6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

19 This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?”

20 He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.”

21 And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.”

“Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.”

22 Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”

23 He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ ” as the prophet Isaiah said.

24 Now they had been sent from the Pharisees.

25 They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”

 26 John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, 27 the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”

28 This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing. 

One of the most annoying things about free to air television is the timing of adverts. It’s usually when you are caught up in the climax of a Saturday night film when the momentum and emotion is ruined by a Coles advert: “Down, down, prices are down …” 

I have a similar sense of surprise when reading chapter 1 of John’s Gospel. The prologue begins with a beautiful rhythm of lilting poetry with cosmic intonations, only to be interrupted by a rather terse description of John, the witness to the Light: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God … There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.” Can you hear the clash of cadence? The hymn moves abruptly from poetry to prose, it clangs like Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” being interrupted by heavy metal grunge.  

This is as it should be. John’s prologue, with its cosmic hymn to the Word, interlaced with references to John, represents the New Creation, a marriage of heaven and earth. The cosmic, divine Word dances out with the breath of God and is beheld by a witness, in this case an earthy and human John. God’s story and John’s story interweave, representing the union of the finite with the Infinite, the time-bound with the Timeless Eternal, the earthling with the cosmic Word.  

John’s Gospel is an obvious and deliberate reiteration of Genesis. In the beginning God made heaven and earth (Genesis 1). In the beginning was the Word (John 1). In John’s Gospel however heaven and earth are joined together in the Word that is made flesh and dwells among us. It’s as if John 1 is a fulfilment of the dream of Psalm 85: ‘Grace and Truth are met together; justice and peace have kissed each other. Truth springs up from the ground; and justice looks down from heaven.’ This is what John witnesses to, that heaven and earth are one, that the Infinite Divine has a home within you, that you and God are one. What that means is that like the Christ, you too are Word of God breathed into the flesh that you call your life and body.  

It’s as if we have two selves. We have a self that is born and will one day die. We also have an eternal self, a timeless self that has never been born and will never die. To discover our identity as children of God is to discover the eternal self. Brother John Martin from Saccidananda relates the following story to help us understand: 

Once there was a poor man living in a small hut outside a village. Every day he went to the village to beg for his food. One day a holy man was passing that way. It was evening so he took shelter in the hut of the poor man. The next day, as he was leaving, he called the poor man and said: under your hut there are precious diamonds. Dig and you will find. Saying this, the holy man left. As soon as the holy man left, the poor man dug in his house and found the precious diamonds. He stopped going to the village to beg and lived like a rich man. He was rich because of the diamonds but had been living like a beggar not knowing the diamonds under his hut. 

We sometimes live like beggars not knowing the eternal self, the precious diamond within. The Eternal Self is the Word that made a Big Bang in the beginning and now vibrates in each one us as the
co-mingling of divinity and humanity. The New Creation that John 1 sings about is to realise and live out the marriage of heaven and earth, that the Divine Word takes shape within our own lives.  

How does the breath of God’s Word breath and love through you? Are you like Elijah? Are you like a prophet? John knew the particular shape he gave to the Word was not to be a Messiah, but to be a signpost pointing the way.  

The whole point of Advent is being incubators to the Word, the Logos, the Wisdom, that God breathes into us. We are each of us the place where heaven and earth meet, the moment of union between divine and human energies. Barbara Brown Taylor explains:  

Like John and all the other evangelists, we are breathers of the Logos. We are words about the Word before we ever say a word. However well or poorly things seem to be working out with that, there is something else at work here that has been pouring itself out for us forever, which the darkness does not overcome. Light from light. Fullness from which we have all received, grace upon grace. Christmas every day. Now it’s your turn, divine child. You’re the next step. So, what word will you be today? What divine energy will you bring to life? All creation waits eagerly to find out.