Malachi 3:1-4, Commemorating John the Baptist

Malachi 3:1-4 (NRSV)

​John the Baptist

See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the LORD whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight — indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?

For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years.

Observation:
I'm struck by the harshness of the metaphor of a refiner's fire. I can understand why this would be an appointed text for the Feast of Saint John the Baptist. John's preaching and teaching was full of fire, to be sure. He warned that one coming after him would separate the wheat from the chaff, and burn away everything in us that was not part of the just and equitable Reign of God that was coming.

Fire can be painful and destructive. It can rage out of control. I am reminded of the devastating forest fires that claimed so many lives and homes in California two years ago. Metaphorically, that was exactly how John the Baptist was: uncontrollable, volatile, and liable to burn some of the very people others may have wanted him to reach out to. But his job wasn't to make lots of friends. It was to prepare people for the holy fire that was coming.

Application:
I'm an incorrigible people-pleaser. I often see my job as putting out fires, rather than starting them. But these words from Malachi, and the story of John the Baptist, remind me that some fires are good. They burn away our excuses and nonsense. They leave behind what is most core to our identity: what we most value. What we worship. And if, at that level, what we worship isn't God, maybe it's time to start from scratch anyway.

Sometimes I find myself looking with disapproval on people who use strong, fiery language to get their point across: people like John the Baptist. What John the Baptist understood, that I sometimes forget, is that some people need that fire lit under their feet, even if it means they'll be turned off to me. John the Baptist didn't assume he was the whole operation, and if he didn't make lasting, faithful, mature disciples out of his listeners, that no one would. In fact, he assumed the opposite. He knew he was just one part of God's plan, and there was one coming after him. I don't imagine he loved getting jeers from those he offended, but his call was not to win everyone over, but to light the fire that would begin to expose his society to the truth about itself, and about God. Maybe God isn't as concerned with putting out fires as I am.

Prayer:
Jesus, as I reflect on your cousin John, I'm hearing that song from my childhood, "We Didn't Start the Fire". Your fire of justice and love, your Spirit, has burned in the hearts of prophets for millennia. Help me to better understand when fires need to be put out, and when they need to burn brighter and hotter. In your name I pray, Amen.