The Birth of John the Baptist, June 24

What Will This Child Be?

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85:7-13; Acts 13:14b-26; Luke 1:57-80

There is something very powerful about the name we have been given. I came to understand that through an elderly priest who lived with us for a time. Being the middle child of five I lived in the shadow of my older siblings and particularly of my sister Rebecca. I wanted to be in every way like her. She was the most beautiful, graceful person that I could imagine. She had long, curly blonde hair, which always did what it was supposed to do. She was dainty and petite. She was neat and tidy. If she ate an ice cream cone, it didn't drip. She never had any problem keeping her half of the room looking just the way mother expected it to.

On the other hand, I was just plain old Ann. My hair was straight and dark. No amount of trouble ever got even a kink into it. They teased me about how skinny I was. Can you believe that? And how I would never be able to wear a pair of nylons. As soon as I got an ice cream cone, it started to melt all over me. No matter how hard I tried, I still looked like yesterday's hand-me-downs. And my side of the bedroom always looked like a cyclone had hit it.

Then I read a childhood poem. No doubt you have heard it. Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace...

And so I asked my mother, "What day was I born on?" Fateful question! "Oh, it was a Wednesday!" That figured for me. Wednesday's child is full of woe. "What day was Rebecca born on?" I asked. But somehow I already knew. "Tuesday's child is full of grace."

It was not until I was about ten that I came to terms with it. An elderly priest, a friend of our family lived with us for a number of months. One day, I was complaining once again about the straightness of my hair. He suggested that I eat lots of carrots because they make your hair curl. I was dubious. Then he told me about my name. "Ann" he told me, "was the mother of Mary. Your name means 'graceful one'." It was a special moment of insight and transformation for a rather insecure little girl. It was that day I began to like my name.

We grow into our names. They become part of who we are. Aren't there names that you just hate because you associate them with a particular person or event? Some primitive societies regard an individual's name as containing the essence of his or her personality. If you think about it, a whole lot of things begin to make sense; the injunction in the commandments against taking the Lord's name in vain, including a saint's name at baptism, the giving of titles.

And so we come to our celebration of the birth of John the Baptist. Elizabeth was barren. She and her husband, Zechariah, a priest in the temple, had given up hope of ever having a child. Yet as they grew into old age God made a promise to Zechariah that they would have a son and that his name should be John, 'God is gracious’. When Zechariah questioned how it could possibly be, he became unable to hear or to speak.

Great joy attended the birth of this special child. Friends and relatives gathered as they do for such events. "What will you name the baby?" they all asked of Elizabeth, fully expecting that she would name the child after his father. "His name is John," she insisted. Thinking that the pain of childbirth must have affected her in some way they go off and check with the baby's father. They motion to him, "What is the baby to be called?" He writes on his tablet, "His name is John."

His power of speech is restored as a sign from God. I can imagine the scene. Zechariah standing with his newborn son in his hands, those priestly hands that had carried many offerings to the altar of God! Here he offers his son to be named by God. God has intervened twice. God has named this child. When God names a person it determines his destiny. This is a manifestation not only to Elizabeth and Zechariah but also to the people of Israel. The friends and relatives can only ponder, "What will this child become?"

And of course, John is destined to become the last of the great prophets. He is the bearer of the prophetic word as he calls the crowds to repentance, to transformation. He is the bearer of hope that their relationship with God and each other will improve. He is the forebear of the light that will come into the world. God is indeed gracious.

John’s vocation was to truly live up to his name. He was called to challenge injustice, to subvert the things that keep us from God, to embrace the Christian life, and above all to point people toward Jesus Christ. That is a pretty amazing vocation, one to which all of us must aspire.

"What will this child become?" is not only an interesting question. It is the whole point of the narrative.

It is the question we must continually ask of ourselves, for at the very depth of human longing is the hope that such a message brings. There are times of barrenness in our lives when we lose sight of God's promises. We pray but our prayer is dry and lifeless. We wonder if God has abandoned us, or if there is any God there at all. Is our plea falling on deaf ears? We are unable to open our hearts in praise.

And then somehow God sends us a gracious gift: a kind word from a friend, an unexpected phone call, a ray of sunshine, an awareness of God's presence. Whatever it might be, it somehow awakens us to the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. We begin to understand that God is greater than all the suffering that we have endured. We experience the faithfulness of God in our lives. We know that we are beloved children of God. And we cannot help but sing praises to God who created us, sustains us and redeems us.

So what will you become, you child of God? For God has named you. There is such hope in that naming. For God helps us to become all that we are meant to be. Thanks be to God.