He had only known the touch of rough garments for a long time, but I wrapped his body in linen and took it gently away to rest. We had a place ready to lay him, until the Lord should come to take him home. I would miss his voice, calling out to all those who would listen, not stopping to avoid confrontation but calling out the sinners whoever they were. Oh John – that tyrant would never have listened to you!
A Wild Way
I heard the voice first, even before being confronted with his streaming braids of hair and the animal skins around his waist. He was the son of a priest, but he had the way of a prophet. It was a wild way which held back nothing and respected no one, whatever his rank. His voice rang out like an echo through the hills as I walked towards him. Then he stood before me.
I knew he would need no introduction. He was a prophet. He knew who I was, and he knew I would follow him and become his disciple.
‘Andrew … are you ready to meet God in the wild places?’
‘Are you ready for the crowds by the water’s edge?’
‘Yes … I will come with you John. I can see that you have set eyes on the Lord God.’
The Horn
‘I am not the One who is to come Andrew. I am not the Bridegroom. I have not even set eyes on the Bridegroom. I am the horn that announces his arrival. I am the voice in the wilderness. You will not feast with me; I fast until the day dawns when I can set eyes on him.’
But I could see God reflected in his eyes. He must have met the Bridegroom?
‘Oh, I met him Andrew. I met him generations ago. I met him a lifetime ago and when we met I danced like King David before the ark and no one but my mother knew Who lay before us. Will you wait with me in the darkness, will you wait for the dawn?’
I did so.
Behold the Light
I stayed with him until he commanded me to behold that Light, who is the Lamb of God, and then I left him and followed Jesus, the Son of God.
It was inevitable that Herod would have John arrested. I did not want to think about his death though. If John were to face a tyrant, what could we imagine might happen to his cousin, Jesus? If John were to die, what fate should we expect for the One he showed us, the Lamb of God?
Herod – that weak and wicked upstart, let his vanity prevent any remaining shred of wisdom he might have stop a ghastly murder, as his consort used a child to circumvent his conscience. Even a child used to the depravity of that court must have blanched at lifting the vessel and its contents, presented as a form of gift. Oh John, your voice has been silenced but your words will always ring in our ears.
Rest with your ancestors John. You knew that your task was accomplished when you called us to gaze on the Lamb. You were content to grow less, content to be led away to imprisonment and death yourself, knowing that as the light faded for you, the Light shone out into the world at last. He will not leave your soul among the dead John; He will follow you and come to you and raise you up to life.
Thank you for a wonderful reflection. For a moment I was Andrew, and John’s death became personal.