Testimony
Sermon
Living Between the Advents
Preaching Advent in Year B
In the rural church where my family worshiped and served during my childhood and youth, the midweek prayer service usually included a time for people to share their personal testimonies. Many people would take advantage of the opportunity. Some would go into long narratives describing the many things that the Lord had done in their lives. Some would offer simple statements of thanksgiving or requests for prayer. Standing up on a Wednesday night and saying something about what the Lord meant to you was something of a rite of passage in our church, a sort of Baptist bar mitzvah or bat mitzvah, you might say. And so it came to pass that at one of those services when I was about ten years old, I stood on trembling legs and said in a quavering voice, "I'd like to say that I love the Lord. Pray for me and my family," and I sat down. I felt relieved. I felt happy. And I felt proud. And there was the danger.
Our Testimony Is About Jesus And Not About Us
"Who are you?" they asked John. "Who are you to testify the way you do, to speak the way you do?" How tempting it could have been in such a situation to say, "Why, I'm John the Baptist, that's who I am! I'm the one 'sent from God' (v. 6)! I'm the guy who wears clothes made of camel hair and who eats locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4)! I'm the one who has the truth from God and who has a whole gang of people following him, which proves, of course, that I have the truth from God! That's who I am -- I'm John! Remember that name -- John!" The risk was the risk of recognition. John was being recognized for what he was doing. Recognition means that you are drawing attention. Often when we draw attention we want to draw more attention. Pride can rear its ugly head.
The Gospel of John emphasizes the fact that John the Baptist came, not to call attention to himself, but rather "as a witness to testify to the light.... He himself was not the light, but came to testify to the light" (vv. 7a, 8). He had come to testify to the light that had come into the world, and that light of the world was Jesus. His testimony was that he was not the Messiah (v. 20) but that he was a voice testifying to the Messiah (v. 23). It was not about him; it was about Jesus. It is not about us; it is about Jesus.
Our Testimony Emerges From Our Lives
And yet -- and yet -- in a way it was about John and in a way it is about us. After all, we can only testify truthfully to what we know. John could only bear witness to what he had experienced; we can only bear witness to what we have experienced. What we truly know and what we have genuinely experienced gets down deep into our lives and changes who and what we are. It will show. Therefore, John's life had to reflect his relationship with God and with God's Son, Jesus Christ; our lives have to reflect our relationship with God and with God's Son, Jesus Christ. We can only bear valid witness with our lives. We can only bear valid witness to the light of the world when our lives are reflecting his light. So there is a tension with which we live as we testify to the light that has changed our lives. The only means with which we have to witness is our lives. But the witness of our lives is to Jesus, not to ourselves. It's a tough but necessary line to walk.
John the Baptist is a positive model for us here. He said of the Messiah of whom he was testifying, "I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal" (v. 27). In other words, John had a servant mentality. He had a genuine sense of humility because he had a genuine grasp of who Jesus was. Perhaps the best way to bear witness to Jesus with our lives is to live servant lives -- lives in which our priority is to serve God by serving others. Living a servant life is all about giving ourselves away. Such a life is a life of testimony because testimony is a giving away of self; when we testify, be it through words or through actions, something from us is being given to our world and to the people living in it. The candles that offer their light during the Advent season offer a testimony to this reality.
A Christmas candle is a lovely thing;
It makes no noise at all,
But softly gives itself away;
While quite unselfish, it grows small.1
We testify of Jesus with our lives when we give ourselves away. But it is the presence of the Messiah in our lives that causes and enables us to give ourselves away in ways that are appropriate as his disciples.
So here we come to the central reality of Advent, the incarnation event. John the Baptist is indeed a fine model for us, but our primary model is the Savior who was born in Bethlehem. We serve and follow the Savior
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death --
even death on a cross.
-- Philippians 2:6-8
In the incarnation event Jesus Christ became the ultimate servant. As the lives of those who are his disciples come to be caught up more and more in his life, Jesus' servant nature will become more and more our servant nature. We will testify more and more of his life and his love by the way his life and love show through us.
