You Are Not the Christ
June 12, 2022
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
John 1:19-28
19 And this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” 20 He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” 21 And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” And he answered, “No.” 22 So they said to him, “Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” 23 He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.”
24 (Now they had been sent from the Pharisees.) 25 They asked him, “Then why are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” 26 John answered them, “I baptize with water, but among you stands one you do not know, 27 even he who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” 28 These things took place in Bethany across the Jordan, where John was baptizing.
Later in John’s gospel, Jesus had a memorable line that he says about John the Baptist: “John,” Jesus says, “was a burning and shining lamp.” Then he adds, “and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light” (5:35). Again: “John was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light.” Indeed John was. John shined the light and heat of God’s love and joy and holiness and forgiveness to the world, and he did it against tremendous opposition. In another place, Jesus spoke of John saying that, of everyone who has ever been born, “there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11). Jesus said this because of the prominent role that John had in getting people ready for Jesus.
How did John do that? How did John have such a wonderful, faithful ministry in the face of tremendous opposition and great social upheaval? God. The answer, of course, is God. God helped John be John. But can we say more than just “God”? Can we be more specific about what was true of John that helped him do what God called him to do? We can. And what we’ll see is true of John the Baptist, when it becomes true of you, will help you do the things God has called you to do, perhaps even against opposition. As we turn our attention to the Word, let’s pray again. “Dear heavenly Father . . .”
Introduction: major life trials transitions
Sometimes major life transitions we see coming years in advance. High school students start counting down the days to graduation at least by the spring of their senior year and sometimes by the spring of their sophomore year! Some of you right now are doing the same with retirement. You see the transition coming. But just because you know you’re going to drop your student off at college and become an empty-nester, it doesn’t mean you’re ready for the new reality. If you’ve been deployed in Afghanistan and seen combat, you might be ready to come home, but you might not be ready to come home.
Other transitions come upon us seemingly out of nowhere. You’re healthy one day, and then you become permanently disabled and can’t do your same job. You’re married one year, and the next, you’re widowed. Maybe you suddenly must change jobs or even careers to respond to upheaval in the market. Maybe you’re a kid, and your parents got a new job, and you have to start at a new school with new friends. It’s really hard. Perhaps your parents are getting divorced, and you must spend some nights at one house and some nights at another. Maybe you are the parent who got a divorce, and you went to a wedding for the first time without your spouse, and it was very strange.
All of these can cause you to ask this most basic of questions: Who am I? If I’m not in the military anymore, in a rank where everyone follows my every command, who am I the day after I retire, and no one follows any of my commands? If I’m not in the workplace, who am I? If I’m not doing what I’ve spent forty years training to do, does my life even matter?
Some of you are fresh into becoming stay-at-home moms. And you wanted and welcome this change—you know it is a wonderful thing. But the pastor who officiated your wedding never told you it would be so, so hard. You’re at home all day with someone who can’t talk to you; your baby can only cry in different volumes and frequencies, and you have to discover what your baby needs. You think, Who am I now when I change a dozen diapers a day but used to negotiate million-dollar commercial real estate deals?
Right now, many of you will have noticed all the symbols of “Pride month” displayed around us, all the symbols of LGBTQ+. I went to Chocolate World last week, and every package of Twizzlers was packaged in a rainbow. This won’t be a sermon on all of that. I will mention something, though. Perhaps you feel certain urges rising up within you that you know are wrong, but it’s so confusing and you wonder who you even are anymore. And what’s so unhelpful is that Pride month invites you to locate the center of gravity of who we are at our deepest level on what you perceive to be your most authentic sexual expression. Just think about how unwise that is for a moment, not to mention wrong. If we were going to put all of who are into one reality, do we really think the wisest place to put all of that weight is on a certain sexual expression? That’s certainly what we’re all being told.
So who are we? Who are you? You’ll never be able to live for God as you ought to live for him when you don’t know who you are. And not only do you need to know who you are, you need to know who you are not. [FCF] In this passage of Scripture, we see John the Witness knows who he is, and he knows who he is not. And that changes everything for him.
Who Was John the Witness? (And Who Was He Not?)
Let’s re-read some of the verses so I can explain a bit more. Look at v. 19.
