He came for testimony

The early parts of the four canonical Gospels, each in its own way, sets the reader's expectations that the coming of Jesus is not just the advent of one human among many, but rather an event fraught with historic and cosmic significance.  Last week, we heard Mark get right down to business with the simple and brief but profound declarative title: "The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God".  Matthew and Luke use a variety of literary techniques, including genealogies, prophecies, canticles, appearances of angels and more throughout their infancy and early ministry narratives to help us understand that this event, the coming of Jesus, is the culmination of plans and promises long made over many generations and only now coming to fruition.


John takes a different literary approach to illustrate historic and cosmic importance, preceding the events of Jesus's life with a prologue, a wonderfully poetic theological reflection.





The prologue introduces important themes that permeate John's Gospel, like light and darkness, and knowing and not knowing.  But the prologue also makes it clear that these themes are not just abstract theological notions, but are made real for us by the historical events that the Gospel reports.

The Gospel passage presented to us for this Third Sunday of Advent draws from this prologue, at the very point where the author moves from the general to the specific, from notions of creation and light to the concrete event of the coming of John the Baptist.  Why did he come?  The author of John's Gospel answers that question; he came for testimony.  We know what testimony is: it is given in a legal proceeding, in a courtroom or a similar venue, under promises to tell the truth.  Testimony becomes the basis for judging the innocence or guilt of one on trial.

In fact, trial terminology and even trial proceedings run through tonight's passage.  John came for testimony; he testified, he admitted, he did not deny.  These trial-like statements are made in response to questions from priests, Levites and Pharisees.  We should not suppose that these questions are civil and polite.  This is not a case of students asking a teacher a question.  This is not the harmless question of the out-of-towner who has lost his way.  No, this is a cross-examination, being conducted by representatives sent by the religious authorities.

John prefigures Jesus.  He prepares the way for him.  It seems that one way John prepares the way is by preparing us, the reader or listener, for the life full of conflict with civil and religious authorities that is the consequence of the ministry of Jesus.  Both John and Jesus upset the status quo.  Jesus became flesh, and in doing so, he enters into the world of political conflict.  He will be put on trial himself one day; the verdict will end his life.

And yet the tables will be turned in the end: the death that was meant to end Jesus' career, instead brings about his great and permanent triumph over the forces of darkness.   By the end of time, the prisoner in the dock will be the judge.   What will he find our testimony to have been, here on earth?