The Third Sunday of Advent
December 14, 2014
Listen to this homily! (.mp3
file)
In the early 1500’s, a gifted German artist by the name of Matthias Grünewald
painted an altarpiece of great power and beauty. So powerful and beautiful
is it that, 500 years later, people still travel across the world to the small
French village of Colmar to see it. At the center of the Grünewald altarpiece is
the crucified Christ whose unspeakable sufferings are echoed in the
compassionate faces of Mary his mother, Mary Magdalene and the beloved disciple.
Off to the side is John the Baptist. Holding the holy Scriptures in one
hand, he points intently to Christ with the index finger of the other. For
all its anachronism (John the Baptist, after all, never lived to stand near the
cross of Christ), there is in this great painting a powerful presentation of
John the Baptist and his role – this mysterious man who came from God to do one
thing only: to point to the light. “He was not the light,” we heard in
today’s gospel, “He was not the light but he came to give witness to the Light.”
Now you are probably aware that we at St. James don’t
need to go all the way to France to see John the Baptist depicted in a notable
work of art. We have only to climb the few steps to the cathedral chapel
to see our own fifteenth century Renaissance altarpiece. Believe it or
not, our altarpiece actually predates the Grünewald one by some fifty years.
Near the center of it is John the Baptist, a scroll in one hand proclaiming
“Behold the Lamb of God,” and the index finger of the other hand pointing to
Jesus – not the crucified Jesus, but the tiny child Jesus about to nurse at his
mother’s breast.
Our painting is no less anachronistic than the
Grünewald one for John the Baptist was not that mature, rather scraggly figure
at the time Jesus was cradled in his mother’s arms. But no matter: it is
the Baptist’s call that counts – his vocation to point to the Light. And
that vocation is a timeless one.
Each year during Advent, it is the Church that points
to John the Baptist, as if to say to us: there is a model for you, a model for
how you are to live out your Christian calling. Like John, we are all to
be witnesses. Like John, we are not the Light, but point to the Light we
must.
This time of year as I reflect on John the Baptist, I
find myself thinking about what it takes to make a good witness. Three
things come to my mind. A good witness knows who he is, or who she is; a
good witness always points to the other, not to self; and a good witness cares
more for the truth than for what others think.
John the Baptist was a good witness. He knew
exactly who he was. When they put the question to him, “Who are you?” he
made it clear that he was not the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the one some called
the Prophet. “I am only a voice,” he told them, “only a witness, not even
worthy to loosen the sandal strap of the one who is coming after me.” A
good witness knows who he is, and who he isn’t – that’s the first thing.
And a good witness always points to the other, never to himself. John the
Baptist spent his life pointing to the other. “He must increase,” he
insisted, “I must decrease…I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make
straight the way of the Lord!’” Lastly, a good witness cares more for the
truth than for what others think. John the Baptist, clad in camel hair
(not the Nordstrom variety!) and eating wild insects and honey, always said what
needed to be said, what truth demanded to be said, and then he “let the chips
fall.” One day the axe fell right on his neck. Such is the lot of
the witness.
Who do you think of when you think of a witness?
We all know people who witness to their faith – some very quietly, others more
publicly. I would have to say that when I think of witnesses, many of you
come to mind because of the committed and authentic way you live your faith. I
learn from you. From your witness. And, then, on the larger scene, I think of
Pope Francis as a witness. From the moment he stepped out on the balcony
of St. Peter’s basilica on the day of his election, he has shown himself to be a
powerful – I would say, irresistible – witness to Christ and the gospel. His
repeated emphasis on God’s mercy is a powerful witness, an open invitation to
all people, especially to those on the periphery; his gentle way of putting
people first and of taking people where they are is wonderfully reminiscent of
Jesus who welcomed sinners and dined with them; and his simple, stripped-down
lifestyle (no frills or fuss) -- is a kind of fifth gospel, a gospel that needs
no words.
For me, Pope Francis is a very credible and compelling
witness. He’s the perfect answer to the question, What Would Jesus Do! Not
surprisingly, as with all witnesses, there is a price to be paid. There is an
undercurrent of criticism, carping, misunderstanding even on the part of some of
his close collaborators. But Francis seems undeterred. He can handle
constructive criticism and welcomes other points of view, but nothing seems to
get in the way of his witnessing.
My friends in Christ, during these Advent days we
should thank God for the example of good witnesses because we are all called to
be witnesses, and people like John the Baptist and Pope Francis show us the way.
But there is one more thing about witnessing I need to say, and this is the
scary part that we need to know about before we sign up. The Greek word
for witness is martyr, as Father Lucas reminded us a few weeks ago. Which is
another way of saying that witnesses give their lives for a cause and, in one
way or another, they all seem to end up losing their lives….
Father Michael G. Ryan
