"The preacher is a voice that points not to itself but speaks Christ" Advent 4 2025
21. December 2025
Advent 4
John 1:19-28
And they asked him, saying, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” John answered them, saying, “I baptize with water, but there stands One among you whom you do not know. It is He who, coming after me, is preferred before me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to loose” (Jn 1:25–27).
This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.
They didn’t come out to the Jordan because they were hungry for mercy. They came because they smelled a problem. John had a crowd. John had momentum. John was preaching repentance and baptizing, and it looked like it might slip out of the authorities’ hands. So a delegation arrived from Jerusalem—priests and Levites—and the first question wasn’t, “How do I get right with God?” It was the controlling question: “Who are you?” (John 1:19)
That question among the ones Christ sends is never neutral. It’s how fallen man tries to size up God’s work: classify it, manage it, approve it, or crush it. We say it this way, “How dare you?” But John will not play. He does not sell himself. He doesn’t soften anything. “He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, ‘I am not the Christ.’” (John 1:20). Confession by negation.
And that is already good news for you. The world is always hunting for a messiah it can use. If not a political savior, then a medical savior. If not a celebrity savior, then a financial savior. And if none of those work, the old Adam volunteers: “I’ll take care of myself, thank you very much.” That is the original lie—Eden’s itch to be like God (Gen. 3:5). John kills that lie with a single sentence: “I am not the Christ.” (John 1:20) And since he won’t take Christ’s place, you don’t have to pretend you can fill the role either.
But they press harder, trying to force John into their categories: “What then? Are you Elijah?” (John 1:21). “Are you the Prophet?” (John 1:21). These aren’t random guesses. Malachi had promised an Elijah-like forerunner before the day of the Lord (Mal. 4:5–6). Moses had said, “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me… him you shall listen to.” (Deut. 18:15) The religious leaders know the prophecies. If they can place John in those roles, maybe they can control him? But they still don’t know the man standing before them.
And John refuses their crowns: “I am not” (John 1:21) and “No” (John 1:21). Not because the Old Testament doesn’t matter or its fulfillment—but because it matters so much that John will not let them attach it to the wrong person. The promises are not about John. The promises are completed in Jesus.
So they keep demanding something they use, maybe even against him? “Who are you, so that we may give an answer… What do you say about yourself?” (John 1:22) John answers with Scripture, not self-description: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’” (John 1:23; Isa. 40:3) Finally, a positive confession.
John is a voice. Not the Word. A voice. And that’s what faithful preaching always is: a mouth that points not to itself but to Christ. John is doing exactly what Isaiah foretold, as the Angel Gabriel proclaimed and Zechariah confessed. Right after that fierce, tender opening, God gives John this work: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” (Isa. 40:1) How does God comfort? Not by pretending sin is small or telling people they’re “fine.” He comforts by sending a messenger who tells the truth and by sending the Lord Himself to save.
And this is where Advent gets blunt. The world wants Christmas without repentance, a manger without a cross, sentiment without salvation. But John will not allow it. He is “the messenger” Malachi promised: “Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me.” (Mal. 3:1) How does he prepare the way? By leveling pride and exposing unbelief. By calling sinners what they are, so they can be forgiven.
The Pharisees, having heard the doctrine and still not satisfied, go after his practice: “Why then are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” (John 1:25). In other words: “Who authorized you to do this? Who gave you the right to attach God’s promise to water?” And so it always is with Christ’s messengers. First, the doctrine of Christ is rejected, and then the practice.
John’s answer is deliberately modest: “I baptize with water.” (John 1:26) He won’t pretend the power lies in his personality. But then he drops the line that should make every religious person nervous: “Among you stands one whom you do not know.” (John 1:26) Now we’re getting to the heart of the matter. John is a man under authority, and the identity of that authority is what matters—Jesus, the Christ.
Now we see the danger for Pharisees, old and new: Christ can be near, and you can miss Him. You can know the prophecies and still not know the Savior. You can be an expert in the Christian religion and a stranger to Jesus. You can stand in the middle of God’s gifts—and still treat them as background noise.
This is not just a first-century problem. It’s a church problem. It’s our problem. The easiest place to miss Jesus isn’t at the bar or the game; it’s in the pew, where familiarity turns holy things into ordinary things. When the sermon becomes “a talk.” When absolution becomes “a nice moment.” When the Supper becomes “what we do.” When Baptism becomes “my decision” instead of God’s rescue.