And this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” (1:19)
I should mention something first to avoid confusion. There are two Johns. There is John the author of this book, the gospel of John, who was a disciple of Jesus. He spent 50 years or so living as a Christian after Jesus went to heaven, and this book contains his mature reflections on Jesus. There is a second John who shows up some at the beginning of the book. He is often called John the Baptist. The other gospel accounts call him by that name, though in the gospel of John, he’s never called that. In the gospel of John, he’s identified more as John who is the witness. Also, John the Witness seemingly comes out of nowhere—no story about his birth, which is actually a case of form and function working together. John, in a way, did come out of nowhere. Although he’s born into a priestly family, he’s raised as a wildman and lives in the wilderness.
You see in v. 19 that he’s not in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is the headquarters of religious thought. John is like a politician who comes not from Washington DC but from Topeka, Kansas. He’s like a country musician who comes not from Nashville but Detroit. And that’s something of a problem. It’s disruptive. The religious establishment in Jerusalem doesn’t know what to make of him. And this guy from Topeka is commanding good Jewish people that they need to repent. There’s a certain insult to that. I’ll explain. Imagine if after our church service someone were on the street corner by our church commanding everyone who left here today to repent. That’s what John’s doing. So the religious leaders send people to check in on him, or better, to shake John down, to intimidate him. Let’s keep going. Look at vv. 20–21.
He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” And he answered, “No.” (1:20–21)
They ask him who he is, and he responds, “I’m not this guy or this guy or this guy.”
We often think of the name Christ as a last name, as though he is Jesus Christ who was born to Joseph Christ and Mary Christ, just as I am Benjamin Vrbicek, born to Mr. and Mrs. Vrbicek. But the name Christ is a title. It means the anointed one or the Messiah. For John to say he’s not the Christ is to say that he is not the long-awaited Messiah.
I don’t want to get into all the Old Testament passages, but when John says he’s not the Prophet, something similar is happening. There was an expectation from words Moses spoke that there would be a great Prophet, which the passage calls The Prophet, and the people were to “listen to him” (Deut. 18:15, 18). The New Testament consistently sees Jesus as that Prophet (Acts 3:17–26).
The thing about Elijah is a bit more tricky. There are several possible meanings for John denying that he is Elijah. Exploring all of these would take us off field. But I will say this: There was an expectation that before the Messiah came, Elijah, the great Old Testament prophet, would return to prepare people for the Lord (Mal. 4:5–6). John says he’s not him, even though in another place, Jesus says John was Elijah (Matt. 17:10–13). I think John simply means he’s not the actual Elijah.
All of that is interesting, I suppose. But the main thing you need to see is John’s emphatic declaration that he knows who he is not. And even in saying he’s not the Christ, it’s interesting how he distances himself from the Christ, saying later that he’s not even worthy to untie his sandals (v. 27). When you kinda, sorta know someone famous, you probably say, “Oh, I’m not so and so, but he and I are super close. We hang out at work events and had dinner once.” John and Jesus are actually cousins. That’s not what John says. John distances himself as far away from Jesus as he can because he knows who he is and who he is not. Finally, look at vv. 22–23.
So they said to him, “Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.”
You can feel the power structure and fear and intimidation in v. 22. “We need to give an answer to those who sent us,” they say. You can almost get the sense it won’t be okay to return to their bosses with the answer that John denied being people. You don’t go back to these sorts of people without answers, without the kinds of answers they wanted to hear.
So John gives the answer. And what an answer it is! I am confident that you’ve never met someone and asked who they were, and the person quoted a seven-hundred-year-old prophecy and said, “I’m that guy.” But that’s what John does. He’s simply a voice, a voice in the wilderness. The wilderness is a geographic location, sure, but it’s also a theological statement. He’s outside the mainstream, calling the people of God away from decadence, away from sin and toward moral holiness, toward the straight and narrow.
There’s more we could say about who John the Witness was and who he was not. And everything I’ve being saying was not merely academic or theoretical for John. Because John knew exactly who he was, and who he was not, it allowed him to be unintimated by the opposition. Knowing who he was (a mere voice to make people ready for the Lord) and knowing who he was not (not the Christ) allowed him to follow confidently the mission of God.
Who Are You? (And Who Are You Not?)
