An American farmer was bragging about the size of his property to another farmer. “Back home,” he said, “I can get into my car, drive all day, and by evening I would still not have reached the furthest point of my ranch.” The other farmer replied, “You know, once I had a car like that.”
Exaggeration as a literary device can be very effective in reinforcing messages, like “I’ve told you a million times not to exaggerate!” But it’s a finely tuned tool that can become cringeworthy when misused or abused, especially when applied to one’s own exaggerated achievements. It seems this has particularly plagued the world of politics in recent years. It’s especially jarring when the reality doesn’t match the bombastic narrative or is its complete opposite. In the Christian tradition that deeply influences our culture, where humility and modesty are the default mindset, blowing one’s own trumpet naturally makes us cringe. But it hasn’t always been like that. Ancient monuments stand as silent testaments to the overblown egos and exaggerated accomplishments of emperors, kings, and powerful warlords. Inscriptions and depictions of their successes adorned walls and columns in temples or were inscribed on special raised upright stones called stele. Humility and modesty were an accidental (or providential) invention of a nation that had been defeated and conquered by its powerful neighbours: the Israelites. It helped them recover, re-establish themselves as a nation, survive, and flourish in an often politically hostile environment. This attitude was inherited by the Christian community and, over time, it “conquered” the world. But the temptations to brag and exaggerate still exist because they appeal to everyone’s deeply ingrained need for recognition and appreciation.
“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” John the Baptist’s question, conveyed to Jesus by John’s disciples, referred to the Messiah, a powerful figure awaited and longed for by many Israelites at the time. There were a number of interpretations of who he would be and how he would affect Jewish society at the time. According to the gospels, John the Baptist was the Messiah’s precursor, announcing his immediate arrival and quite specific actions, as we heard last Sunday: “He will come ready to clean the grain. He will separate the good grain from the straw, and he will put the good part into his barn. Then he will burn the useless part with a fire that cannot be stopped.” In other words, the Messiah would be quite a stern and fiery ruler. So, when some time later, “John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ (Greek for the messiah),” he must have been baffled because Jesus had not been acting in line with John’s predictions. In fact, there’s a strong indication that John wasn’t just “baffled”. When Jesus responded to John’s messengers, he finished with the line: “blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” The exact Greek word was “skandaliste”, scandalised. It’s not unreasonable to think that John had been appalled by Jesus’ conduct: “the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.”
That would explain the second part of today’s gospel reading, where Jesus painted a positive picture of John as a metaphorical incarnation of another powerful figure from the Jewish past: the prophet Elijah, expected by many to return ahead of the arrival of the Messiah. Jesus recalled the old prophecy and pointed to John as its fulfilment. In this way, John’s role was elevated by Jesus, something that John himself, in his humility, had always rejected: “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness. […] He who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” (John 1:23.27) John’s humility was matched by that of Jesus, who replied to John’s question by listing positive changes without putting his name to them: “the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.” In other words, like John, Jesus didn’t place himself as the centre of attention but rather those who benefited from his actions. In the course of his ministry, Jesus made great efforts to instil the same attitude in his disciples. In fact, he has continued to do so over the centuries. We are yet another generation of his disciples who are learning how to make our lives benefit those around us: “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, ‘Be strong; fear not!’” Maybe, just maybe, they will blow trumpets for us in due course. Even if they don’t, you will have lived your life with a purpose, and that will be your greatest achievement.
