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Chapter 17 of 20

18. Chapter 4: His Testimony To Christ.

13 min read · Chapter 17 of 20

CHAPTER 4: HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST.

John 1:19-37; John 3:25-36. The culmination of the Baptist’s personal experience was reached when, standing in the water of Jordan, he saw and heard the signs with which the baptism of Jesus was accompanied. But still he had a great work to do in bearing testimony to the Messiah. There are three recorded occasions on which he did so: the first when a deputation was sent to him from Jerusalem by the ecclesiastical authorities; the second when he pointed Jesus out to his own disciples as the Messiah; and the third when he rebuked the attempt of his disciples to stir up rivalry between Jesus and himself. And on each of these occasions John not only bore conscious witness to Christ, but at the same time unconsciously revealed his own character.

There are three names applied by John to Christ, in which his testimony is summed up, and which may be taken as clews to this part of his life—the Son of God, the Lamb of God, the Bridegroom.

It was entirely proper that the ecclesiastical authorities at Jerusalem should send a deputation to ask the Baptist who he was. They asked first if he was the Messiah, then if he was Elijah, then if he was “that prophet,” meaning probably by this term the great prophet whose coming was predicted by Moses in the famous words of Deuteronomy 18:15 : “The Lord God shall raise up unto thee a prophet, from the midst of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken.”

It may surprise us that to the question whether he were Elijah he answered No, when on the Holy Mount our Lord identified him with that prophet: “But I say unto you that Elias is come already, and they have done unto him whatsoever they listed.” But John and Jesus used the name in different senses. Besides, John might be Elijah without knowing it. His distinguishing grace was humility; he did not know how great he was; “he wist not that his face shone;” did not dare to identify himself with one held in such supreme estimation as Elijah. When asked to say what he was, he would only say, “I am a voice”—the nearest thing to nothing. A voice may, indeed, produce momentous effects, if it sounds at the right moment; and John hoped to do so; but as a voice dies on the air and is forgotten, so he expected to pass out of sight and out of mind.

Observing his lowly estimate of himself, we are rather surprised to notice the credit given him for not claiming to be the Messiah—“He confessed,” says St. John, “and denied not, but confessed, I am not the Christ”—as if he might have done otherwise, or had been tempted to do so. Was he ever thus tempted? There seems to be no doubt that there existed in the masses of the people plenty of latent Messianic expectation; and one who had made an impression so profound could easily have set on fire this combustible material. Some of John’s adherents may have hoped that he would do so. Perhaps also there may have been a time when he had not yet become conscious of the limits of his own commission—before he was specifically informed of the part he was to play as the forerunner of Him who was to come. But if ever any such ambitious ideas had harbored in his mind or been pressed upon him by others, he was able at the proper moment to divest himself of them; and at last he trampled them beneath his feet.

“I am not the Christ,” he said with decision; “but,” he added, “there standeth One among you whom ye know not;” and then he reverted to a figure of speech often employed in his earlier ministry, and touchingly expressive of the lowly estimate he had formed of his relation to the Messiah. His shoes, he said, he was unable to bear, and his shoe-latchet he was unworthy to unloose. To bear the shoes of a person or unloose his shoe-latchet was among the humblest offices performed by slaves; and thus John protested that he was not worthy to be even the slave of the Messiah. On some occasions, when he made use of this comparison to designate his own insignificance and Christ’s superiority, he added words which showed how well he knew wherein the difference between them lay: “I,” he said, “baptize with water, but he will baptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire.” He felt that his own work was superficial, external, cold: it was only baptism with water. But there are defilements which cannot be removed with water. The ore, for example, in which metals are embedded has to be cast into the furnace that the dross and dirt may be removed with fire and the silver or gold come forth pure. And equally searching is the purification required by human souls. It is not enough to break off notorious sins, as John commanded his hearers to do; there must be kindled in the heart the love of God and the enthusiasm of humanity. John’s work was negative; but it required as its completement a positive work—to create in the heart from which sin had been expelled the passion for goodness. In short, in addition to the baptism of water, John knew there was needed the baptism of fire; and he was well aware he had not this to give. This gift which John possessed, of seeing over and beyond his own work, is one of the most remarkable, and can only be found where there exist a rare selfknowledge and a rare humility. To the worker his own work is usually ultimate; it reaches as far as the horizon and up to the zenith; and this is all the more likely to be the case the more earnest is the man. The evangelist, for example, thinks that the great work of the Church is conversion, and he has little conception of the importance of the slow formation of character; the pastor, on the other hand, who has watched over the young of his congregation and instilled into their minds the principles of the gospel, may find it hard to realize that they still require a complete change of heart. But John not only acknowledged that his own work was merely a commencement, but saw with perfect clearness what was needed to make it complete, This invested with special significance the sign by which Jesus was marked out in his baptism; for the sign was the descent on him of the Holy Ghost. “God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him,” said John on a subsequent occasion. With this divine fire he was not only filled, but it overflowed for the baptism of the world. On one occasion, referring to this descent of the Spirit on Christ, John said, “And I saw, and bare record that this is the Son of God.” This is John’s first great name for the Saviour; but what he intended by it has been the subject of frequent discussion. It is a name which in different parts of Scripture has different meanings. In the Old Testament, where it is applied to kings and to the nation of Israel as a whole, it means the favorite of God; probably in Christ’s time it had come to be a popular name for the Messiah; and in the documents of Christianity it has the highest meaning of all, designating the unique relationship of Jesus to God. At which precise stage of the history of this idea the Baptist grasped it is a fair subject for discussion. It is not to be forgotten that John borrowed the name from the voice from heaven which sounded at the baptism of Jesus. Probably it meant for him all that he himself had not but Jesus had—all that was required to finish the work which he had begun but was not able to complete.

