Up Close and Personal With John the Baptist

Audio2004A Study Of The Life Of Christ

Aug 1

Tom Shrader traces John the Baptist's life and ministry through Luke 1, Luke 3, and Matthew 3, highlighting John's role as the forerunner who prepared Israel to receive the Messiah. He explores how John's countercultural lifestyle matched his bold message of repentance, and how the arrival of Jesus at His baptism marked the official beginning of Christ's public ministry. Shrader draws four practical takeaways: the messenger must match the message, believers must stay on the gospel, truth must be spoken in love, and faithfulness is a lifelong calling.

“Don't ask the question, how much should I give, because I think you're going to get a different answer if you ask that question. Ask this question, how much of God's money should I keep?”
— Tom Shrader

Series: A Study Of The Life Of Jesus Christ (2003/2004)

Recorded: 2004 at East Valley Bible Church

Duration: 1 hr 9 min

Themes: repentance, faithfulness, boldness, gospel, calling, integrity, truth telling, preparation, feeling called to ministry, struggling to speak truth, new believer, pastor, evangelist, young adult, living out your faith, mentor

Scripture: Luke 1:15, Luke 1:67, Luke 1:76-77, Luke 3:1-22, Matthew 3:1-17, Matthew 3:7, Mark 1:2-3, Isaiah 40:3, Malachi 3:1, Malachi 4:5, Psalm 2:7, Isaiah 42:1, 2 Kings 1:8, Matthew 11:11, Matthew 21, Matthew 23, John 8:44, Romans 9:6, Galatians 5:22, 1 Corinthians 2:2, Ephesians 5:18

Theological Themes: forerunner, baptism of jesus, pneumatology, filled with the spirit, messiah, incarnation, prophetic ministry, sanctification

Full Transcript

Introduction: Setting the Stage

This morning we are going up close and personal with John the Baptist. We will be looking at three sections of scripture, and as we press through this study harmonizing the Gospels, more and more often we are going to be taking the Gospels and bringing them together — a verse from here, two from there — to begin to paint the totality of the picture that the Gospels paint. If you go on the website before the 10 o'clock service, you can download the notes, so anything that is on the screen you will have in your hands when you arrive. I also encourage you, as you look at those three passages, to take some time this week to read through them and begin to see how this picture in God's Word of John the Baptist comes together.

The Promise of John's Birth

John the Baptist comes onto the scene some 30 years after we were warned about him. Zechariah had an angel appear to him to say that he was going to have this son. We find this at the beginning of Luke chapter 1, where Luke records the angel appearing to Zechariah. Verse 15 of chapter 1 says: "He will be great in the sight of the Lord, he will drink no wine or liquor, he'll be filled with the Holy Spirit while he's yet in his mother's womb." In other words, he is going to be set apart for his task.

What It Means to Be Filled with the Holy Spirit

The idea of being filled with the Spirit is not just something that relates to certain men or women with extraordinary roles to play. The New Testament — Paul's writing — calls on you and me to be filled with the Holy Spirit. We live at a time when much of the charismatic movement has, in a sense, hijacked that phrase, and we rarely even talk about it because we are afraid of what we perceive to be misconceptions of that term.

Being filled with the Holy Spirit does not mean praying in some unknown language, or being slain in the Spirit, or falling around. Here is how Paul says it: "Do not be drunk with wine, but be filled with the Spirit." He is contrasting the two. What does it look like to be drunk with wine? You are under the influence — driving under the influence. If you have been around long enough, you have heard someone say, "It's not me talking, honey, it's the booze talking." That is what it means to be drunk with wine.

So what does it mean to be filled with the Holy Spirit? There is a sense in which you are saying — and cut some slack here — it is not me talking, it is God talking. It is not me doing that on my own. I understand I am performing the task, but I am under the influence of the Holy Spirit. I am starting to see the world as God sees the world, see my life as God sees my life, and beginning to understand how those two things mesh together. That is what the angel promised Zechariah — that his son would be filled with the Holy Spirit.

John as the Forerunner

The angel also told Zechariah that John would be the forerunner. He will come before Him — speaking of Christ — in the Spirit and the power of Elijah, referring to one of the most powerful of the Old Testament prophets. Zechariah was not entirely sure how this would happen, and as a result he could not speak until John was born.

When he could speak again, Luke chapter 1 verse 67 records him breaking forth in a magnificent prophecy. Of those verses, only two of them relate directly to John the Baptist — verses 76 and 77: "And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go on before the Lord to prepare His way, to give to His people the knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of their sin." There is John's mission.

Jesus' Assessment of John

John the Baptist is not a small bit player in this story. In Matthew chapter 11 verse 11, here is Jesus' own assessment of him: "Truly I say to you, among those who are born of woman, there has not arisen anyone greater than John the Baptist." Bring them all on — Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Joshua. Those giants that we have talked about cannot exceed John the Baptist. He is not a bit player.

Yet notice that John is still playing a supporting role, because that is the role all of us ultimately play. We are supporting roles to the one central figure in all of history, Jesus Christ. Everything before His coming looks forward to His life and His death. Everything after it looks back to that occasion. John is a significant player, but his significance is defined entirely by the One he points toward.

John Arrives on the Scene

Now we turn to Luke chapter 3 verse 1, where John arrives on the scene. It is a little tough to nail down precisely, but this is probably 26–27 AD — the 15th year in the reign of Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate is governor of Judea and Herod is the Tetrarch. As you look through these verses, you will see both political leaders — Palestinian and Roman governors — and spiritual leaders, Annas and Caiaphas. Both spiritually and politically, these are dark, dark times. These are wicked men.

It is against this backdrop of political and religious darkness that John bursts onto the scene. It is in the midst of this that the word of God came to John, the son of Zechariah, in the wilderness.

The Radical Arrival of John the Baptist

This prophecy is recorded in all four gospels. All four begin in different ways, but they all bring us to John the Baptist, and they all record the prophecy of Isaiah, who said: "Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way. The voice of one crying in the wilderness, make ready the way of the Lord, make His path straight." That is a quote from Isaiah chapter 40, verse 3.

One of the things I have become convinced of — and I know it is true of me, so I suspect it is true of many of you — is that we cannot fully get our arms around how dynamic and radical all of this really is. For us, it is a story. We sit here in 2004, in our American culture, and we look back at a story that we are so familiar with that many of us know it by heart — maybe not the details, but certainly the storyline. And because we are not Jews, and because we are not Jews living in that day and age, we miss some of the radical nature of this.

This Jewish nation had not heard from God for 400 years. The prophets had been silent. The last things they had said were these: Malachi 3:1, "See, I will send my messenger who will prepare the way before me," and Malachi 4:5, "See, I will send you the prophet Elijah." So for 400 years they were waiting for Elijah to show up. For 400 years they were waiting for God to do something, to say something. And it had been hundreds and hundreds of years beyond that since they had been waiting for this deliverance, for this Messiah.

But now, all of a sudden, four gospel writers mention John the Baptist because this is a significant moment. This is what they had been told would trigger the entrance of the Messiah — not John by name, but one who would be a voice crying in the wilderness, making ready the way of the Lord.

A Highway of Repentance

Kent Hughes writes this: "The point we must not miss is this — the great highway John was building was one of repentance. The Baptist was not saying mend not your roads, but mend your lives. To put it in terms of American geography, repentance removes obstacles. Sometimes the Sierras fills in the death valleys of our lives so that Christ has full access. Repentance invites the fullness of God."

John is just a road builder. He is clearing the path — that is what a road builder does. He moves everything out of the way. In some areas he has to cut things down; in other areas he has to bring in fill so that the highway is level. That is all John is doing. John is not the key significant figure — he is pointing to another one; that is his role. He is saying to the people: you do not need to build a highway in the geographic sense. We are not talking about Interstate 10. We are asking you to prepare your own life. And all of John's life was about this.

