At a particularly low point in my life a few years ago, I began to consider my life: where I had been, what I had done, who I had known, etc. Coincidentally, these big life pondering also started to occur around my 30th birthday. The jury’s still out on whether it was a legitimate “mid-life crisis,” or just sleep deprivation from a 9 month-old that was still sleep training at the time.
These thoughts led me to think about one character in particular: John the Baptist. Even though Jesus Himself had said that “among those born of women there is no one greater than John” (Luke 7:28), the end of his life doesn’t reflect this kind of grandeur. Stuck in a prison 30 miles southeast of Jerusalem for the crime of speaking out against the Governor’s marriage, John sat alone for possibly up to two years, awaiting his fate.
By all accounts, John’s home was the Fortress of Macherus, an imposing structure built in the first century BC as a way to protect Judea from marauders approaching from the east. It stands at the top of a cliff that is 4,000 feet above the dead sea, protected by sheer rock faces on three sides that are 100-150 feet high, and has three 90-foot towers that provide surveillance and defensive capabilities. Herod had stocked this fortress with just about every type of machinery and provision he could to protect against any possible siege, as well as a beautiful fig tree that at in the middle of his courtyard. Cisterns kept the fortress stocked with fresh water around the clock.
It was most likely underneath these cisterns that John’s cell was located, which meant the last few years of John’s life were spent in a damp, humid, and most likely hot room.
What do you think he thought about in that time? If it were me, my thoughts may have drifted to my purpose on this earth and the things I still had left to accomplish. I might have bemoaned the fact that I was spending some of my best years stuck in a prison cell, when I should have been out teaching and preaching.
But you know what I would have felt the most? Useless.
Useless that I was alone. Useless that I wasn’t teaching. Useless that I was wasting my life away.
I don’t know what John thought, although I’m sure his thoughts were certainly more noble than mine would have been. If you can transport yourself to that prison cell in Macherus and put yourself in John’s shoes, here are some things you might have thought instead.
“He Must Increase, But I Must Increase.”
We know John thought this because he said it at one point (John 3:25-30). To us, 2,000 years later, it makes perfect sense: Of course his job is to pave the way for the Messiah! Of course his job is temporary! Of course he serves as the opener for Jesus’ headline act!
But try telling that to any guy who has ever achieved any level of respect among his peers. We crave power and authority, so much so that we’re willing to destroy entire countries to get it.
Just because John knew that doesn’t mean he was ok with it. It might have been hard for him to sit back and watch Jesus rise to superstardom while he wasted away in prison cell 41381B.
Yet, the Text shows that not only was he ok with it, he encouraged it of others. He calls himself the “friend of the bridegroom” (with Jesus as the bridegroom). He says that he has “heard” Jesus testimony, which is “from above.” He commands those listening to “believe” on Jesus, so that they’ll inherit eternal life (John 3:25-35).
John kept his perspective then, and it’s safe to say he kept his perspective in prison. As he sat in uncomfortable loneliness, a certain measure of contentment must have crept in, assuring him that his work was successful.
“I’m Part of Something Special.”
John had a front row seat to some of the greatest events the world would ever see. He was there at Jesus’ baptism, he most likely heard Jesus’ teachings and saw Jesus’ miracles. And not only was he a witness to these things, he would play a pivotal role in its development. What a life!
Just as Moses continued the story from Abraham, and then David, Elijah, and Daniel continued it, so did John form another chapter in the story of God’s plan to redemption.
We carry on that same work now. As Christians, we need to be aware of the greater work that we find ourselves in. The entirety of the Bible happened in a geographical space not much bigger than the state of Oklahoma; now, you have Christians evangelizing over the entire world!
You – the reader – play a role in that. Just as John understood his place as a part of something special, so should we (Luke 2:25-32; Matthew 13:10-17).
“There’s Still Work to Do.”
It’s unclear whether or not John knew that his imprisonment at Macherus would end with his death. One thing is for sure though: He never stopped working.
Herod and John seem to have had a good relationship (Mark 6:20), but John’s insistence that Herod put away his unGodly marriage landed him on the wrong side of Herod’s favor. And with Jesus increasing and John ever decreasing, it seems like he knew that his time was up.
That didn’t stop him from pressing on. Even though he knew the baton had passed to Jesus (and rightfully so), he still preached to Herod about his life. John had been faithful in so much, and now he was faithful in something that was much smaller in scope.
We tend to equate impact with reach: the greater the reach, the more of an impact we can make. Listen: If Herod was the only person that was converted by the effects of John’s teaching, and all his work was non-existent, then John’s life would have still been valuable.
John knew that he couldn’t do much locked away in a prison cell, but what he could do, he was going to do. The same is true of us. Whether you’re bed-ridden, strapped for time, in a wheelchair, or facing some kind of mental handicap, there is still work to do. Jesus glorified the widow for her two mites – not because of the quantity of her gift, but because it was all she had (2 Corinthians 8:12).
What do you have? What can you give? Where you can help?
For John, what he had was his voice and an audience of one. And he made it count. To his dying breath.