Our Testimony Should Lead Others To Illumination Rather Than To Blindness
The risk is still there, though, that we will, because of pride and selfishness and weakness, come to focus more on how our testimony makes us look than on how it reflects on Jesus. If our light shines in such an inadequate way, it is damaging to us. As Harry Emerson Fosdick said, "A person completely wrapped up in himself makes a small package."2 And as he remains wrapped up in himself the wrapping will get tighter and tighter, making him smaller and smaller. In J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Gollum is someone who once possessed the powerful ring. His desire to keep it and then to reclaim it caused him to change both inwardly and outwardly into a wretched, miserable character. Selfishness and grasping will inevitably cause you to shrivel up and become nothing.
If our light shines in such an inadequate way it is also damaging to others. Our testimony is meant to shed light on Jesus; testimony that focuses on self can prevent others from seeing him.
The film, The Day of the Triffids, is not a Christmas movie by a long shot. It is a science fiction film from the early 1960s. As the film opens, a sailor is in a London hospital, his eyes completely covered by heavy bandages because he is recovering from eye surgery. It is sometime after dark. Radio news reports herald what everyone is seeing anyway: a spectacularly beautiful meteor shower. The hospital staff members marvel with the appropriate "oohs" and "ahs" as they witness the event. Sadly, or so it seems, the sailor can see none of it. Come the next morning, however, things have changed. The sailor awakens to the day that is supposed to bring the removal of his bandages and, hopefully, the restoration of his vision. But no one comes to remove the bandages. Finally, he removes them himself, only to discover that he is the only person around who can see. Everyone who had gazed on the meteor shower is blind; he, the lone sightless one the night before, is the only one who can see!
Light is supposed to help us see. In that old sci-fi film, the light caused blindness. Here between the Advents, we Christians are to be, like John the Baptist, bearing testimony to the light of the world with our lives and with our words. Having the servant mind of Christ become more and more our mind causes us to bear ever more accurate witness about who Jesus Christ really is. We dare not let our testimony become motivated by pride and self-centeredness, because then the light we offer might result in blindness rather than illumination.
__________
1. Eva K. Logue, cited in Frank S. Mead, editor & compiler, The Encyclopedia of Religious Quotations (Old Tappan: Spire, 1976), p. 111.
2. Harry Emerson Fosdick, On Being a Real Person (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1943), pp. 83-84.
Our Testimony Is About Jesus And Not About Us
"Who are you?" they asked John. "Who are you to testify the way you do, to speak the way you do?" How tempting it could have been in such a situation to say, "Why, I'm John the Baptist, that's who I am! I'm the one 'sent from God' (v. 6)! I'm the guy who wears clothes made of camel hair and who eats locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4)! I'm the one who has the truth from God and who has a whole gang of people following him, which proves, of course, that I have the truth from God! That's who I am -- I'm John! Remember that name -- John!" The risk was the risk of recognition. John was being recognized for what he was doing. Recognition means that you are drawing attention. Often when we draw attention we want to draw more attention. Pride can rear its ugly head.
The Gospel of John emphasizes the fact that John the Baptist came, not to call attention to himself, but rather "as a witness to testify to the light.... He himself was not the light, but came to testify to the light" (vv. 7a, 8). He had come to testify to the light that had come into the world, and that light of the world was Jesus. His testimony was that he was not the Messiah (v. 20) but that he was a voice testifying to the Messiah (v. 23). It was not about him; it was about Jesus. It is not about us; it is about Jesus.
Our Testimony Emerges From Our Lives
And yet -- and yet -- in a way it was about John and in a way it is about us. After all, we can only testify truthfully to what we know. John could only bear witness to what he had experienced; we can only bear witness to what we have experienced. What we truly know and what we have genuinely experienced gets down deep into our lives and changes who and what we are. It will show. Therefore, John's life had to reflect his relationship with God and with God's Son, Jesus Christ; our lives have to reflect our relationship with God and with God's Son, Jesus Christ. We can only bear valid witness with our lives. We can only bear valid witness to the light of the world when our lives are reflecting his light. So there is a tension with which we live as we testify to the light that has changed our lives. The only means with which we have to witness is our lives. But the witness of our lives is to Jesus, not to ourselves. It's a tough but necessary line to walk.
John the Baptist is a positive model for us here. He said of the Messiah of whom he was testifying, "I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal" (v. 27). In other words, John had a servant mentality. He had a genuine sense of humility because he had a genuine grasp of who Jesus was. Perhaps the best way to bear witness to Jesus with our lives is to live servant lives -- lives in which our priority is to serve God by serving others. Living a servant life is all about giving ourselves away. Such a life is a life of testimony because testimony is a giving away of self; when we testify, be it through words or through actions, something from us is being given to our world and to the people living in it. The candles that offer their light during the Advent season offer a testimony to this reality.
A Christmas candle is a lovely thing;
It makes no noise at all,
But softly gives itself away;
While quite unselfish, it grows small.1
We testify of Jesus with our lives when we give ourselves away. But it is the presence of the Messiah in our lives that causes and enables us to give ourselves away in ways that are appropriate as his disciples.
So here we come to the central reality of Advent, the incarnation event. John the Baptist is indeed a fine model for us, but our primary model is the Savior who was born in Bethlehem. We serve and follow the Savior
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death --
even death on a cross.
-- Philippians 2:6-8
In the incarnation event Jesus Christ became the ultimate servant. As the lives of those who are his disciples come to be caught up more and more in his life, Jesus' servant nature will become more and more our servant nature. We will testify more and more of his life and his love by the way his life and love show through us.
Our Testimony Should Lead Others To Illumination Rather Than To Blindness
The risk is still there, though, that we will, because of pride and selfishness and weakness, come to focus more on how our testimony makes us look than on how it reflects on Jesus. If our light shines in such an inadequate way, it is damaging to us. As Harry Emerson Fosdick said, "A person completely wrapped up in himself makes a small package."2 And as he remains wrapped up in himself the wrapping will get tighter and tighter, making him smaller and smaller. In J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Gollum is someone who once possessed the powerful ring. His desire to keep it and then to reclaim it caused him to change both inwardly and outwardly into a wretched, miserable character. Selfishness and grasping will inevitably cause you to shrivel up and become nothing.
If our light shines in such an inadequate way it is also damaging to others. Our testimony is meant to shed light on Jesus; testimony that focuses on self can prevent others from seeing him.
The film, The Day of the Triffids, is not a Christmas movie by a long shot. It is a science fiction film from the early 1960s. As the film opens, a sailor is in a London hospital, his eyes completely covered by heavy bandages because he is recovering from eye surgery. It is sometime after dark. Radio news reports herald what everyone is seeing anyway: a spectacularly beautiful meteor shower. The hospital staff members marvel with the appropriate "oohs" and "ahs" as they witness the event. Sadly, or so it seems, the sailor can see none of it. Come the next morning, however, things have changed. The sailor awakens to the day that is supposed to bring the removal of his bandages and, hopefully, the restoration of his vision. But no one comes to remove the bandages. Finally, he removes them himself, only to discover that he is the only person around who can see. Everyone who had gazed on the meteor shower is blind; he, the lone sightless one the night before, is the only one who can see!
Light is supposed to help us see. In that old sci-fi film, the light caused blindness. Here between the Advents, we Christians are to be, like John the Baptist, bearing testimony to the light of the world with our lives and with our words. Having the servant mind of Christ become more and more our mind causes us to bear ever more accurate witness about who Jesus Christ really is. We dare not let our testimony become motivated by pride and self-centeredness, because then the light we offer might result in blindness rather than illumination.
__________
1. Eva K. Logue, cited in Frank S. Mead, editor & compiler, The Encyclopedia of Religious Quotations (Old Tappan: Spire, 1976), p. 111.
2. Harry Emerson Fosdick, On Being a Real Person (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1943), pp. 83-84.
