“My name shall be
John”
“No! His
Name Shall Be John.”
(Lk. 1:60)
The Nativity of
John the Baptist, June 24, 2012
Isaiah: 49:1-6 Acts 13:22-26 Luke 1:57-66, 80
Alleluia,
alleluia.
A reading
from the holy Gospel according to Luke
Glory
to you, Lord.
When the time arrived for Elizabeth to have her child she gave
birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown His
great mercy toward her, and they rejoiced with her. When the baby was eight
days old, all the relatives and friends came for the circumcision ceremony. They all assumed the baby’s name would be
Zechariah, after his father. But Elizabeth said, "No! His name shall be
John."
But they answered her, "There is no one among your
relatives who has this name." Now Zechariah had been made mute – unable to
speak – for not believing the angel Gabriel who told him that his wife would
bear a son, John the Baptist. So by means of gestures they asked him what name
he wanted for his son. Zechariah signaled for a writing tablet and on it, to
everyone’s surprise, he wrote: “No! His name shall not be Zechariah. His name
shall be John.” Immediately Zechariah’s power of speech returned, and he began
praising God.
The neighbors were all filled with awe, and the whole
affair was talked about throughout the hill country of Judea. All who heard it
were deeply impressed and asked, “What is this child going to be?” It was plain
that the Lord’s power was with him. The child grew up and his spirit matured.
And he lived out in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to the
people of Israel.
The
Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord
Jesus Christ.
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Introduction
The Baptist’s birthday replacing the 12th Sunday
The liturgical
calendar celebrates only three birthdays: on December 25 the birthday of Jesus,
on September 8 the birthday of Mary, and today June 24 the birthday of John the
Baptist. Whenever a very important feast day lands on a Sunday, it liturgically
replaces the celebration of that Sunday. Because of the important role the
Baptist played in the story of salvation, the 12th Sunday of
Ordinary Time (landing this year on the June 24) is replaced by the Baptist’s birthday.
A bit of liturgical trivia
The
liturgical calendar (which makes no claim to historical exactness) sets Jesus’
birthday on December 25. Counting back nine months from December 25, the
Annunciation (which announces the moment of Mary’s conception of Jesus) takes
place on March 25. Since Elizabeth was already six months pregnant with John at
the moment of Jesus’ conception (Lk. 1:36), someone who’s a sticker on
precision might wonder why the Baptist’s birthday is placed on June 24 instead
of June 25. Why are the conception and birth of Jesus exactly nine months
apart, while the conception and birth of the Baptist are nine months minus one day apart?
Answer:
John the Baptist is presented as being born on the 24th instead of the
25th to make a point: though both births are miraculous,
they’re quite different. One is about the Son of God, and the other is about
the son of Elizabeth and Zachary. It’s a bit of liturgical trivia which answers
a question which most of us would never think of asking. That bit of trivia,
however, wishes to make a point.
John’s mission: to point
to Jesus
Throughout the New
Testament there is puzzlement about who is greater - Jesus or John. And there
are various strokes in the gospels which make it clear that Jesus is the greater. When Mary visits
her cousin Elizabeth, the cousin bows low before Mary, as the lesser bows low before
the greater. Then the babe in Mary's womb blesses the babe in Elizabeth’s womb,
as the greater blesses the lesser. (Lk. 1:41)
In his canticle Zachariah underscores the superiority of Mary’s son over
his own son: “You, my child [John], will be called the prophet of the Most High
God. You will go before the Lord to prepare a straight and smooth road for Him
to travel on.” (Lk. 1:76)
When the Baptist
grew up, he went forth on a mission to point to Jesus. One day the Jewish
authorities ask John, “Who are you?” He makes it clear that he’s not the
Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet, but that there is One coming after him “whose
sandal straps I am not worthy to untie.” (Jn. 1:25-27) When Jesus was passing
by one day, the Baptist pointed to Him and exclaimed, "There He is! There
is the Lamb of God! There is the one who takes away the sin of the world!"
(Jn. 1:30) John’s pointing to Jesus reaches a climax when some of his followers
complain that everyone is flocking to Jesus instead of to him. John tells them, “He must increase, and I must
decrease.” (Jn. 3:30) St. Augustine says of the beheaded Baptist: “Yes, indeed,
John did decrease by a whole head!”
Pope
John’s mission: to point to Jesus
When the Baptist
was born, relatives and neighbors gathered a week later for the circumcision
and the naming of the infant. They asked, “By what name shall the child be
called? Some said “Zechariah” after his
father. But Elizabeth said, “No! His name shall be
John.”
