Saturday after Epiphany

Lectionary: 217

 No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven.
You yourselves can testify that I said that I am not the Christ,
but that I was sent before him.

As the Christmas season ends we hear the last words of Saint John the Baptist. He has finished his work, which was to testify to the Messiah. Pondering his brief moment on the stage, he says, “No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven.”

He lived in the desert by the Jordan River almost like an animal, eating locusts and wild honey, dressed in crude animal skins. His food was like that provided to Elijah as he rested under the broom tree; and his clothing resembled that of Adam and Eve, which had “been given from heaven.”

His willingness to live with whatever God provided lends credence to the exhortation of Saint John the Evangelist:

We have this confidence in him
that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.

Misreading the text, some people will complain that they didn’t get the things they wanted when they prayed. As Janice Joplin sang,

“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz;
my friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my life, no help from my friends.
So Lord won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?  

Neither Jesus nor John the Baptist drove a Mercedes Benz. From what I hear, Pope Francis chauffeurs himself in a compact Ford Focus.

The servant of God may expect whatever is needed in the service of God, including the luxury of divine companionship -- and little more. That is our assurance.

The original Francis (of Assisi) set out to prove God’s reliability by living with no provision for tomorrow. He wanted to live like the birds of the air and the fish of the sea:

Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? (Matthew 6:28-30)

As Saint John the Baptist disappears into the Gospel narrative, we remember his faithful reliance on God. A New Year is upon us with January’s expectations of a better future. A new Pope challenges us to consider our ways. The Economy and those who control it regard you and me as expendable commodities and insatiable consumers. 

Can God’s way be more difficult, more exhausting or more perverse than this life of consumption?