It may have been while Jesus was away in the wilderness, into which he plunged immediately after his baptism, to endure the forty days’ temptation, that the deputation from Jerusalem came to John; and it has been supposed that it was immediately after Jesus returned from the wilderness, the temptation being finished, that John pointed him out to his own followers as the Messiah. It is easy to conceive that, after so unique and prolonged an experience as Jesus had passed through in the wilderness, there may have been in his aspect something unusually impressive; and, when he came suddenly again into the circle where the Baptist was standing, the first look at him sent through the forerunner’s soul a revealing shock; whereupon, with outstretched finger pointed to him, he cried, “Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.”

What was the nature of the impression which had been made on John’s mind by the aspect of Jesus and drew forth this exclamation has been a question much discussed. Some suppose that it was by the meekness and gentleness of Jesus he was impressed; and that there flashed through his mind the pictures of the twenty-third Psalm, in which the happiness of a soul at peace with God is set forth under the image of a sheep or lamb in its relations with the shepherd. Many have supposed the reference to be to the suffering servant of the Lord in the fifty-third of Isaiah, “led as a lamb to the slaughter.” The tense look of Christ, possessed with the purpose of his life, had instantly suggested to John how much he was likely to suffer in conflict with the “generation of vipers,” to which he had himself appealed in vain. Many have supposed the reference to be to the paschal lamb or other lambs of sacrifice. By a sudden inspiration John was enabled, it is supposed, to anticipate Christ’s sacrificial death. In favor of this is recalled the fact that he was of priestly descent, and familiar, through his father, if not through his own experience, with all kinds of sacrifice.

Possibly in the impression flashed into John’s mind by the aspect of Jesus there was something of all these thoughts—of Christ’s lamb-like innocence and faith, of his high-strung devotion likely to come into painful collision with a coarse world, and of his death for the world’s sin. John had predicted that Jesus would baptize with fire—that is, that he would fill his adherents with holy passion and enthusiasm. But how was he to do this? He would baptize them with the Holy Ghost. But the Holy Ghost is not a physical influence: he works through ideas and emotions. Where, then, were the ideas and emotions to come from? We know where, historically, they have come from. They have come from the cross of Christ. It has been by the sight of Christ giving himself for them that human hearts have been inspired with hatred of sin, with the passion for holiness, with self-sacrifice and missionary zeal. This is the Lamb of God that has, in fact, taken away the sin of the world; and the likelihood is that it was this Lamb of God that John, though perhaps through a glass, darkly, foresaw. On this occasion also John’s testimony to Jesus was accompanied with an unconscious revelation of his own character. After one day saying, “Behold the Lamb of God,” to his followers in general, he said it another day to two of them in particular, who interpreted it as a direction to them to leave their master and follow a new one. So John intended it. He freely gave away these two disciples—two of the best, for one of them was St. John, afterwards the Evangelist—and others followed. It was a hardship to part from such dear friends and companions; but he deliberately brought the magnet into operation which, he knew, would draw with an irresistible attraction; for the best hearts about him were, through the influence of his ministry, pining for the baptism of fire which Christ was to impart. The third occasion when John bore conspicuous testimony to Christ was when “there arose a question between some of John’s disciples and the Jews about purifying.” In the revised version this incident is given more correctly: “there arose a question on the part of John’s disciples with a Jew about purifying.” Who this Jew was and what was his motive, we are not informed. The “purifying,” however, about which he and they disputed would appear to have been nothing else than baptism. Jesus, it seems, had followed the example of John by baptizing for a time, “though Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples.” And the new attraction proved more potent than the old, the fickle crowd leaving John and flocking to the baptism of his successor. If, as is likely, Jesus had begun to preach as well as baptize, it is easy to understand how his voice, with its gracious words, dulled the impression even of John’s eloquence. Possibly the Jew was one who had been baptized by Jesus, and the disciples of

