John the Baptist

Narrator: Chris Genthree
John 1:19  •  16 min. read  •  grade level: 7
It is not our object, in the following pages, to dwell upon the ministry of the Baptist; nor yet upon the place which he filled in the history of God’s dealings with Israel, deeply interesting as all this might be, and profitable too, inasmuch as his ministry was at once solemn and powerful, and his dispensational position full of the very deepest interest. But we must, for the present, confine ourselves to two or three of his utterances as recorded by the Holy Ghost in the Gospel of John, in which we shall find two things very strikingly presented to our view, namely, his estimate of himself, and his estimate of his Lord.
Now these are, assuredly, points worthy of our attention. John the Baptist was, according to the testimony of his blessed Master, the greatest “among them that are born of women.” This is the very highest testimony that could be borne to any one, whether we consider the source from which it emanated, or the terms in which it is couched. He was not only a prophet, but the greatest of prophets—the forerunner of the Messiah—the harbinger of the King—the great preacher of righteousness.
Such was John, officially; and hence it must be of the deepest interest to know what such a one thought of himself, and what he thought of Christ—to hearken to his fervent utterances on both these points, as given on the page of inspiration. Indeed we shall find herein a mine of most precious practical instruction.
Let us turn to the first chapter of John’s Gospel, and read at the nineteenth verse.
“And this is the record of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, Who art thou? And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I am not the Christ. And they asked him, What then? Art thou Elias? And he saith, I am not. Art thou that prophet? And he answered, No. Then said they unto him, Who art thou? that we may give an answer to them that sent us. What sayest thou of thyself? He said, I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.”
They were determined to have an answer; and he gives them one. They would compel him to speak of himself; and he does so. But mark his answer—mark his words! Who or what was he? Nobody. He was only “a voice.” This is morally lovely. The self-emptiness of this most honored servant is perfectly beautiful. It does the heart good to be brought in contact with such practical grace as this. Here was a man of real power and dignity, one of Christ’s most illustrious servants, occupying the very highest position, whose preaching had stirred the hearts of thousands, whoso birth had been announced by angels, whose ministry had been foretold by prophets, the herald of the kingdom, the friend of the King—and yet this remarkable man, when forced to speak of himself, can merely be induced to say, “I am a voice.” Not even a man; but only a voice.
What a lesson is here for us! What a wholesome corrective for our lamentable self-occupation, self-complacency, and self-exaltation. It is truly wonderful to think of the Baptist’s brilliant career, of his powerful ministry, of his widespread influence, extending even to the heart of Herod the king, of the place he occupied, and the work he did, and yet, notwithstanding all this, when forced to give out what he had to say of himself, he sums it all up in that one self-emptied word, “A voice.”
This, we must confess, contains, in its brief compass, a volume of deep practical instruction for the heart. It is precisely what is needed, in this day of busy self-importance—needed by each—needed by all; for have we not, each and all, to judge ourselves on the ground of our inordinate tendency to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to think? Are we not all prone to attach importance to any little work with which we ourselves happen to stand connected? Alas! it is even so, and hence it is that we so deeply need the wholesome teaching furnished by the lovely self-emptiness of John the Baptist, who, when challenged to speak of himself, could retire into the shade and say, “I am only a voice.”
Now this was a very remarkable answer to fall on the ears of Pharisees, of whom were the messengers that were sent to question the Baptist, as we read, “They which were sent were of the Pharisees.” Surely it is not without meaning that this fact is stated. Pharisees know but little of self-hiding or self-emptiness. Such rare and exquisite fruits do not thrive beneath the withering atmosphere of Pharisaism. They only grow in the new creation, and there is no Pharisaism there. Pharisaism, in all its phases and in all its grades, is the moral antipodes, the direct opposite of self-abnegation, and therefore John’s reply must have sounded strange in the ears of the questioners.
“And they asked him, and said unto him, Why baptizest thou then, if thou be not that Christ, nor Elias, neither that prophet? John answered them, saying, I baptize with water: but there standeth one among you, whom ye know not; he it is, who coming after me is preferred before me, whose shoe’s latchet I am not worthy to unloose.”
Thus, the more this dear servant of Christ is forced to speak of himself, or of his work, the more he retires into the shade. When asked about himself, he says “I am a voice.” When asked about his work, he says, “I am not worthy to unloose my Master’s shoe-latchet.” There is no puffing off or exalting of self; no making much ado of his service, no parading of his work. The greatest of prophets was, in his own eyes, merely a voice—the most honored of servants deemed himself unworthy to touch his Master’s shoe.
