Nativity of St. John the Baptist

Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB - celebrant

Isaiah 49:1–6
Acts 13:22–26
Luke 1:57–66, 80

A birth brings joy. New life has come into the world. We feel it today in the gospel story about the birth of John the Baptist. The parents rejoice; their barrenness has been wiped away. The villagers join in the rejoicing. The villagers and relatives are so excited. They want to have their say in this wonderful blessing. When the eighth day comes to name the child, that is to say, to give him his identity, the relatives and villagers seem to know what to do, what the name will be. It was understood that one’s identity is in the name. They will name the child according to tradition.

At this point the domestic scene gives way to another story. The reaction of those around moves from rejoicing at the blessing of a birth to amazement and fear. What is really happening here? When Elizabeth and Zechariah insist that the baby boy is to be named “John”, all know that the birth is out of their hands. This is not just a usual domestic scene; this is a work from on high.

This is a God-event wrapped in a birth story. The family and relatives are right to say God has shown his mercy in this birth. And that mercy is to be part and parcel of the name of the child: John, God is gracious. What we are celebrating today is the graciousness of God. God is being faithful to his promise and to his word. In this child, the God revealed as mercy and kindness on Mt Sinai is now moving to live even in the domestic life of a family— And then beyond the domestic scene into the world at large. This child is a Spirit-filled person, one whom God has formed in the womb and one whom God has named. The parents, the relatives, the villagers find themselves swept up into a story of mystery.

The birth of John the Baptist is God’s work, God’s blessing to an old couple. The parents, Elizabeth and Zechariah, the relatives and friends suddenly realize that the God of Abraham is acting again. What he did once for Sarah and Abraham, the old couple, he is doing again. But the birth of this child has implications far beyond the local village. It is a blessing in that through them God is keeping his promise to visit his people. The herald of God’s visit is born. God is coming to live with us. And that is cause for awe and rejoicing. They are witnessing what many of the ancestors before them waited for and longed to see.

When Zechariah writes the name on the tablet, when he writes “John is his name” he can talk again. His silence is broken. He breaks into song to say that the tender compassion of our God is dawning, breaking upon us. It will shine where there is darkness and death. God’s compassion is dawning so that you and I can rise and walk. The light is coming so that the way of forgiveness and peace opens up for us. Our fears are laid aside to hear and find the graciousness that is being born each day. The name of the child heralds a new view of the world and of our God in that world. No wonder Zechariah says, “Blessed be God.” In the words of an Advent carol, “Love is at the door.”

Our human tendency is to domesticate the prophet, domesticate the Word. We are happy to receive this word, but in the end, like the relatives, we want to take charge of it, we want to name it. But our God won’t let us. That is what this birth of the Baptist is about. Rejoicing that something new and wonderful can happen beyond our expectations, but at the same time realizing that God has a story to tell, God has a presence in our lives. But it is always his presence, his grace. “God is gracious” is born today.

Where is the graciousness of God breaking into our lives and into our world today? Can we rejoice in its arrival even if it is in simple quiet domestic settings? Can we rejoice when we see God’s blessing happening in the lives of others? Are we heralding the arrival of the God of mercy? “God is gracious is born today, love is at the door” Let us join the relatives and villagers and wonder: What can such graciousness mean for our lives?

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB