Homily 17 — John 1, verses 28 to 34

“These things took place in Bethany beyond the Jordan, where John was baptizing. The next day he sees Jesus coming to him, and says, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’” [a]

Boldness and freedom of speech are a great virtue, and so is putting everything else second to confessing Christ. It is so great and so admirable a virtue that the only Son of God proclaims such a person in the presence of the Father (Luke 12, verse 8). And yet the reward is more than fair: you confess him on earth, he confesses you in heaven; you in the presence of men, he before the Father and all the angels.

John was a man like that. He paid no regard to the crowd, or to reputation, or to anything else that belongs to human beings. He trampled all of it underfoot and proclaimed the truth about Christ to everyone with fitting freedom. That is why the evangelist marks the very place: to show the boldness of the loud-voiced herald. It was not in a house, not in a corner, not in the wilderness, but in the middle of the crowd, after he had taken his stand at the Jordan, with all those he was baptizing standing by — for the Jews came to him while he was baptizing. It was there that he loudly proclaimed that wonderful confession about Christ, full of those lofty, great and mysterious teachings, and said that he was not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal. That is why he says, “These things took place in Bethany,” or, as all the more accurate copies have it, “in Bethabara.” For Bethany was not “beyond the Jordan,” or on the edge of the wilderness, but somewhere near Jerusalem.

He marks the places for another reason too. He was not about to tell of things long past, but of things that had happened only a short time before. So he makes those who had been there and seen them witnesses of his words, and he supplies proof from the places themselves. He was confident that he had added nothing of his own to what was said, but was describing things simply and truthfully, just as they were. So he draws testimony from the places, which, as I said, would be no ordinary proof of his truthfulness.

“The next day he sees Jesus coming to him, and says, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’”

The evangelists divided the periods among themselves. Matthew cuts short his account of the time before John the Baptist was put in chains and hurries on to what followed, while the evangelist John not only does not cut this period short but dwells on it most of all. After Jesus returns from the wilderness, Matthew says nothing of what happened in between — what John said, and what the Jews sent to ask and what they said. He cuts all the rest short and passes straight on to the prison: “When Jesus heard,” he says, that John had been handed over, “he withdrew from there” (Matthew 4, verse 12). John does not do this. He says nothing of the journey into the wilderness, since Matthew has described it. But he tells what followed the coming down from the mountain, and after going through many events he adds, “For John had not yet been thrown into prison” (John 3, verse 24).

“And why,” someone says, “does Jesus come to him now? Why does he come not just once, but this second time as well?” For Matthew says his coming was necessary for the sake of baptism, for Jesus adds, “This is how it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3, verse 15). But John says that he came again after his baptism, and he makes this plain in this passage, for he says, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him.” Why, then, did he come to John? He did not come by chance; he went to him on purpose. “John,” says the evangelist, “sees Jesus coming to him.” Why, then, does he come? John had baptized him along with many others. So he comes in order that no one would suppose he had hurried to John for the same reason as the rest, to confess sins and to wash in the river for repentance. He comes for this: to give John the opportunity to set this opinion right again. For by saying, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,” John removes the whole suspicion. It is perfectly plain that one so pure that he can wash away the sins of others does not come to confess sins. He comes to give that marvelous herald the opportunity to impress what he had said more firmly on those who had heard his earlier words, and to add more besides.

The word “Look” is used because many had been looking for him because of what had been said, and for a long time. That is why, pointing him out now that he was present, he said, “Look”: this is the one you have sought so long; this is “the Lamb.” He calls him “Lamb” to remind the Jews of Isaiah’s prophecy and of the shadow under the law of Moses, so that he might lead them more easily from the type to the reality. That lamb of Moses did not at once take away anyone’s sin; but this one took away the sin of the whole world. For when the world was in danger of perishing, he quickly rescued it from the wrath of God.

Verse 30: “This is he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me has been put before me.’”

Do you see how here, too, he explains the word “before”? He called him “Lamb,” and said that he “takes away the sin of the world,” and then he says, “He has been put before me, for he was before me.” He is declaring that this is the “before”: taking on himself the sins of the world, and baptizing with the Holy Spirit. “My coming had no further purpose than to proclaim the common Benefactor of the whole world and to give the baptism of water. His coming was to cleanse all people and to give them the power of the Comforter.” “He has been put before me” means he has shone out more brightly than I, because “he was before me.” Let those who have taken up the madness of Paul of Samosata be ashamed, when they set themselves against so plain a truth. [f]

Verse 31: “And I did not know him,” he says.

Here he makes his testimony free of suspicion by showing that it did not come from human friendship but was produced by divine revelation. “I did not know him,” he says. “How, then, could you be a trustworthy witness? How will you teach others, when you yourself do not know?” He did not say, “I do not know him,” but, “I did not know him.” In this way he would be shown to be entirely trustworthy; for why would he have shown favor to someone he did not know?

“But so that he might be revealed to Israel, that is why I came baptizing with water.”

So he himself did not need baptism, and that washing had no other purpose than to prepare for everyone else a way to faith in Christ. For John did not say, “so that I might cleanse those who are baptized,” or, “so that I might set them free from their sins,” but, “so that he might be revealed to Israel.” “And why, tell me, could he not have preached without baptism and brought the crowds to him that way?” Because that way it would not have been at all easy. They would not all have flocked together as they did if the preaching had come without the baptism, and they would not have learned his superiority by comparing the two. The crowd did not gather to hear John’s words. For what, then? To be “baptized, confessing their sins.” But when they came, they were taught about Christ, and about how his baptism was different. Even John’s baptism was of greater dignity than the Jewish washings, and that is why everyone ran to it; and yet even so it was incomplete.

“How, then, did you come to know him?” “By the coming down of the Spirit,” he says. But again, so that no one would suppose he needed the Spirit as we do, listen to how he removes the suspicion, by showing that the Spirit came down only to point out Christ. Having said, “And I did not know him,” he adds, “But the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit descending and remaining, this is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit’” (verse 33).

Do you see that this was the Spirit’s work, to point out Christ? John’s testimony was not open to suspicion; but wanting to make it still more believable, he carries it up to God and the Holy Spirit. For John had testified to something so great and wonderful, so fit to astonish everyone who heard it: that he alone took on himself the sins of the whole world, and that the greatness of the gift was enough for so great a ransom. After that he proves the claim. And the proof is that he is the Son of God, that he did not need baptism, and that the Spirit came down only to make him known. For it was not in John’s power to give the Spirit, as those whom he baptized show when they say, “We have not even heard whether there is a Holy Spirit” (Acts 19, verse 2). In truth, Christ did not need baptism, neither John’s nor any other; rather, baptism needed Christ’s power. For what was lacking was the crowning blessing of all: that the one baptized should be counted worthy of the Spirit. This free gift of the Spirit, then, he added when he came.

Verses 32 to 34: “And John bore witness, saying, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. And I did not know him; but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “The one on whom you see the Spirit descending and remaining on him, this is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” And I saw, and bore witness that this is the Son of God.’”

He puts in “I did not know him” again and again. For what reason, and why? He was his relative according to the flesh: “Look,” says the angel, “your relative Elizabeth has also conceived a son” (Luke 1, verse 36). So that he might not seem to favor him because of their kinship, he repeats, “I did not know him.” And this was quite natural, for he had spent all his time in the wilderness, away from his father’s house.

How, then, if he did not know him before the Spirit came down, and recognized him only then for the first time, did he try to stop him before the baptism, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (Matthew 3, verse 14). That was proof that he knew him very well. Yet he had not known him before, or for a long time, and with good reason. The wonders that happened when he was a child, such as the affair of the Magi and others like it, had taken place long before, when John himself was very young. Since much time had passed in between, he was naturally unknown to everyone. If he had been known, John would not have said, “So that he might be revealed to Israel, that is why I came baptizing.”

From this it is clear to us that the miracles people say belong to Christ’s childhood are false, the inventions of certain people who bring them forward. For if he had begun working wonders from an early age, John could not have failed to know him, and the crowd would not have needed a teacher to make him known. But as it is, John says that he came for this very purpose, “so that he might be revealed to Israel”; and that is also why he said, “I need to be baptized by you.” [j]

Afterward, as one who had come to know him more exactly, he proclaimed him to the crowd, saying, “This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who has been put before me.’” For “the one who sent me to baptize with water,” and sent me for this purpose, “so that he might be revealed to Israel,” himself revealed him, even before the Spirit came down. That is why, even before he came, John said, “One comes after me who has been put before me.” He did not know him before he came to the Jordan and baptized everyone; but when he was about to be baptized, then he knew him. And this came from the Father revealing him to the prophet, and from the Spirit pointing him out, as he was being baptized, to the Jews — for whose sake, indeed, the Spirit came down.

For John had said that “he was before me,” that “he baptizes with the Spirit,” and that “he judges the world.” So that his witness would not be despised, the Father sends out a voice proclaiming the Son, and the Spirit comes down, directing that voice onto the head of Jesus. Since one was baptizing and the other receiving baptism, the Spirit comes to correct the idea some of those present might form, that the words were spoken of John. So when he says, “I did not know him,” he is speaking of the earlier time, not the time close to the baptism. Otherwise, how could he have tried to stop him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you”? How could he have said such words about him?

“But,” someone says, “why, then, did the Jews not believe? It was not only John who saw the Spirit in the form of a dove.” It was because, even if they did see it, such things need not only the eyes of the body but, more than these, the sight of the understanding, to keep people from supposing the whole thing was an empty illusion. When they saw him working wonders, touching the sick and the dead with his own hands and so bringing them back to health and life, they were so drunk with malice that they declared the opposite of what they saw. How, then, could they shake off their unbelief because of the Spirit’s coming down alone?

And some say that they did not all see it, but only John and those among them who were better disposed. For even if it was possible to see with the eyes of the flesh the Spirit coming down in the form of a dove, it still did not follow at all that the event had to be visible to everyone. Zechariah saw many things in a form the senses could perceive, as did Daniel and Ezekiel, and they had no one to share what they saw. Moses too saw many things such as no one else has seen. Not all the disciples enjoyed the sight of the Transfiguration on the mountain, and not all alike saw him at the time of the resurrection. Luke shows this plainly when he says that he showed himself “to witnesses chosen beforehand by God” (Acts 10, verse 41).

“And I saw, and bore witness that this is the Son of God.”

Where did he “bear witness that this is the Son of God”? He did call him “Lamb,” and said that he would “baptize with the Spirit,” but nowhere did he say of him, “Son of God.” But the other evangelists do not record that he said anything after the baptism. They pass over the time in between in silence and mention the miracles of Christ that were done after John was taken prisoner. From this we may reasonably guess that these words and many others have been left out. And our evangelist himself has declared this at the end of his account. For the evangelists were so far from inventing anything grand about him that the very things that seem to bring reproach are the ones they have all set down with one voice and with complete exactness, and you will not find one of them leaving out a single such detail. But of the miracles, some have left part for the others to tell, and part all of them have passed over in silence.

I do not say this without reason. I say it to answer the shamelessness of the pagans. For this is enough to prove the evangelists’ love of the truth, and that they say nothing to win favor. In this way, as in others, you can arm yourselves for the contest of argument with them. But be careful. It would be strange if the doctor, or the shoemaker, or the weaver — in short, every craftsman — could each argue correctly for his own craft, while someone who calls himself a Christian could not give a reason for his own faith. And yet those things, if neglected, bring only a loss to people’s property, while these, if neglected, destroy our very souls. But such is our wretched disposition that we give all our care to the former, while the things that are necessary, the very foundation of our salvation, we despise as though they were worth little.

That is what keeps the pagan from quickly laughing at his own error. They are grounded in a lie, yet they use every means to hide how shameful their opinions are; while we, the servants of the truth, cannot even open our mouths. How, then, can they help condemning the great weakness of our teaching? How can they help suspecting that our religion is fraud and folly? How will they not blaspheme Christ as a deceiver and a cheat, who used the foolishness of the many to further his fraud? And we are to blame for this blasphemy, because we will not stay awake to the arguments for godliness, but think these things superfluous and care only for the things of earth. [o]

The man who admires a dancer, or a charioteer, or one who fights with wild beasts, uses every effort and every device so as not to come off worst in any argument about him. People like that string together long speeches of praise as they compose their defense against those who find fault with their favorites, and they heap countless sneers on their opponents. But when arguments for Christianity are put forward, they all hang their heads, and scratch themselves, and gape, and in the end slink away as objects of contempt.

Does this not deserve the greatest anger, when Christ is shown to be less honored in your eyes than a dancer? You have thought up ten thousand defenses for the things those people have done, though they are more disgraceful than anything; but about the miracles of Christ, though they have drawn the world to him, you cannot bear even to think or to care at all.

We believe in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, in the resurrection of bodies, and in life everlasting. Now if some pagan says, “What is this Father? What is this Son? What is this Holy Spirit? How can you, who say there are three gods, accuse us of having many gods?” what will you say? What will you answer? How will you beat back the attack of these arguments? And what if, while you are silent, the unbeliever puts this other question as well, and asks, “What, in a word, is resurrection? Will we rise again in this body, or in another, different from this one? If in this one, why does it need to be dissolved?” What will you answer? And what if he says, “Why did Christ come now, and not in the old days? Has he decided only now to care for human beings, and did he despise us all through the years that have gone by?” Or what if he asks other questions besides, more than these? I must not put forward many questions and keep silent about their answers, or in doing so I may harm the simpler among you. What has been said already is enough to shake off your drowsiness.

Well, then, if they ask these questions and you cannot so much as listen to the words, tell me, will we suffer only a slight punishment, when we have been the cause of such error to those who sit in darkness? I wanted, if you had had enough leisure, to bring before you the whole book that a certain impure pagan philosopher wrote against us, and that of another, earlier one, so that at least I might rouse you and lead you away from your great laziness. For if they stayed awake to say these things against us, what pardon can we deserve if we do not even know how to beat back the attacks made on us? For what purpose, then, have we been brought forward? Do you not hear the apostle say, “Be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you” (First Peter 3, verse 15)? And Paul urges the same, saying, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly” (Colossians 3, verse 16).

What do those who are lazier than drones say to this? “Blessed is every simple soul,” and, “He who walks simply walks securely” (Proverbs 10, verse 9). For this is the cause of every kind of evil: most people do not know how to apply correctly even the testimony of the Scriptures. Here, for instance, the writer does not mean by “simple” the man who is foolish or knows nothing, but the one who is free of wickedness, who does no evil, who is wise. If it were not so, it would have been useless to say, “Be wise as serpents, and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10, verse 16).

But why do I bring these things up, when the subject has come in quite out of place? For besides the things already mentioned, other matters are not right with us either — I mean those that concern our life and conduct. We are wretched and ridiculous in every way, always ready to find fault with one another, but slow to correct in ourselves the things for which we blame and accuse our neighbor. So I urge you: now at least let us pay attention to ourselves. Let us not stop at finding fault — that is not enough to appease God — but let us show a change that is in every way the most excellent, so that having lived here to the glory of God, we may enjoy the glory to come. May we all attain it, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.