[In a loud, forceful voice:] "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance! Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham! Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down — and thrown into the fire!"

Now, that’s preachin’. I don’t mind telling you that I’ve always been a little afraid of John the Baptist. I mean, hollering at people that they are a "brood of vipers" is not exactly the style of most Episcopal priests, and certainly isn’t my style. But, you’ve gotta admit, this guy’s gonna wake you up. And he’s clear. And there’s not much ambiguity in his message. And he doesn’t futz around about God’s willingness to punish those who don’t produce. He calls people to a strict moral code that’s easy to understand, and if you follow that code it’s also pretty easy to know who’s in and who’s out, who’s bearing good fruit and who’s going to feel the axe and the fire.

This is a prophet of clear rules and clear consequences. And that can be very attractive, even to me. I like clear rules and clear consequences. It’s so neat and clean.

The people listening to John seemed to respond as well. They ask for rulings from this rule-giver. And he’s no crowd-pleasing, wishy-washy, namby-pamby. "You want to know the rules?" he asks. "I’ll tell you the rules: if you have two coats, share one with someone who needs it. You tax collectors, don’t collect your commission, only what the Romans require [which, by the way, would mean that there would be no profit at all in collaborating with the Romans as a tax collector]. And you soldiers, don’t use your position for personal gain."

Clear, concise rules, all grounded in Scripture, all delivered with confidence, not a hint of uncertainty or ambiguity. There’s something very attractive about that. I, at least, can be very attracted to that clarity and certainty. And I think lots of folks are. Turn on the TV or go to some other churches and you’ll find lots of preaching modeled after John the Baptizer. Lots of those preachers say to either their own people or (if they don’t have the guts for that) to groups not present (like Episcopalians), "You brood of vipers! You better save yourselves or you’ll be thrown into the fire! And here’s exactly what you need to do."

Having clear rules backed up by clear punishments, even if they are frightening, is obviously a crowd pleaser — just look at how full the churches are that preach that message.

And, in fact, there is certainly truth to it. We Episcopalians are not people who don’t stand for anything. Far from it. John is right to call people to a high ethical standard. We call people to a high ethical standard. Before you can find the freedom in being a follower of Jesus, you must submit to the discipline of living ethically and morally. If you cheat people, cheat on your spouse, cheat with somebody else’s spouse, lie, covet, coerce, abuse, horde, whatever it is — stop it! I don’t care about the circumstances or how much you need to or how much they deserve it. Just stop it!

Wow! That feels good! Some of that John preachin’. We need some of that John preachin’ every now and then, all of us do. And, you know, if that’s all I did, if I were willing to stand up here every week and point at you and shout, "You brood of vipers" or point at someone who is not here and shout, "That brood of vipers," and then if I gave you very clear, concise, unambiguous rules to follow (so you wouldn’t have to figure things out on you own too much), and scared you with the threat of hellfire if you broke the rules, and if I just condemned lots of people and groups, and glossed it all over with a veneer of "Jesus loves you," — well, based on what I’ve seen, I think we could increase attendance, and I’m certain we could expand the budget.

When I hear these Christians that operate out of that mode, what I think of as that "John the Baptist mode," I have to admit that I’m sometimes envious of the clarity they enjoy, the clear rules about who’s in and who’s out, and what dire things are going to happen to the ones who are out. I’m sometimes envious of their lack of ambiguity, their certainty about the smallest details, and (God help me, I’ll admit it) I’m jealous of their popularity.

And sometimes, since here in the South I’m so vastly outnumbered by them, I can’t help but think, "Could they be right? Could it be that we really should be in a "John the Baptist mode" of Christianity? Should I maybe just give up swimming against this current and start shouting, ‘You brood of vipers!?"

That’s how John thought it was going to go. He said, "One is coming after me who will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. And folks, you better hang on, because if you think I was something, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. His winnowing fork is in his hand and he will gather the wheat, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. He will be me in spades; the rules will be even clearer, and there will be even less question about who God loves and who God will punish."

That’s what John thought. So why do we Episcopalians keep swimming against this current of John the Baptist mode of Christianity?

Because John was wrong. Not all wrong, but not all right, either. After he was imprisoned, and he saw what Jesus turned out to be like, he realized that either he’d gotten it wrong, or Jesus wasn’t the Messiah. He sent messengers to Jesus asking. Jesus always affirmed John; he praised him. (Lk. 7: 18-35). We need to be reminded of the very real ethical requirements of our faith.

But it was clear that John only got it partly right —we are called to practice justice — but Jesus brings a whole new dimension of God’s love that goes beyond John’s purity codes.

As we look toward the empty manger, we know that the baby who will go there will grow up to be a man who eats with sinners, a man who will say things like, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you;" (Lk. 16: 27-29) "Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." (Lk. 16: 37) He will say that even the evil and the unrighteous are God’s children. (Mt. 5: 45). Jesus left John asking, "Who is this guy? Could God really have sent this kind of Messiah?"

It’s tempting to pack the house and raise the budget by ranting, and condemning, and being oh so very sure of who’s in and who’s out, whom God loves and whom God punishes. But when I look at that empty manger, and think of the astounding manifestation of pure love who will inhabit it, I have to say, "Sorry, John, but we know this guy, and God really did send this kind of Messiah."