The Church’s liturgical year moves into its first period of Ordinary Time after the feast of the Baptism of the Lord. On that feast, we hear of the role played by John the Baptist and the following few Sundays continue with incidents from his life. He is described as the greatest of the prophets, yet it is surprising how little we know of his life and teachings. When we think of the Old Testament prophets, we tend to think of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel or perhaps Amos or Hosea, all of whom have complete books named after them. Isaiah is an impressive 66 chapters long, Jeremiah 52 and Ezekiel 42.
The shortest of the Prophetic books is Haggai at 38 verses in 2 chapters. By comparison, we have only a few sentences attributed to John the Baptist, so what is it that makes him so great? Perhaps it is that he recognised Jesus for what he was even from the womb – “As soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb”. His whole life was devoted to preparing a way for the Lord. He became a famous figure, sought out by crowds wanting advice and baptism. Yet, when he saw Jesus, he immediately recognised him as the Lamb of God and accepted that, while Jesus’ fame would grow, his would decrease. His only concern was to do the will of God – his fame had no value of its own, just as his life had no value other than as a means of proclaiming the coming of the Lord.
Another example of someone whose influence seems out of all proportion to his written legacy is St Benedict. The Rule of St Benedict is a very short document, written simply – indeed little more than bullet-points in some sections. It can be prosaic to the point of boredom, yet it has inspired centuries of monastic life in all parts of the world. Similarly, some of the classical devotional writers left comparatively small written works – think of Francis de Sales’ “The Devout Life” or Thomas a Kempis “The imitation of Christ”. Neither work is complex or lengthy, yet they have both influenced many generations of sincere people searching for ways to grow in holiness.
Can we make a connection between John the Baptist, St Benedict and other classical writers? On the surface, there seems very little common ground. John the Baptist was a powerful speaker who moved people to repentance but almost certainly never wrote anything down. He lived a nomadic, outdoor life. Benedict and Thomas were confined to their monasteries and Francis to his diocese. They taught by means of the written word more than by speech. Yet they do all have one very important point in common – they all lived only to do the will of God. They taught more by example than by speech or writing. What preaching or writing they did was a side-effect of their desire to do the will of God, not a way of making themselves famous or powerful.
Can we now make a connection between John the Baptist, St Benedict and ourselves? What lessons can we learn from their brevity? Perhaps we too are called to teach by example rather than words. John the Baptist recognised Jesus as God when they were both in the womb and when they were grown men. Can we recognise him in the people that we meet? Do other people recognise him in us when they meet us?