John's Lifestyle as Message

John made a fashion statement. John made lifestyle statements. Look at Matthew chapter 3: John himself wore a garment of camel's hair and a leather belt around his waist. And he was not on the Atkins diet — he was eating giant locusts and honey. You and I look at this and think we have a strange uncle who lives like that. But we miss it. The Jews got it right away. They would think immediately of the description in 2 Kings 1:8 of Elijah. And what were they waiting for? Elijah. 2 Kings 1:8 describes Elijah as a hairy man with a leather girdle around his loins — not that he was physically hairy, but that he wore these rough, hairy garments and carried a leather belt. So all of a sudden the word was spreading: there is a man out there dressed in camel hair with this strange diet. He is a very strange fellow.

His lifestyle was a key part of his message. One author writes: "John's very dress, food, and lifestyle were in themselves a rebuke to the self-satisfied, self-indulgent religious leaders of Israel. It was also a rebuke to most of the people who, though they may not have been able to indulge in the privileges of their leaders, nonetheless admired and longed for the same advantages. John's purpose was not to turn people into hermits. He called no one, not even his disciples, to live and dress as he did, but his manner of living was a dramatic reminder of the many loves and pleasures that keep people from exchanging their own way for God's ways."

John's message was not simply countercultural — it was counter to the religious culture of the day. And John's lifestyle matched that message. His lifestyle was a rebuke of what was going on around him and a reminder of what truly mattered. He even called the people out into the wilderness, away from their creature comforts. He said, in effect: come out here, take a look at this, listen to this. It was a rebuke of everything surrounding him.

The Messenger Must Match the Message

It was absolutely critical that John the messenger and John's message came together, and that one did not cancel out the other. The same has to be true in your life and mine. If you are going to say that you are a child of the King, then you are going to have to look like the King's kid. People are expecting that, people are demanding that, and people should see that.

I used to say, when our girls were small, that you could line ten kids up on this stage and you might not know my kids from the others — but then I would say, which one is mine? And you would point to the one with the round little face and the freckles and say, that one, because she looks just like you. You are a child of God, and you are supposed to look just like Him. You are supposed to conform to His image. And if you do not, your message is going to be overshadowed by you, the messenger.

I was talking to someone this week, and they said they had worked for a high-profile Christian, and I thought, that is interesting. I asked what it was like to work for him, and they said, not so good. I did not push further.

The Danger of Hypocrisy

It doesn't do you any good to have a big Bible sitting on your credenza if you're barking out orders like a drill sergeant with no love in your life. It doesn't do you any good to put a fish on your car, wear a big cross, invite people to Bible studies, and then live any way you want. You're not doing anybody any favor. What will immediately happen is people will say, "He's a hypocrite — he says this, but he does that."

If you're a person who says your faith does not govern the way you live, that your faith is not invading your lifestyle but is limited to Sunday morning or a small group, no one is going to listen to you. Everything you say is now in the way.

John's Unwavering Message

Here is another thing about John: he does not deviate from his message. John appears in the wilderness preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin, and that is all John preaches his entire life. He keeps coming with the same message. It may take a slightly different form, but essentially it is this: "Behold the Lamb of God — behold Him who takes away the sins of the world." Everything points to Him.

The Wilderness as a Symbol

John preaches in the wilderness, and Ray Stedman points out that this is significant. God chose the wilderness because it is a symbol — a very apt symbol — of where John's message was to fall: upon the wilderness of mankind. The desert is a picture of us, of our dry, empty, barren, weary, bored, and distraught lives. People are living in the desert. People's lives are empty and barren — and we do not mean materially.

The Progress Paradox

A couple of weeks ago, someone told me I needed to read a book called *The Progress Paradox*. I went and got it, and I am probably fifty or sixty pages in. The premise of the book is this: we have never had more than we have right now. There is not a huge gap between the middle class and the wealthy — there may be a financial gap, but there is not the lifestyle gap there used to be.

In the mid-1950s, nobody had central air conditioning. There is probably not a person in this room who does not have it. I remember only one time in my eighteen years living with my parents that we stayed in a hotel, and that was for two days. If we were going anywhere, we drove as long as it took to get there to stay with relatives for free. The first time I was on a plane, I was nineteen years old. My girls were on a plane when they were six months old and sixteen months old.

When my parents were getting ready to sell the house they had lived in for thirty-two years, someone told them one of the biggest drawbacks was that they only had a one-car garage. My parents said that was because they only had one car. Now even tract homes have three, four, and five-car garages.

When McDonald's first opened and had that fifteen-cent cheeseburger, taking your family of four there for dinner would cost the equivalent of about thirty minutes of work. Now it costs the equivalent of about three minutes of work. It used to take four days to complete all the household chores. Now it takes fourteen hours. The book is filled with example after example making the point that there has perhaps never been a culture in which the middle class — even the lower middle class — has had so many things.

And yet everybody seems glazed over. "I'm so bored." When my dad wanted to punish us, he would say, "Get up to your room." That used to be terrible. Now you go to your room and there is no punishment — you have got the phone, the internet, and everything else right there with you. We have never had more, and yet people are empty.

The Wilderness and the Loneliness of Life Without Christ

He calls them not in the wilderness because that's the empty, barren, weary, bored, distraught picture of our life without Christ. There's nothing there. No matter how filled up we get, it isn't enough. I was teaching a men's study down in Tucson, and I'm walking in. There's a guy right by the aisle, and as I walked by him I said, "Hey, I'm glad you're here." There were 330 guys in the room, and that's all I did.

I walked to the front and gathered my thoughts. I like to have my first sentence thought through — the problem is it's typically the high point and everything drifts from there, but at least I got one sentence out. Then I see these feet. Here's this guy, tears pouring down his face. He said, "I'm so lonely." Three hundred and thirty guys in the room.

You've got 643 people in here today — Christians, fellowship, all of that. And yet some of you are so lonely. You're meeting people at a Starbucks for a $4.50 latte, spending just over $1,100 a year on that, and you're still lonely and bored.

The World Is Self-Diagnosing the Wrong Problem

Here's something really interesting. Everybody I know who has an ache or a pain or a lump is now on the internet self-diagnosing. Then you go to the doctor and say, "Here's the problem — I'd write the prescription myself, but they won't let me." That's the problem with the world. The world is self-diagnosing, and when people tap it in, what they're saying is, "I don't have enough of this" — my problem is economic, or educational, or it's a career path. They're self-diagnosing, but it's all wrong. Those are all symptoms. The real problem is, I don't know Christ.

And when they don't know Christ, sin moves in. Again, Stedman: sin produces guilt, and guilt is accompanied by fear, because fear is self-distrust — it is feeling unable to handle life anymore. Whether you're a Christian or a non-Christian, you can respond the same way. When I'm talking to men and women who don't know Christ, they're saying, "I don't know if I can take it anymore."

The world is a very scary place. I'm listening to these guys say they can't find weapons of mass destruction — and I don't find that particularly comforting. Bill Clinton said they were there. John Kerry said they were there. They were there. They used them on their own people. I'm curious where they went. I was talking to a military guy this week, and he said, "You've got to understand, some of the weapons they're talking about are the size of a notebook. These are going to pop up in Minneapolis and Little Rock. They're going to pop up here. 9/11 is not going to be the last of these, and it's not going to be the biggest." It is a scary world.

But that's not the real problem. The real problem is that I'm afraid even when things are going well, because I don't know Christ. If you're a Christian feeling that same emptiness, let me suggest we start in the same place we would with those who don't know Christ: is there some sin in your life? Because that sin is going to produce guilt, and that guilt is going to eat away at you and destroy you — especially if you're a Christian, because you're not made to live that way. God is going to discipline you.

John Stays on Message

So John is out there in the wilderness, and here's what he does: he stays on message. Look at his message. John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness to preach a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin. Now, when he's talking about baptism here, it's different from how we think about it, and it was a totally new concept to the Jews. They had the idea of ceremonial washing — they would come in regularly and wash for the purification of sin, something they would do again and again. John is doing this and saying, "This is a symbol." And there it is — a gigantic break with Jewish tradition.

Paul says in Romans chapter nine, verse six, "Not everybody who is in Israel is of Israel." In other words, not all the Jews are real believers. John's message says, "Listen, you need to repent. You need to come apart from even your religion, and this baptism isn't something that's going to save you. It's something that identifies you with Christ."

John the Straight Shooter

Here's another thing: John is a straight shooter. Look at his message. The multitudes are gathered around him, going out to be baptized, and here is his opening line: "You brood of vipers." He doesn't say, "What a wonderful day, and I want to thank Margaret for the meal, so glad you could be here, are you comfortable?" He starts with "You brood of vipers." Matthew's gospel, Matthew 3:7, tells us that in this multitude there were...

The Pharisees and Sadducees

There were two groups of people: the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The word Pharisee literally means "separated one." They hung out in the large cities, and their membership in their club required strict observance of the law. They were known as legalistic isolationists, and their loyalty was to themselves. They did believe in a hereafter.

They were a group of people that Jesus seemed to drive to strong words. If Jesus was with a prostitute, He was fine. If He met a woman at the well, it was fine. If He was with just about anybody, He was fine — except the Pharisees drove Him to unload. "You hypocrites, rightly did Isaiah prophesy of you, saying, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far away from me.'" In Matthew 23, it is "you hypocrites" again and again: "You are like whitewashed tombs — you look great on the outside, but there are dead men's bones on the inside." That is the Pharisees.

The Sadducees were at the polar opposite. They were ultra-liberal, and they compromised religiously and politically. They were attracted to the pragmatism of the Romans and despised the strict religious traditions of the Pharisees. There were not many of these men — they were the money changers who also offered the sale of sacrificial animals, running what you might call the franchises inside the temple, profiting from all of it.

They were in cahoots with Rome, drawn to that pragmatic approach to life, and consequently the Jews did not like them. Jesus had a word for them too. In Matthew chapter 21, Jesus enters the temple to cast out all who were buying and selling, overturns the tables of the money changers and those selling doves — these very men — and says, "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer,' but you have turned it into a robber's den."

John's Message: A Brood of Vipers

Back to the message John is delivering. He is staying on point, and he is direct: "You brood of vipers." The word "brood" literally means offspring or descendants. You can see the contrast at work — in the middle of verse eight, these people are claiming, "We are of Abraham, we are the Jews." John fires back: you are descendants not of Abraham, but of vipers, of snakes.

A viper was a small, poisonous desert snake that you would be very familiar with in that setting. Sitting still, a viper would look like a dead twig, which made it especially dangerous — there was a tendency to pick them up when gathering firewood. That, John says, is what you are all about. Later, speaking to the Pharisees in John chapter 8, verse 44, Jesus echoes the same charge: "You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father." You are a brood of vipers, and there needs to be change.

These people were relying on Abraham. They were saying, "Abraham is our father." John is telling them there is an ax coming, there is judgment coming. So what does he want them to do? Look at verse eight: "Therefore, bring forth the fruits that are in keeping with repentance." There must be a lifestyle change. If I say Jesus is my Lord, then I ought to look like His servant.

Fruit That Matches What We Claim

If I say that He owns it all — that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, that all of my time, energy, effort, and money is His — then there needs to be evidence of that. Some of the young guys were up at the Piper Conference this week, where Randy Alcorn was teaching. Alcorn typically focuses on two areas: heaven and possessions. When you are a young man hearing that, it really rattles your cage, because you start to evaluate life and wrestle with how much you should have, where you should live, what you should buy, what kind of car is okay, what kind of house is appropriate. That is a good struggle to have.

Here is how I try to help men think that through. Do not ask the question, "How much should I give?" — because I think you will get a different answer. Ask instead, "How much of God's money should I keep?" That puts things in their proper relationship.

Consider a simple illustration. If someone comes to you and says, "I have two stocks. This first one — and I know the people involved, I have read the reports — has about a six-month shelf life. They are still in business, but in six months it will be gone. This second one will pay dividends for generations and generations and on into eternity. You have a thousand dollars — which stock do you want?" That may sound like a foolish question. But the honest answer is that many of us have bought a lot of the stock that went out of business in six months.

If you know on the front end that one investment has a shelf life roughly equal to your own, and another pays dividends for eternity, the choice becomes clear. You invest in the world and it expires with you, or you invest in the things of God and it pays dividends forever. That is what John is saying to these people. If you claim to belong to God, there is going to be fruit — there is going to be evidence. You will not really have to convince people of it.

When we fast-forward into the New Testament and arrive at Galatians 5:22, Paul says the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and gentleness.

John's Audience Responds

Paul doesn't say the fruit of the Spirit — the ways that people understand that you're filled with the Holy Spirit — is that you'll have this much quiet time, or you'll do this, or you'll serve here. He doesn't do that. He says there's a heart attitude in here.

John's audience responds in a striking way. All the country of Judea and all the people of Jerusalem are going out to him, coming from everywhere. There is a little hyperbole when he uses the word "all" — not every time in Scripture when the word "all" is used, speaking of people, does it mean each and every single person. What he is saying is that people are coming from Judea, people are coming from Jerusalem, and there is this radical, sweeping movement.

They would have had to trek through the desert twenty or thirty miles to get to John. There is this symbolic trek where they are leaving everything behind — all their comforts, all their pleasures, all their recreation, all the distractions that would normally fill their lives — and trekking out to hear him. They are coming into this wilderness, listening to this message, and responding to it.

Standing in a desert, they are coming face to face, as God opens their eyes, with the desert in their own lives — the dryness and the weariness, the boredom of their own existence — and with the understanding that its root is sin, and that sin is their fundamental problem. One author writes this: "Imagine the scene — hundreds, later thousands at the heights of John's ministry, seated along the Jordan, listening to John, listening to the warning of judgment, speaking of individual sins, naming names, calling for social justice and repentance, and finally, when they are duly convicted, they form endless lines to be baptized as a sign that they were repenting of their sins." This is what is happening in John's ministry.

John Deflects the Question of Identity

At this moment, seeing this garment, it would be easy for the Jews to think, "Here comes Elijah," and to make the further mistake of saying, "This is the Messiah." In fact, that is exactly the question that arises. They want to know: are you the Christ? Are you the Messiah?

John answers clearly. In Luke 3:16 he says, "As for me, I baptize with water; one who is coming is mightier than I, and I am not fit to untie the thong of His sandal. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire." John is saying: no, I am not the Christ. The Christ is coming. And in John's Gospel, right at this same point, John the Baptist declares, "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world."

Here is what John is saying: it is not me. In fact, "He must increase and I must decrease." That, by the way, is the answer to spiritual growth. Continually, God gets bigger and bigger, and His agenda becomes more dominating than your agenda, His thoughts more dominating than your thoughts, His desires more important than even the desires of your own heart. There is a humility that takes place there.

The Baptism of Jesus

John keeps on going, keeps on exhorting, keeps on preaching — as Luke 3:18 tells us, he exhorts the people and continues preaching. Then comes the day when Jesus arrives to be baptized. In Luke 3:21, Jesus appears on the scene to receive baptism.

James Boyce writes: "It does not take a careful reading of the Gospels to notice that although each of them begins in a manner significantly different from the others, they come together at the point of recording the appearance and work of John the Baptist. This is no accident, of course, because John's words pointed to the coming Christ, and his baptism of Jesus marked the official commencement of Christ's ministry."

Here is what happens. John baptizes Jesus, and while this is taking place, the Holy Spirit descends upon Him in a bodily form like a dove, and a voice comes out of heaven saying, "Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Two things stand out. First, we see here — and it does not happen often in Scripture — the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all present, acknowledged, and accounted for at the same incident and at the same time.

What is especially significant is the voice from heaven, and especially significant to the Jewish ear. When they hear "Thou art my beloved Son," they would immediately recognize that language. They would understand it is coming from Psalm 2:7, where God speaks of the Messiah. When they then hear "in whom I am well pleased," they are hearing Isaiah 42:1, which begins all the prophecies from Isaiah concerning the suffering Messiah.

Here is this dramatic moment. All these Jews are gathered — some Pharisees, some Sadducees, some Jewish leaders, and a multitude of people who would certainly know the Old Testament. When they witness what is happening, they are not thinking, "Well, here is the Trinity." They are listening to the words. This is God speaking from heaven, saying: this is My Son. This is the Messiah. That is the point of the moment. It could not be more clearly declared to these people. That is not to say they all responded — we know they did not — but it is to say this is a profoundly significant moment.

