profession, people, might see authentic virtue in our life—Christian virtue put into practice, faith put into practice.

There was a strong religious movement at that time that stirred the whole of Palestine, because people then, just like today, were thirsting for God. Their expectation of the coming of the Messiah was very strong.

We see proof around us all the time of how people are also hungry for God. They’re looking for answers. They’re looking for truth, for beauty, for love, for the things that can only be found in Christ.

St. Matthew and St. Mark say that people came from everywhere: from Jerusalem, from all the towns of Judea (Matt. 3:5; Mark 1:5).

They came also from Galilee, because it was there that Our Lord met his first disciples, who were themselves from Galilee (John 1:40-42).

To the men sent from the Sanhedrin, John makes himself known with the words of Isaiah: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness” (John 1:23, Isa. 40:3).

He gave testimony of the truth through his life and his words. He showed no signs of being overawed by those who were in power. He was never influenced or in any way affected by the praise and adulation of the crowds.

He never gave in to the constant pressure of the Pharisees. He gave his life defending God’s law against all human convention.

He told Herod: “It’s not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife” (Mark 6:18). John, in reality, had very little power with which to oppose such a personality. There was a limit to the distance that his voice could reach so as to prepare, for the Messiah, a people well disposed.

But God’s word gathered strength on his lips. In the Second Reading of the Mass, the Liturgy applies to John the Baptist the words of the prophet Isaiah: “He made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shadow of his hand he hid me” and while Isaiah is thinking, “I have labored in vain, I spent my strength for nothing and vanity,” God says to him: “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Isa. 49:2,4,6).

Like John the Baptist, God wants us to make Him manifest through our conduct and our words precisely there where we have our work, our family, our friendships, our business affairs, in the laboratory, in the university…even though it might seem that the field of our apostolate is restricted.

Our Lord is entrusting us now, in our own days, with the same mission that He entrusted to St. John the Baptist: to prepare the way of the Lord, to be His heralds, to open up people’s hearts for His arrival.

Consistency between our teaching and our behavior is the very proof of our conviction and of the validity of what we proclaim. It’s often the one essential condition for talking to people about God: credibility.

John said, “He must increase” (John 3:30). Christ must always be on the increase in our lives while our own estimation of ourselves and of what we’re worth should decrease.

Lord, give us the grace to have a greater awareness of our nothingness, our miseries, our wretchedness, of where we would be if you were ever to let us go from your hand, or if we were to let go of your hand.

The mission of the forerunner is to disappear, to take second place, when the one he announces has arrived. There are many examples of great men in history who knew how to fulfill well that role of being in second place, and also who knew well how to disappear at the right moment.

John Chrysostom says, “I myself think that this is why God allowed John to suffer an early death, so that once he had disappeared all the fervor of the crowd would be directed towards Christ rather than being shared between the two” (John Chrysostom, Homilies on St. John’s Gospel).

A serious mistake on the part of any forerunner would be to allow himself, even for a short time, to be confused with the one who is expected.

Essential virtues for anyone who is to announce Christ are humility and detachment. Of all the twelve apostles, five of them, as the Gospels mention expressly, had been disciples of John (John 1:35-37,43-45). And it’s very likely that the other seven at least would have known him in certain ways or could give some sort of witness of his preaching (Acts 1:22).

In the apostolate, the only person it’s important to know is Christ. He is the treasure that we announce and whom we have to take to others.

I heard someone say recently how they went to a far country from Rome and when they went back to Rome, they happened to see the Holy Father, and told the Holy Father that in that country where they went, they talked to many people about the Pope.

The Pope said, “No, no, talk to them about Jesus Christ.” That’s the focus we have to have.

John’s holiness, his strong and attractive virtues, his preaching contributed little by little to giving substance to some people’s thinking that perhaps John himself was the long-awaited Messiah.

Deeply humble, the only thing that John wants is the glory of God. He openly protested: “I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Luke 3:15-16).

Beside Christ, John considers himself unworthy of offering even the most humble of services, the sort of tasks generally reserved for slaves of the lowest level, such as carrying the master’s baggage or undoing the straps of his sandals.

Beside the sacrament of Baptism instituted by Our Lord, compared to that, his baptism is no more than water, a symbol of interior cleanliness that those who awaited the Messiah are to effect in their hearts. Christ’s Baptism is the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, who purifies in ways similar to fire.

We can look again at John the Baptist, a man of firm character, as Jesus reminds the crowds who listen to him: “What did you go out into the desert to see? A reed bending in the wind?” (Matt. 11:7).

Our Lord knew, and the people knew too, that John had a markedly outstanding personality quite out of keeping with any weakness of character.

When the Jews went to tell the disciples of John that Jesus was gathering to Him more disciples than their master was, they went to complain to John the Baptist. He answered them: “I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him. … He must increase, but I must decrease” (cf. John 3:26-30).

We could take that as a motto for our life. It’s our life’s work: that Christ should come to fill the whole of our existence.

Hence the importance of our daily periods of prayer, alone with Our Lord, preferably before the Blessed Sacrament. In the measure in which Christ, through knowledge and love, penetrates more and more into our poor lives, so will our joy overflow.

The name John means “the Lord is gracious.”

The whole of John’s life was fueled with one burning passion: to point others to Jesus Christ and to the coming of God’s kingdom.

Scripture tells us that John was filled with the Holy Spirit even from his mother’s womb: “For he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must drink no wine, no strong drink. Even from his mother’s womb he will be filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke 1:15).

St. Luke tells us that it happened that as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, “the child leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke 1:41).

John, who has not yet seen the light of day, speaks by leaping. He shows the way to the Sun of Justice. “Look, the moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leapt for joy” (Luke 1:44). John brings with him a story of joy.

We’re also told that John was led by the Spirit into the wilderness prior to his ministry, where he was tested and grew in the Word of the Lord (Mark 1:4-7). His clothing was reminiscent of the prophet Elijah, a man wearing a hair cloak and a leather loincloth (2 Kgs. 1:8).

“John broke the prophetic silence of the previous centuries when he began to speak the Word of God to the people of Israel. His message was similar to the message of the Old Testament prophets who chided the people of God for their unfaithfulness and who tried to awaken true repentance in them.

“Among a people unconcerned with the things of God, it was his job to awaken their interest, unsettle them from their complacency, and arouse in them enough good will to recognize and receive Christ when He came” (Don Schwager, Daily Scripture, Mark 1:1-8)—all very familiar challenges for every layperson in the middle of the world.

The people recognized John as an extraordinary man of God and a prophet for their times.

We’re told that John came from the wilderness “in the spirit and the power of Elijah” (Luke 1:17). Luke in particular mentions two groups of people who came to John for spiritual advice—tax collectors and Jewish soldiers who belonged to the Roman peacekeeping force (Luke 3:12-14). Both groups were regarded as questionable by the Pharisees, and they were treated as outcasts.

John’s message of repentance was very practical. His message of “good news” inspired many to believe that God was about to do extraordinary things in their midst.

We can ask Our Lady, the Queen of the Apostles, that she might help us to take a feather from the book of John the Baptist and learn how to be better apostles.

We're told in The Forge, “It is not pride, but fortitude, when you make your authority felt, casting out what needs to be cast cut out, when the fulfillment of the Holy Will of God demands it” (J. Escrivá, The Forge, Point 884).

Mary, may you help us to be the same sort of witnesses as John the Baptist was: authentic, daring, full of fortitude, with a great faith and hope in the great realities that are to come.

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