All this is truly refreshing and edifying. It is most healthful for the soul to breathe such an atmosphere as this in a day like the present of so much contemptible egotism and empty pretension, John was a man of real power, real worth, real gift and grace; and therefore he was a lowly unpretending man. It is generally thus. The really great men are fond of the shade, and, if they must speak of themselves, they make short work of it. David never spoke of his wonderful feat with the lion and the bear until compelled to do so by Saul’s unbelief. Paul never spoke of his rapture to paradise till it was drawn forth by the folly of the Corinthians; and when forced to speak of himself or his work, he apologizes, and says, again and again, “I speak as a fool.”
Thus it is ever. True worth is modest and retiring. The Davids, the Johns, and the Pauls have delighted to retire behind their Master, and lose sight of themselves in the blaze of His moral glory. This was their joy. Here they found and ever shall find their deepest, fullest, richest blessing. The very highest and purest enjoyment which the creature can taste is to lose sight of self in the immediate presence of God. Oh! to know more of it! It is what we want. It would effectually deliver us from the tendency to be occupied with, and influenced by, the thoughts and opinions of men; and it would impart a moral elevation to the character, and a holy stability to the course which, assuredly, are for the glory of God and our souls’ true peace and blessing.
But we must gather up further instruction from the history of John the Baptist. Let the reader turn to John 3:2525Then there arose a question between some of John's disciples and the Jews about purifying. (John 3:25): “Then there arose a question between some of John’s disciples and the Jews about purifying.” There were questions then, as there are, alas! questions now, for our hearts are full of questions. “And they came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him.”
Here was something calculated to test the heart of the Baptist. Could he bear to lose all his disciples? Was he prepared for desertion? Was he realty up to the height of his own words? Was he merely a voice, a nothing, and a nobody? These were pertinent questions; for we all know it is one thing to talk humbly, and another thing to be humble. It is one thing to speak about self-emptiness, and quite another to be self-emptied.
Was the Baptist, then, up to the mark? Was he prepared to be superseded and set aside? Was it of any moment to him who did the work provided the work was done? Hearken to his reply: “John answered and said, A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven.” This is a great practical truth. Let us seize it and hold it fast. It is an effectual remedy for self-confidence and self-exaltation. If a man can “take unto himself” nothing—if he can do nothing—if he is nothing, it ill becomes him to be boastful, pretentious, or self-occupied. The abiding sense of our own nothingness would ever keep us humble. The abiding sense of God’s goodness would over keep us happy. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights.” The remembrance of this would ever keep us looking up. Whatever good there is in us, or around us, comes from heaven—conies from God—the living and ever flowing source of all goodness and blessedness. To be near Him, to have Him before the heart, to serve in His holy presence, is the true secret of peace, the unfailing safeguard against envy and jealousy.
The Baptist knew something of this, and hence he had an answer ready for his disciples. “A man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven. Ye yourselves bear me witness that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice. This my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease.”
Here lay the deep and precious secret of John’s happiness and peace. His joy was not in his own work, not in gathering a number of disciples round himself, not in the success or acceptableness of his ministry, not in his personal influence or popularity, not in any or all of these things put together. His pure and holy joy was to stand and hear the voice of the Bridegroom, and to see others, to see his own disciples, to see all, flocking to that blessed One, and finding all their springs in Him.
“This is my joy, which ne’er can fail, To see my Savior’s arm prevail, And mark His steps of grace; Now new-born souls convinced of sin, His blood revealed to them within, Extol the Lamb in every place.”
Such, then, was the Baptist’s estimate of himself and of his Lord. As to himself, he was but a voice, and must decrease. As to his Lord, He was the Bridegroom; He was from heaven; he was above all; the center of all; whose glory must increase and fill with its blessed beams the whole universe of God, when all other glory shall have faded away forever.
But we have further testimony from the lips of this beloved and honored servant of God—testimony, moreover, drawn forth, not by any “question” about purifying—or any appeal to his personal feelings on the subject of his minister; but simply by his intense admiration of Christ as an object for his own heart. “The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man which is preferred before me: for he was before me. And I knew him not; but that he should be made manifest to Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water. And John bare record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon him. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining on him, the same is he which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost. And I saw, and bare record that this is the Son of God. Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God.” John 1:29-3629The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. 30This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man which is preferred before me: for he was before me. 31And I knew him not: but that he should be made manifest to Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water. 32And John bare record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon him. 33And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining on him, the same is he which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost. 34And I saw, and bare record that this is the Son of God. 35Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; 36And looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God! (John 1:29‑36).