The Takeaway: Four Lessons

So what is the takeaway value of all this? There are four things. Here is the first: the messenger needs to match the message. It does no good to preach the gospel if your life does not match that message. When you go to people and say, "Why don't you join me at church," that ought to be a common, natural part of how you live. Conversations will take on a spiritual flavor, and when they do, you will want to know whether the person is saved. If they are not, you share the gospel. If they are, the conversation turns to questions like, "Where do you go to church? How are you fed?" And church becomes an integral part of that relationship.

Stay on Message

Bible study becomes an integral part of that. It does you no good to walk around with a big Bible, quoting scripture, if you don't live by it.

The second thing is this: you have to stay on message. I spend a lot of time with lost people, and they want to talk about everything but the gospel. They want to ask a thousand questions. How did we really get the Bible? Isn't it really just written by men? What about babies? Why is there evil? What about those who've never heard? What about churches filled with hypocrites?

I've learned over the years not to get involved in those debates. I don't know about those who haven't heard — but you've heard. How do you feel? I know there are hypocrites in church. Join us; we can always use one more. To go down that track is not productive. They don't know Christ. They don't have spiritual ears.

I once thought about the example of Bill Clinton, who would not get off message — he talked about Social Security, health care, and education, no matter what anyone asked him. But I don't need Bill Clinton for that lesson. Here's what Paul said in 1 Corinthians 2, verse 2: "I am determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified." There is the message. That is your message to a lost and dying world. Don't deviate from it.

The Loving Thing to Do Is Tell the Truth

It is a loving thing to tell the truth. I can't help but read about John and notice that his opening line to the crowd is, "You brood of vipers." It is important for us to understand who we're talking to, understand the culture, understand how people hear — but we don't change the message for that. The message is the same.

Think of it this way. A couple of years ago I went to the doctor with a small skin problem. He got a needle, froze the area, and cut it out. He didn't say, "He looks like he's having a good day, and I know there's a wedding coming up, so I'll wait a couple of years and then deal with it." That would have been negligent, not kind.

I talk to people who tell me about lost friends, and when I ask if they've shared the gospel, they say, "It's not really a good time right now." But the loving thing to do if you're a doctor is to cut the cancer out. The loving thing to do if you're a dentist is to fill the cavity. The loving thing to do if you're a roofer is to patch the roof. And the loving thing to do if you're a missionary — and that is what you are — is to fulfill your mission and tell people the truth.

This may be painful, but it is what they need to hear. The gospel is the good news, and the good news must be preceded by the bad news. The bad news is that you are a sinner.

The Message Must Include Sin

Of the last ten events I've attended where a speaker gives his testimony at a dinner or a breakfast, brings everyone into the room, and then has them check a box — "Do you want to know Jesus? Would you like to go to heaven?" — nine out of ten times, the speaker never mentioned sin. What am I checking the box for?

The loving thing to do is to tell someone, in love, that they are lost. When Larry Wright told me, "Here's your problem, Tom — it's not your religion, it's not your parents, it's not your money — the problem is you don't know Christ," that was the most loving thing anyone could have done for me.

Throughout his entire life, John simply kept giving out that message. He rested, but he never stopped. Some responded. Most did not. He stayed faithful to the end.

Closing Prayer

Now, Jesus has been baptized and His public ministry begins. Next week we will look at the life of Jesus as He steps into the public arena.

Father, help us see this truth. Help it affect the way we live and how we think. Help us examine our own lives and ask the question: does our message and our lifestyle line up? Do we stay on message? Do we understand that the loving thing to do is to tell the truth — in love, with grace and mercy?

Father, help us understand that this is something we do for all of our lives. When You are done with us, we will know it, because we will die. Until then, let us be faithful — like John, voices crying out to lives that are parched and empty and needy, with a message as fresh as a cool drink of water, except it lasts forever. That is the message of hope in Jesus and Him crucified.

Father, make us faithful servants. Let us be found to be men, women, and students who fulfill the task for which You have called us and saved us. We pray this in Jesus' name, amen.