(Lk 1:60) When Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, the Patriarch of Venice, was elected pope on October 28, 1958, the presiding Cardinal Dean following an ancient custom approached the pope-elect and asked, "Quo nomine vocaberis?" “By what name shall you be called?” Cardinal Roncalli answered: "My name shall be John.” He chose to be named after that great precursor who pointed fervently to Jesus and exclaimed, "There He is! There is the Lamb of God!” Then like his new namesake, Pope John went forth to point to Jesus.
The
very next day after his coronation, John sped
off through elaborate Vatican gates to point to Jesus. He visited aging brother
priests in nursing homes. He visited inmates in the nearby Regina Coeli Prison along the Tiber. He told them: “I come to you,
because you couldn’t come to me.”
A truly historical
course correction
Then John summoned his
Church to the Second Vatican Council
(Oct. 11, 1962 - Dec. 8, 1965), and he assigned the
Church the task of pointing not to herself but to Christ. Of the 16 documents produced
by Vatican II to govern the future life of the Universal Church, Lumen Gentium (or The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church) stands as the Council’s
most sparkling gem. The document, which
treats of the very nature of the Church, is courageous and revolutionary. In the
very first line of Lumen Gentium the council Fathers obeyed the task which Good
Pope John assigned them: to point not to Church but to Christ: “Since Christ [not the Church] is the light
of the nations.…[1]”
After centuries of the
Church’s addiction to self-preoccupation, self-protection, self-affirmation and
at times self-aggrandizement that was, indeed, a truly historical course
correction - at least on paper. After many convulsions and withdrawal symptoms,
the Church in Council, like a good John the Baptist, pointed not to herself but
to Christ.
The People
of God before the Hierarchy
Lumen Gentium continues its historical course correction
when it teaches that the hierarchy exists for the laity, and not the laity for
the hierarchy. In the preliminary version of the document, the chapter on “The
Hierarchy” preceded the chapter on “The People of God.” That made one council Father
rise to the floor and hotly voice his complaint: “Why is it that whenever we
the hierarchy speak about the Church, we immediately point to ourselves? We are not the Church; the People of God are the Church. They don’t exist for us; we the
hierarchy exist for them.” That voice prevailed in the finally approved
document: the chapter on “The People of God” preceded the chapter on “The
Hierarchy.” That momentous change came to be called the `Copernican Revolution
of Vatican II.’ (Yes, it’s a change as yet mostly on paper, but `paper’ is important in the life of
the Church.)
“We had John too briefly.”
Morris
L. West (1916-1999), an Australian writer, spent 12 years in a monastery of the
Christian Brothers, but left without taking final vows. West is famous among
Catholics especially for his books The
Devil’s Advocate and The Shoes of the
Fisherman. The latter work envisioned the election and career of a Slavic
Pope, 15 years before a Slav, Polish Cardinal Karol Wojtyła, was elected pope
and took the name John Paul II.
In a little volume entitled, A View
from the Ridge written
in 1996, West in his eightieth year writes that he feels like a mountain
climber who after a long and arduous ascent has reached a height, and then
pauses to catch his breath to muster up enough strength for the last lap of his
journey. In one chapter of this little volume West (writing out of his own
personal life experiences in and with the Church) paints contrasting portraits
of John XXIII and his successor John Paul II. Though West was a kind of man’s
man, when he writes of John XXIII, he becomes quite emotional.
I am very close to tears as I
begin to set down the words. What can I say of a man so manifestly good? In his
hands the crosier of the bishop has meant what it was meant to mean—the crook
of the kindly Shepherd, to whom the way-worn and the stragglers meant more than
those penned up safely in the sheepfold.
West continues,
I believe I can say with certainty that I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself excluded me,[2] and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of John XXIII, the Good Pastor, whom I never met, though I did meet his predecessor and his successor. Goodness went out from this man to me. I acknowledged it then. I acknowledge it again.
The
Romans named him un Papa simpatico.
And everyone wished he were younger, so that the imprint of his personality
might be deeper on the corporate life of the Church and the common life of the
world. We had had a surfeit of princes and politicians and theologians – even
of conventional saints. We needed a man who spoke the language of the heart,
who understood that the dialogue of God with man is carried on in terms far
different from the semantics of professional philosophers. We had John too
briefly.
Conclusion
Despite everything we also remain.
West
said, “I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself
excluded me, and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of
John XXIII, the Good Pastor.” Despite everything, we also remain in communion
with the Church. Despite the pedophile scandal in the clergy; despite the Church’s
refusal to deal meaningfully with the critical shortage of priests; despite her
macho approach to the ordination of women; despite the Church’s great pretense
that gays do not exist and that the faithful don’t practice birth control;
despite the Church’s preoccupation with matters which don’t much preoccupy the
faithful, like changing the liturgical text “The Lord be with you” to “The Lord
be with your spirit” etc.-- despite everything we also remain in communion with
the Church principally because of people like Francis of Assisi, Mother Theresa
of Calcutta, Morris West, and Good Pope John.