John refuses to let Christ be overlooked. “Even he who comes after me… the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” (John 1:27) That is not fake humility. That is realism. John stands in the presence of the Holy One and knows his place. If you think you “deserve” Jesus, you don’t yet know yourself. If you think God owes you a blessing because you’re decent, you’re not ready for Christmas—you’re ready for wages. But “the wages of sin is death.” (Rom. 6:23)
Here is the brutal honesty from John: you are not the Christ. Parents, you are not the Christ for your kids. You cannot bleed away their guilt. Spouses, you are not the Christ for each other. You cannot carry the weight of another person’s salvation. Pastors are not the Christ. Your death, metaphorically or literally, won’t save any congregation. Church councils are not the Christ. A “good church culture” is not the Christ. If you try to make any of those into a savior, you will either idolize them or hate them—because they cannot do what only Jesus can do.
And what can only Jesus do? Stand in the gap between the holy God and the guilty sinner. That’s the pattern the Scriptures keep showing you. When Israel rebelled and a plague broke out, Aaron ran with incense and “stood between the dead and the living, and the plague was stopped” (Num. 16:48). That wasn’t “nice symbolism.” That was God preaching Christ ahead of time: a mediator stepping into the breach.
When Israel crossed the Jordan into the promised land, the priests carried the ark into the river, and “the waters… were cut off… and the people passed over opposite Jericho.” (Josh. 3:16) Another preached sermon: God makes a way through death-waters into promise. And the Fourth Sunday of Advent has you staring at a new “crossing place”—the Jordan again—because the true crossing is here: from sin to forgiveness, from death to life, from wrath to peace, not by your effort but by God’s promise.
That’s why the New Testament speaks so plainly about Baptism: “Baptism… now saves you.” (1 Pet. 3:21) Not because water is magical, but because Christ is faithful. Baptism saves because it joins you to the Savior who saves. “All of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death.” (Rom. 6:3) And if you’re joined to His death, you’re not left there: “If we have been united with him… we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Rom. 6:5) That’s Jesus standing in the breach for you.
When John says, “Among you stands one whom you do not know” (John 1:26), he is not teasing. He is warning you away from a fake Christmas and inviting you into a real one. A fake Christmas is you trying to manufacture peace through busyness and tradition while refusing repentance. A real Christmas is this: the Christ you don’t deserve is coming anyway, and He comes to forgive real sins, not to reward pretend righteousness.
And He is the only one who can. “There is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” (1 Tim. 2:5) “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) “And there is salvation in no one else.” (Acts 4:12) If you try to come to God through your own goodness, you are not being humble—you are rejecting the Mediator.
So repent. Not in a gloomy religious mood, but in the honest surrender of your excuses. Stop calling sin “just stress.” Stop dressing up greed as “providing.” Stop baptizing lust as “needs.” “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves.” (1 John 1:8) Let John’s voice do its work. Let it clear the road. Let it strip the fake crowns from your head. John isn’t the Christ, and neither are you and I.
And then hear the comfort stronger than your sin: the Lord is coming to end the war, not to negotiate with your pride. “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them.” (2 Cor. 5:19) That is why He comes lowly—conceived, carried, born, wrapped, laid down. That is why He comes under the Law (Gal. 4:4–5). That is why He goes to the cross: “He was wounded for our transgressions… and with his stripes we are healed.” (Isa. 53:5)
And yes, receive Christ where He actually gives Himself—not where your imagination prefers. He gives Himself through His Word and through His promise attached to ordinary means. That’s not beneath Him. That’s His way. “Baptism… now saves you.” (1 Peter 3:21) “This is my body… This is my blood… for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matthew 26:26–28)
Advent has been stripping away your false saviors so you can recognize the real Savior when He stands among you. You are not the Christ. Thanks be to God. The Christ is coming. And the Christ who comes is the One who stands in the middle—between the dead and the living, between wrath and sinners, between heaven and your grave—to halt the plague of sin and bring you through the waters into the promise.
So don’t miss Him. Don’t let Him be “among you” and unknown. Hear His voice. Make straight the way. And welcome the Lord who comes to save you.
This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.
Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
St. John Ev. Lutheran Church & School - Sherman Center
Random Lake, Wisconsin