Village Shepherd

I'd never met my cousin John, although I'd heard plenty about him from my mother. He was only a little older than I, and my mother was very fond of his parents Elizabeth and Zechariah, but we lived too far apart to meet.

My mother's soft face would take on a grim look whenever she mentioned John. He was the only child of his parents, who had been really quite old when he was born, so he was the centre of their lives. But then he'd got religion, and had disappeared into the desert for three or four years. His father had died by then, so his mother was left utterly alone. She had no idea where her beloved son was, or what he was doing.

When he emerged from the desert, such a wild, outlandish figure full of burnished zeal for God, we all assumed he must have spent the time in that monastery at Qumran, training for his new life.

The moment I heard about his exciting, new preaching and his strange, symbolic baptism - pushing people right under the surface of the Jordan to symbolise washing away their sins - I felt an unusual warmth towards him and an unexpected pricking of excitement. I knew I had to get to see him.

My mother was very angry. Apparently some old priest had warned her when I was a baby that my life had trouble in store, and she'd never forgotten it. So she always tried to over-protect me, to save me from myself. But I was a grown man now, and she knew there was nothing she could do to keep me away from John.

It was quite a trek to find John, but the nearer I got the larger the crowds grew. They loved him. He was such a fiery preacher, and reminded me so much of what I imagine the old prophets were like. He roared at the crowds, almost threatening them to turn back to God. They went down in their shoals to be ducked under the water and emerge into a new, cleaner, better life.

"Are you the Messiah?" someone shouted out.

But John shook his head. "Not me," he declared. "There's someone coming after me whose sandals I'm unworthy to even touch. That's the Messiah." And it felt like he was looking straight at me when he said it!

I couldn't hold back. It was almost as though some powerful, outside force was urging me to go forward, to receive John's baptism. Even my mother's words ringing in my ears couldn't prevent me, although I could see what she meant, for it was clear such a fearless and popular preacher as John would soon come to blows with the authorities.

Almost before I knew it I found myself waist deep in the Jordan, staring into John's dark eyes and feeling as if I'd known him all my life. But I don't know whether he was aware of anything, for he simply placed one hand on my head and one on my shoulder and roared for all the world to hear, "I baptise you in the name of God!" Then, before I had time to take breath, I was under the water. My lungs were bursting, and it felt like there was a huge light from heaven pouring into me. When I surfaced and looked up, I could see a dove hovering in the sky just above me. And there was this loud voice in my ears thundering out, "You are my beloved son. I'm well pleased with you."

I felt so high with excitement that I thought it must show. I felt like there must be light streaming out of me, and I must be nearly on fire. I looked at John, but he didn't seem to have heard or seen anything unusual, and was already baptising the next person. Perhaps this sort of thing happened to everyone who was baptised. I glanced at the crowd as I climbed out of the river, but nothing had changed for them either. They were still thoroughly enjoying themselves and enjoying the events. As much as anything, it was great entertainment for them.

But it was different for me. I emerged from that river feeling fresh and new, and with a deep conviction that God had something very special in mind for me. I was inclined to join John's band of disciples, but for some reason or other that didn't feel quite right.

I knew that I needed space for myself, and to be alone with God. So I followed John's example, and went into the wilderness. I don't think I shall be here forever, but this conviction that God has special work for me is growing and growing. I feel sure I shall soon know much more clearly what direction my life should take.

Thank God for John and his fearless preaching and his baptism! What a moment of truth that was for me! Without that perhaps I wouldn't be here now.