He felt his presence before he saw him coming; it almost distracted him from what he was doing. Baptizing so many people can become a repetitive act, one could almost do it without thinking, which is precisely the moment you run into trouble. You forget the name just told you, or forget the words you must say. But he knew he was coming.

For many years now, since they were both about twelve, John could feel the presence of his slightly younger second cousin moments before seeing him in person, kind of a sixth sense thing. Only John did not expect him to come here.

Theirs was an interesting relationship. Not only were they family, they were also friends. Good friends. Friends whose mutual interests included something other young men their age paid less attention to than they did. John and his cousin shared a fascination with God. They would discuss God for hours on end, sometimes late into the night -- arguing, debating, refuting one another. John was always the louder of the two; but his cousin was far more perceptive than John could ever hope to be - this he knew in his heart. John knew that his cousin would never try to win any of these arguments. Never try to gain the upper hand, never try to overpower or shout down. In fact, he almost always ended his line of reasoning with a question.

All of his life, for as long as he had known him, John's second cousin tried to get him to think through his head formulated arguments and get to the heart of the matter. Usually he left John with nothing to say, no clever rejoinder ever seemed appropriate. Nearly always, either with a question or some soft spoken comment meant to leave his listeners thinking, John's favorite, beloved cousin would have the last word.

Privately, John had thought for some time that in listening to Jesus, in some way (and he couldn't explain it), he felt was listening to what God really thought. People would have thought him crazy for believing that, but somehow he knew it, deep within, and John hadn't told anyone this.

Lately, in his own preaching, he had begun to allude to One who would follow him, One that would actually be greater than himself. Only John wasn't completely sure his cousin was the One. Not yet, anyway. But on this day, when he finally saw him, when John looked up and saw his cousin standing there, next in line to be baptized, his doubts vanished and his fears were confirmed.

"This isn't right," he said to him, "I need baptizing by you; and you come to me?" Their eyes locked for a moment. Jesus saw the recognition and the pain in the eyes of his cousin, the Baptizer.

And in his soft, confident voice, he said to him, "John, do it this time; it is the right thing to do. It fulfills what God asks of both of us." Only then did John baptize his cousin, Jesus of Nazareth; and that was probably one of the last of a handful of times he ever saw him.

A few years later, sitting in Herod's jail, his future uncertain, one of John's last remaining followers asked him about that day when he baptized Jesus. "If he was God's chosen one, why then did he need baptism at all? You preached a baptism of repentance, Master; would the Messiah need reconciliation with God? Your hesitancy to baptize seemed appropriate."

John smiled as he pondered his disciple's question from the other side of his cell door. "Yes, it did, didn't it? I wondered about that for along time, my hesitancy. And then one day, I saw him again, at a family burial in Nazareth.

"He had been out teaching for a little over a year; when we finally got the chance to talk late one night, like we did on so many nights years before, right out of the blue, he talked to me about it. Squatting all the way down, and looking at the small fire in front of us, he spoke gently. 'You almost didn't go through with it, did you?'

"I knew what he meant, what he was talking about. But he went on, still staring at the fire. 'That's all right; I almost didn't either. Those were very confusing times for me; so many thoughts swirling in my head. I didn't know what to think, what to do. So I decided to come see you. You always had a way of helping me sort out my thoughts.

" 'I watched you from a distance, John - watched all these people come to you, but not because of you. They came because of God. In your baptism, they found a peace and clarity with God that they had never experienced before. A peace I so desperately wanted and a clarity I needed then. I felt pulled in so many different directions.

" 'As I watched you, a thought came to me, but not of my own thinking. It was like a voice that said, "Go to him. Go be baptized. Then you will see what you wish to know."'

"Then," John continued, "he turned and looked right at me; I can still see his face in the light of the fire, his eyes now staring into mine.

" 'John,' he said, 'when I rose from the water, I saw an incredible sight-it looked like the heavens opening up, and I saw some kind of ghostly spirit, unformed, coming down upon me, as if a dove had lighted on my outstretched hand. And I heard this voice again, and it said, "This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased." And as quickly as it happened, it all ended. I remember it now as clearly as if it happened yesterday.' Then he looked back at the fire. 'What do you make of it?' I asked him.

"After a long silence, he replied, 'Whether we know it or recognize it or not, I believe baptism changes our lives. In baptism,' he said, 'all of us should see ourselves as beloved sons and daughters of the Father' (which is what He is calling God these days, "Father") 'only most of us don't believe it. We certainly struggle to act like the children of a loving Father. But that does not change our beloved status in God's eyes, John; it does not change that supreme love of the Father for his children.

" 'Baptism was essential for me to open my eyes and see God as my Father. All I'm trying to do is open other people's eyes to see the same, that God is their Father, too. When they begin recognize that truth, then they will begin love one another like the brothers and sisters they truly are.'"

From the other side of the cell door, the disciple asked his teacher, "Do you think it's true, Master, that God is this man's father, and father to us all?"

John smiled a knowing smile. "My child, if you knew my cousin the way that I know my cousin, then you would know that his word is truth unlike any other I have ever heard anyone say. And you would not hesitate to believe in his Father, the father of us all, who opens the eyes of the blind and strengthens the weak and faint-hearted, who loves us all and who heals us all. And if Jesus desires to open the eyes of the world to this truth, that we are all God's children, then I for one believe that he will do just that.

"In fact," said John the Baptist, "I'd bet my very life on it."

The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH
301 Piney Mountain Road
Greenville, SC 29609-3035
(864) 244-6358
stjamesrector@mindspring.com

Copyright © 2002 Timothy M. Dombek All Rights Reserved.