John fell into dispute with him as to whether the baptism of Christ was superior to their master’s. Or perhaps he was a mischief-maker, who thought he could set the two parties by the ears; and he commenced with casting up to John’s disciples that their master was being deserted, because the crowd was flocking elsewhere.

If this was his intention, he was only too successful. There is an unmistakable tone of irritation in the words in which John is addressed by his disciples: “Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him.” The suggestion was that Jesus had kicked away the ladder by which he had risen, and that his success was at the expense of his friend.

It was such a speech as would have played havoc with a little mind and an unprincipled soul. Never are the suggestions of self-love so dangerous as when they are whispered in the ear by the flattering lips of sympathizers. When thoughts of envy arise within our own breasts we can more easily recognize their true character; but when they are suggested by friends they have a deceptive air of impartiality, and we think we can trust the estimates of outsiders. Many a man not destitute of either greatness or goodness has been filled with peevishness and self-pity, and even with furious jealousy and resentment, by just such suggestions from his friends or family as were made to John by his disciples. The situation, was, indeed, a trying one. There are few experiences more dangerous to the vanity of human nature than such a position as John had attained, with its fame and rumor, its crowds, its excitement, its success; there are few heads which such an experience will not turn. But, if the tide of popularity ebbs as suddenly as it has risen, or goes away to another candidate for public attention, the situation is still more testing; in such circumstances the heart of many a public favorite has broken. When for a lifetime a man has stood on the pinnacle of influence, but at last his day is over and another appears to take his place, it is a miracle of grace if he is able to look on his successor with friendliness and genuine good-will. But in John this miracle was wrought. Not for an instant did he yield to the querulous suggestions of his followers; but with the utmost lucidity and serenity he set before them the logic of the situation. “A man can receive nothing,” he told them, “except it be given him from heaven.” That is to say, every one has his own gift and his own place; some must be first, and some second; there is nothing more disastrous or ridiculous than for the second, instead of filling his own place and doing his own work, to be pining for the place and the work of the first. He had been but as the star which heralds the lamp of day. “Christ,” he said, “must increase, but I must decrease”—surely the most beautiful expression of humility ever uttered. But John rose far above even this in the glowing image in which he set forth the relation between Christ and himself: “He that hath the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, who standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice; this my joy therefore is fulfilled.” In Eastern countries the friend of the bridegroom corresponded to our groomsman; but his duties were much more comprehensive: not only had he to superintend the arrangements of the marriage, but he had even to act as intermediary in the wooing. John had been wooing the Jewish people, not for himself, but for Another; but, as the friend of the bridegroom, if he is a true man, rejoices when the bridegroom comes upon the scene and he can retire into the background, so he not merely did not murmur at the success of Christ, but greatly rejoiced in it, recognizing in it the very object for which he had been working all the time.

It was nobly said, and it was said from the heart; but how difficult it was to say we know from the difficulty of saying it after him. “He that hath the bride is the bridegroom”—the lucky man, the elect of Providence, wins the prize of fortune or fame, genius or beauty; but how hard it is, when we discover that the prize is not to be ours, to rejoice in his good fortune ! Even in God’s work it requires great grace to be glad that others have obtained greater gifts and better success; but it is a plain duty, and in fulfilling it John will be our teacher. In this section of John’s life we see two things closely united—testimony to Christ and humility of disposition. The conjunction is a natural and a happy one. He who is to bear witness to Christ must master his self-love. We cannot work for Christ’s honor and for our own at the same time. Those who exhibit Christ to men must hide themselves behind him. On the other hand, nothing tends so much to produce lowly estimates of self as to have a high estimate of Christ. Let him fill the eye and the heart, and we shall forget ourselves. What many of us need to silence our vanity and boastfulness is to have our mouth filled with the praise of the Son of God.

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