Sunday, December 13, 2020

Third Sunday of Advent, cycle B

John 1:6-8; 19 - 28

It’s not easy to get into medical school, and once you get in, you find yourself in a very competitive environment. During the clinical training years, for example, there is something called “roundsmanship”. As you and your peers go around the hospital with your instructor learning from actual patients, there is pressure to come up with observations you make, or references to articles you’ve read, that the others haven’t. It’s a very competitive time. This sense of competition, of constantly trying to do better than the next guy or girl, is valuable, because a good physician is always trying to become better. But it’s not so good in other ways. When I was a young physician I was talking with a young low-level hospital administrator who worked in my department. I said, “I suppose one of these days you will be running a hospital.” He looked at me seriously and replied, “I’m not ambitious. I just want to make a decent living doing what I know I can do well. I don’t need to be noticed. I don’t need to be someone’s boss.” At that point in my life, this seemed to be a very alien way of thinking. But he had a point.

John the Baptist has much the same point today. “Are you the Christ?” they say; “Are you Elijah?” they ask. “Maybe you are one of the prophets?” And John answers no to each question. John, whom Jesus will describe as the greatest one born of woman up until this time, knows exactly who he is, what he is there for, what he can do well and what he can’t do. He’s under no illusions. He knows who he is, but knowing who you are requires that you know who you are not.

And that’s kind of a problem with the world today as well. From the time we are children we are encouraged to be the best we can be. So far, so good. But if you aren’t endowed with a great mind, athletic skills, a quick wit, today’s idea of beauty or handsomeness, you run the risk of getting an inferiority complex. And if you are really good at something, you run the risk of thinking you are good at everything, and you get ulcers trying to be what you can never be.

John was not a wimp. He was in your face, demanding that you repent. He called some people a “brood of vipers”. When tax collectors came to him asking, “what shall we do?” he told them, “Take only what is legal.” He told the soldiers “be content with your pay and stop extorting people and falsely accusing them.” Being the son of a priest, he could have had a decent home and a comfortable life -- but he chose to live in the desert. John knew that his actions would get him into trouble, but he kept on preaching, baptizing and calling the people to repentance, right up until Herod had had enough and had him thrown in prison.

A lot of us haven’t learned who we are not. If you are a serious member of the Catholic church, you know you are not the pope, not the bishop. Despite their human failings, they have been given teaching authority, and so we should at least know what they are teaching. If you are a serious Catholic, you appreciate the ordering of religious life conferred by the sacraments. If you are a serious Catholic, you have enough humility to follow the Church’s teachings rather than your own opinion, assuming it is different, because you are not the authority. It takes real strength and boldness to have enough humility to accept who you are not.

And John knew he was not the Christ who would be coming along to judge the world. When you read the passages in the gospels about John, he is always aware that he is not the Christ, but the Christ is in the midst of the people. He says, “Among you stands one whom you do not know”. And John knew he was the forerunner, the one who was to prepare the way. And he knew that when the Christ came, he was to step aside. He said, “He must increase and I must decrease”.

And on this third Sunday of Advent that should be our stance as well, because we are supposed to point to Christ, we are supposed to show him to others and then step aside.

And as you know, this is Guadete Sunday, the Sunday of rejoicing. That’s why we are wearing pink. Some of you remember Father Longe. He did not wear pink on Guadete Sunday or Laetare Sunday. He stuck with purple. But we lighten up the purple, we lift up our hearts. And maybe one reason for rejoicing is because we recognize what we are not -- we are not God. There is something in us that wants to be God, but what a relief that God is in charge and we are not. Let us resolve to seriously consider what we are not.