This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have answer for 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 has said” (John 1:19-23).

Flannery O’Connor wrote, “You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you odd.” That quote resonates in the souls of those weary and wary of the world and its cherished illusions and delusions.

John the Baptist comes as an outsider with an outsider’s truth. Things are not ok. Radical change is necessary, but what is needed is a change of hearts and lives in ethics and conduct, not the overthrow of regimes and empires (Matt 3:1-12; Mark 1:1-8; Luke 3:1-18; John 1:19-34).

The ascetic man dresses in wild animal skins and consumes a strange diet of roasted locusts and wild honey. He stands on the edge of the Trans-Jordan wilderness and delivers a powerful call for personal repentance leading to lives lived with integrity and compassion in obedience to the word of God. He appeals to people wearied and impoverished by their Roman occupiers and a religious elite concerned mainly with maintaining their rank and privilege.

John gives concern to the religious leadership in Jerusalem who toady to the Romans in return for control of the Temple and unfettered authority in religious matters. Religious establishments are never comfortable with people offering their faith and allegiance to God alone.

A personal relationship with God is subversive to the human power and control dynamic that always proves irresistible to organized religion over time. Ever since Adam and Eve decided that humans could stand in for God on deciding what’s right or wrong, some people have taken entirely too much pleasure in telling other people what to do while claiming God as cover for their opinions.

Priests and Levites are dispatched from Jerusalem to investigate John. These are sophisticated professionals, well-educated in the law and the prophets. They will get to the truth about this rank amateur upstart.

“Who are you?” they ask John.

The crowds, the persona, the wilderness setting, are all the stuff of celebrity. It has been 400 years since Israel has heard a prophetic voice. John is aware of the speculation about him. His parents and neighbors have told him the remarkable story of his conception and birth (Luke 1:5-25; 39-66). His name meaning “the favor of God” broke family tradition. There was much talk about “what will this child will become.” (v 66). John also knew of the prophecy spoken over him by his father Zechariah (Luke 1:67-79).

The investigators want to categorize and label John, but he will not be categorized or labeled.
John knows the expectations for him and the script the crowds are writing for him. But the key to John’s life and ministry is that he knows who he is not.

“I am not the Messiah,” he replies.

They ask, “What then? Are you Elijah?”

“I am not,” he replies.

“Are you the prophet?”

He answers, “no.”

How would you answer the question, “Who are you?” There are those who want to answer for you. We are categorized by everyone from the government to family and friends by title, occupation, academic degrees, wealth, family connections, social network, race, gender, age, country of origin, abilities, political party, and religious faith or the lack thereof, and lifestyle.

Humanity, fallen from the grace of its Creator, is reduced to competition for the finite resources of this earth and its people. So we categorize and label each other by entitlement and possession, by the deserving and the undeserving, by the envied and those who envy, by those deemed qualified and those deemed unqualified. Why do we let checkmarks on forms define us?

The Apostle Paul enjoyed family status, rank, privilege, and religious influence, but came to consider them all trash compared to the knowledge of Christ and having his identity in his Savior (Phil 3:2-9). He appealed to the believers in status-conscious Rome to give themselves over to Christ without reservation, refuse to conform to the expectations of the world, and let Christ renew their minds so that they would know his will for their lives and service (Rom 12:1-3).

Essentially, Paul said when you are surrendered to the possession of Christ you become his will. John the Baptist is the living proof of Paul’s observation.

When the investigators ask him again, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” John replies, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah has said.”

There is congruence between John’s life and his message. He lives simply, austerely even. Power and possessions have no hold on him. There is no ambiguity or equivocation in his brief answers. He is about one thing – preparing the people so that nothing stands between them and the coming Messiah.

The desire for material security and human significance is an insidious lure to moral and spiritual compromise. It is a pathetic thing to watch a witness for Christ sell out or disguise his or her testimony for a title, salary, bonuses, benefits, a pension, a profit or even the approval of others. These are faithless acts, too often justified in the name of Christian service.

When the service of Christ becomes an end in itself rather than a means to accomplishment of the kingdom of God, the servant has lost his way. It is taking the Lord’s name in vain and hypocrisy to use the banner of Christ to mask personal ambition for material gain.

We are who God makes us to be in love, unique and special. We honor what he has made us by being obedient to his calling. To try to be or do anything else is both exhausting and idolatry.

I heard the late Brennan Manning describe the aphorism of an old African-American preacher­
Be what you is

and not what you ain’t.

Because, if you ain’t what you is,

you is what you ain’t.

John the Baptist is exactly who he says he is, an uncompromised forerunner announcing the impending revelation of the kingdom of God through Jesus Christ. Staying true to his God meant staying true to himself. Being true to God was his vocation.

The Quaker sociologist Parker Palmer wrote a provocative book on the subject of vocation titled Let Your Life Speak (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2000). Palmer writes:

Today I understand vocation…not as a goal to be achieved but as a gift to be received. Discovering vocation does not mean scrambling toward some prize just beyond my reach but accepting the treasure of true self I already possess. Vocation does not come from a “voice out there” calling me to be something I am not. It comes from a voice “in here” calling me to be the person I was born to be, to fulfill the original selfhood given me at birth by God.

*

It is a strange gift, this birthright gift of self. Accepting it turns out to be even more demanding than attempting to become someone else! I have sometimes responded to that demand by ignoring the gift, or hiding it, or fleeing from it, or squandering it–and I think I am not alone. There is a Hasidic tale that reveals, with amazing brevity, both the universal tendency to want to be someone else and the ultimate importance of becoming one’s self. Rabbi Zusya, when he was an old man, said, “In the coming world, they will not ask me: “Why were you not Moses?” They will ask me: “Why were you not Zusya?” (p 10-11).

In a world that wants us to be so many things, it takes faith and courage to acknowledge what we are not, especially if what we are not is good in the eyes of those around us. Anxiety and ambition fueled by insecurity may call us to assume an identity, but Christ calls us to turn away from those identities in repentance. He calls us to himself to let him be our life and our identity.

All the pressure is off of the question “who are you?” when we belong heart and soul to Christ, his death accounted to be our death, his life accounted to be our life. Paul put it this way to the Colossians, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, than you will also be revealed with him in glory” (Col 3:2-4).

John knew who he was and who he was looking for. The day after his interview he saw Jesus walking by, and he said, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29).

Lord, may I always live secure in the knowledge of who I am in you, and who I am not without you. Amen.

“O taste and see that the Lord is good. Happy are those who take refuge in him” (Ps. 34:8).

Please note that the content and viewpoints of Mr. Hansen are his own and are not necessarily those of the C.S. Lewis Foundation. We have not edited his writing in any substantial way and have permission from him to post his content.

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Kent Hansen is a Christian attorney, author and speaker. He practices corporate law and is the managing attorney of the firm of Clayson, Mann, Yaeger & Hansen in Corona, California. Kent also serves as the general counsel of Loma Linda University and Medical Center in Loma Linda, California.

Finding God’s grace revealed in the ordinary experiences of life, spiritual renewal in Christ and prayer are Kent’s passions. He has written two books, Grace at 30,000 Feet and Other Unexpected Places published by Review & Herald in 2002 and Cleansing Fire, Healing Streams: Experiencing God’s Love Through Prayer, published by Pacific Press in spring 2007. Many of his stories and essays about God’s encompassing love have been published in magazines and journals. Kent is often found on the hiking trails of the southern California mountains, following major league baseball, playing the piano or writing his weekly email devotional, “A Word of Grace for Your Monday” that is read by men and women from Alaska to Zimbabwe.