So the question now shifts to us: Who are you? And who are you not? When I was in school to be a pastor, I had a classmate who got a tattoo on his forearm that said, “evgw. ouvk eivmi. o` cristo,j” from John 1:20, which says, “I am not the Christ.” (If you go to pastor school, you’re definitely more cool if you get your tattoos in Greek, rather than English.) There is a particular temptation for pastors to want to be the fixer, the savior, the Christ. When we just can’t. I can be a good shepherd at this church, but I can’t be the Good Shepherd. And part of my being a good shepherd to you is reminding you that I am not the Good Shepherd, as in Jesus.
This temptation to be the savior is not unique to those in ministry, though. When your life is spinning out of control, part of you wants to say, I can fix it!, when perhaps God is allowing a certain amount of craziness to show you that you need him to be the savior. How well do you sleep at night? There are plenty of biological or situational reasons you might not be getting the sleep you need at night. Maybe you just had a baby, so you won’t be sleeping for months. But there can also be spiritual reasons you don’t sleep well, or I should say unspiritual reasons you don’t sleep well. Those who are not the Messiah but try to be the Messiah won’t sleep well. Those who know they are not the Messiah, but know that the Messiah loves them, might sleep well (all things being equal).
I realize many of you could say Amen to all this. Let me press it just a bit further. Some of you have walked with Christ for many years or more. That’s a wonderful thing. You know who you are, and you know who you are not, you think. You’re not Jesus; you’re a sinner who is loved by Jesus. But I’ll say this: if you can name three reasons why everyone should feel a certain way about every latest controversy, whether it’s about gun control or something in sports or something in medicine, but you can’t name three reasons why it matters that Jesus rose from the dead, then you don’t know who you are—or at least you don’t know who you are as well as you should.
Conclusion: The Lord’s Supper
But the peace and comfort of knowing who you are is what God is offering you in this passage this morning. Look at how the passage ends.
They asked him, “Then why are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water, but among you stands one you do not know, even he who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” (1:25–27)
Here, we must shift our focus away from John and to John’s Christ, to John’s Savior. John told these religious leaders that there was one among them who they didn’t know. He’s poking their ignorance, for sure. But he is also inviting them to know this Christ. He’s inviting them to know Christ the way John knows Christ. John knows who he is and who he is not; John knows he’s merely a voice and not the Christ. But that’s not all. John knows himself rightly because he knows himself in relation to Jesus. The comment about the sandals doesn’t communicate to us so well. We might say that John knows he’s not worthy to clean the toilet of Jesus. And he’s not wrong.
And this is where it gets good. This Christ, this Prophet, the one worthy of all honor and glory, is the one who stoops down to care for the lowly. This is why he came. There’s not a disciple of Jesus worthy to untie the sandal of Jesus. And yet what do we read in the gospels? Before Jesus is crucified, he unties the sandals of his disciples and washes their feet. What a savior! If you know you’re a sinner and you need the Christ because you are not the Christ, the good news of this passage is that you can have him. And if you already have him, but you tend to forget who you are and who he is, the good news of this passage is that he’s pleased to remind you.
We’ll end our sermon by participating in communion. John has said he’s unworthy to untie the sandal of Jesus. In communion consider what kind of practice Jesus has left his church. Consider if the ongoing practice of the church had been that when the people of God gather, we all come forward and bow before a statue of Jesus and touch the bottom of his sandal. That wouldn’t have been wrong. It would have communicated something true. But in communion we have something more than something true: we have the gospel. We have displayed before us the truth that though we are unworthy of Christ, he gives us himself. All of him for all of you, sinners being saved to feast at his forgiveness table.
I’ll pray and invite the worship team up to lead us in two songs. During the first song, a few people will be up front serving you communion. You can come down the center aisle and grab a glass of juice. Then, if you hold out your hand, someone will drop a piece of bread into your hand. Hang on to it, and then we’ll all eat it together. To participate in communion you don’t have to be a member of this church, but you do need to be able to know two things at once: I am a sinner, and Jesus loves me. Let’s pray . . .
Discussion Questions
Did you learn anything new about John the Witness this morning? What? What else do you know about John the Witness that wasn’t said this morning?
When you introduce yourself to people, what sorts of things do you typically say? When we see ourselves as Christians, although it would be strange to do so, who could we introduce ourselves to others?
How does knowing what is true of us help us live a life deovited to God?
How does the practice of communion tell the gospel story? How is it a better story than just saying we are unworthy to untie the sandals of Jesus?