Here was what occupied John’s heart. The Lamb of God. Peerless, precious object! Satisfying portion! Christ Himself—His work—His Person. In verse 29 we have one great branch of His work; “He taketh away the sin of the world.” His atoning death is the foundation of everything. It is the propitiation for His people’s sins; and for the whole world. In virtue of this precious sacrifice, every stain is removed from the believer’s conscience; and in virtue thereof every stain shall yet be obliterated from the whole creation. The cross is the divine pedestal on which the glory of God and the blessedness of man shall rest forever.
Then in verse 33 we have another branch of Christ’s work. “He baptizeth with the Holy Ghost.” This was made good on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost came down from the risen and glorified Head to baptize believers into one body. We do not attempt to enter upon these weighty subjects here, inasmuch as our object is to present to the heart of the reader the great practical effect of occupation with Christ Himself—the only true object of all believers. This effect comes very strikingly out in the following verses. “Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God.” Verses 35, 36.
Here the Baptist is wholly engrossed with the Person of his Lord, and hence we have no reference to His work. This is a point of the deepest possible interest and moment.
“John stood”—fixed—riveted—gazing upon the most glorious object that had ever fixed the gaze of men or angels—the object of the Father’s delight and of heaven’s adoration—“the Lamb of God.” And mark the effect. “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.” They felt, no doubt, that there must be something peculiarly attractive in One who could so command their master’s heart, and therefore, leaving him, they attached themselves to that glorious Person of whom he spoke.
This is full of instruction for us. There is immense moral power in true occupation of heart with Christ, and in the testimony which flows from thence. The positive enjoyment of Christ; feeding upon, and delighting in Him; the heart going out, in holy adoration, after Him; the affections centered in Him; these are the things that tell powerfully upon the hearts of others, because they tell upon our own hearts and ways. A man who is finding His delight in Christ is lifted out of himself, and lifted above the circumstances and influences which surround him. Such an one is morally elevated above the thoughts and opinions of men; he enjoys a holy calmness and independence; he is not thinking about himself, or seeking a name or a place for himself. He has found a satisfying portion, and is therefore able to tell the world that he is wholly independent of it. Was John troubled by the loss of his disciples? Nay, it was the joy of his heart to see them finding their center and their object where he had found his own. He had not sought to make a party, or to gather disciples around himself. He had borne witness to another, and that other was “the Lamb of God,” in whom he himself delighted, not only because of His work, but because of His worth—His moral glory—His intrinsic, peerless, divine excellence. He heard the Bridegroom’s voice and saw His face, and his joy was full.
Now we may well inquire, What can the world offer to a man whose joy is full? What can circumstances, what can the creature do for him? If men slight and desert him; if they wound and insult him—what then? Why, he can say, “My joy is full. I have found all I want in that blessed One who not only has taken away my sins and filled me with the Holy Ghost, but who has drawn me to Himself and filled me with His own divine preciousness and eternal excellency.”
Reader, let us earnestly seek to know more of this deep blessedness. Rest assured we shall find therein an effectual cure for the thousand and one ills that afflict us in the scene through which we are passing. How is it that professors so often exhibit a morose and unlovely temper? Why are they peevish, fretful, and irritable in the domestic life? Why so ruffled and put about by the petty annoyances of their daily history? Why so easily upset by the most contemptible trifles? Why put out of temper if the dinner be not properly and punctually served up? Why so touchy and tenacious? Why so ready to take offense if self be touched or its interests intruded upon? Ah! the answer is easily given. The poor heart is not finding its center, its satisfying portion, in “the Lamb of God.” Here lies the secret of our failure. The moment we take our eye off Christ—the moment we cease to abide in Him by a living faith, that moment we get under the power of every passing current of circumstances and influences; we become feeble and lose our balance; self and its surroundings rise into prominence and fill the heart’s vision; and thus, instead of exhibiting the beautiful features of the image of Christ, we exhibit the very reverse, even the odious and humiliating tempers and dispositions of unsubdued nature.
May God enable us to lay these things seriously to heart, for we may depend upon it that serious damage is clone to the cause of Christ, and grievous dishonor brought upon His holy name by the uncomely manners, tempers, and ways of those who profess to belong to Him.