The best teachers are those who know the most about their students. If a student is capable but lazy, the good teacher understands that it might be necessary to exert some pressure on the student to help him realize his full potential. A complacent student needs a wake-up call. And this might necessitate some direct, blunt—even harsh—words from the teacher, not harsh words said in anger, but honest words said in love.
Alternatively, there is the more sensitive and diligent student. This student is overscrupulous, always completing the work set before her, always attending class, never sleeping during lectures. This student can still benefit from some direction, but she is more prone to feeling ashamed or judged by overly critical words. A thoughtful teacher will adjust her words to reflect that student’s personality. Such is the mark of an excellent teacher.
St. Gregory the Great, living in the 6th century, applied this wisdom to the pastor of a congregation. A wise priest, he suggested, would be gentle with those who are gentle in spirit, urging them towards holiness through encouragement and mild exhortation. But for a recalcitrant, spiritually lazy parishioner, the same priest would be more direct and blunter. A good priest and pastor, St. Gregory believed, would be able to navigate many personalities and many spiritual dispositions. In our own age, which is easily offended by direct speech, it might be helpful to learn to hear messages in more ways than one.
I think that John the Baptist, with all his ruggedness and wild mannerisms understands the need to tailor the message of good news to different groups of people. Some of the people who come to him in the wilderness understand his message of repentance. On the surface, it’s not a condemnatory or offensive message. Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near. That’s actually remarkably good news. Can you imagine anything better? Those whose lives are changed by the invitation to repentance come to John at the Jordan River, and he baptizes them.
But then, John’s personality shifts on a dime. When he sees the Pharisees and the Sadducees coming to him, venom pours out of his mouth. You can almost see his pulsating neck veins and red face. You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? This group is full of the ultra-religious who like their religion neat and tidy. We, too, know this type, which transcends all religions. They are the inordinately dutiful who are good at adhering to the letter of the law but neglecting the spirit of it. They are the contemporary Christians who are complacent in their favored status and who judge non-conformers harshly.
One would suspect that such folks are the most adequate candidates for John’s baptism. But John smells a rat. Like a wise pastor, he knows that the Pharisees and Sadducees do not understand the heart of his baptism. His baptism is not based on privileged right of spiritual lineage or on being dutiful. His baptism is not an external rite that has no bearing our own inner lives. His baptism is a baptism for the repentance of sins. His baptism necessitates an about-face, a change of direction, a change of heart. To undergo John’s baptism, one must feel compunction and be cut to the heart.
John’s harsher words are directed to the spiritually complacent with a perfunctory view of salvation. Some of the most rigorously practiced religion can be the most spiritually lazy, practiced by those who hear what they want to hear but who need a wake-up call. And John gives it to them. Terrifying images of judgment spew forth from his lips, replete with sharp objects and fire. The last word we hear from his lips today is about an unquenchable fire.
So, which side of John do we need to hear today? We are not alike in this room. I know for a fact that we all bring different histories to this church. Some of us were brought up on a steady spiritual diet of fire and brimstone language. It doesn’t take us long to begin to feel on our skin the lick of flames from an eternal hell. It doesn’t take us long to feel terror at being chosen or being damned. It’s very difficult to hear John’s words and not feel repulsed, or at the very least, worried all over again, with unpleasant memories dredged up from Sunday School classrooms of the past.
But there are also some of us who grew up with no talk of sin. We heard a lot about God’s love—and thanks be to God for that, but it was considered unpopular, even uncouth, to mention sin or judgment. We have seen the fruits of that reticence in vapid proclamations from pulpits, empty pews, and careless lives. We know what it’s like when the Gospel message loses its meaty substance. And because of this spiritual coddling, we have become a bit spiritually lazy, picking and choosing what we want and rejecting what we don’t want from the buffet in front of us.
So, which side of John do we need to hear today? Truth be told, our dispositions might vary from day to day. On one day, we might be sensitive, fragile, and run the risk of being spiritually harmed if we listen too closely to John’s words to the Pharisees and Sadducees. But on another, when we have gotten lazy about our prayer and commitments to the Church, we would benefit from John’s wake-up call. At times, only the harshest of proclamations seems to get our attention. So, which is it that you need today? Fierce John or gentle John?
Only you can decide. But there is one thing that is clear beneath all John’s words, whether fierce or gentle. And that is nothing less than the heart of the Gospel. If John cared nothing for the Gospel, his words might have been much milder in tone to the Pharisees and Sadducees. But John cares, and we should care, too.
John’s cry in the wilderness was true in those ancient days, and it’s still true today. The kingdom of heaven has drawn near. We are not so much moving towards it as it is moving towards us. It’s nearer than we can imagine. As St. Augustine of Hippo said, God is closer to us than we are to ourselves.
Repentance convicts us when we are going in the wrong direction. We are bowing to our golden calves on our many hill altars, and we simply cannot see that the one, true, living God has drawn near to us. Christ is alive. He’s alive in you, and he’s alive in me. And because we are so often unaware of this reality or are spiritually lazy, someone must wake us up. On some days, it might be fierce John. On others, it’s simply a vivid reminder that when we are drawn into despair, the God who created us, sustains us, and has redeemed us is nearer to us than we are too ourselves. Repent! The kingdom of God has drawn near. Wake up! Jesus is alive within you.
Perhaps those who are complacent with their Christian stature need to hear John’s words in their brutal honesty, to prevent them from scaring other people into shame and exempting themselves from God’s judgment. And perhaps those of us who are traumatized by manipulative religion need to understand that not talking about sin and judgment isn’t the answer either, nor is avoiding difficult speech. No matter what our experience is, the kingdom of God has drawn near. God is already among us. God has already chosen us to bear fruit for the kingdom of God.
The ax is lying at the root of the tree, but lest we forget, remember that the tree has not yet been cut down. The chaff and the wheat are being separated as we speak, but the chaff has not yet been burned up. God’s fire is a purifying fire. It is unquenchable in its desire to refine us and try us as silver is tried, not for us to suffer and live in shame, but for us to live in God.
What words of John do you need to hear today? Only you will know. But whatever message you take away, know this: The kingdom of heaven has drawn near. God is closer to you than you can comprehend. And Jesus’s Gospel has come, is coming, and will come to bring good news to the poor, relief to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. However, you choose to hear it, above all, hear it well. For no matter how the message is delivered, this Gospel is something we need to hear.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Second Sunday of Advent
December 7, 2025