4. The Preaching of John the Forerunner in the Wilderness. The Baptism of Jesus Christ. His Withdrawal Into the Wilderness and Temptation by the Devil

While in distant Nazareth the divine-human maturity of the Savior was drawing to its completion, in the environs of Jerusalem in equal seclusion there had already ripened that “angel” who, according to the prophecy of Malachi, was to prepare the way for Him. The son of the righteous Zechariah and Elizabeth, John, having been raised under the wholesome influence of his devout parents, showed from childhood a disposition to solitude and asceticism, and upon reaching manhood chose the surrounding wilderness as his favorite dwelling place. This spirit of monasticism found encouragement also in the very condition of the Jewish people at that time. It was in truth a hard time for the chosen people. Imperious Rome, which had for a time tolerated Judea’s shadow-independence under its own kings, now laid upon it at last the iron hand of its autocracy, and deposing Herod’s son Archelaus, handed Judea over to the rule of a purely Roman administrator—the so-called procurator—who was in turn subordinate to another higher official, the prefect of Syria. Along with the establishment of Roman dominion, Roman customs began to be introduced which, as pagan, seemed to the Jews an intolerable trampling of all the traditions most dear to them. A strong Roman detachment finally occupied the tower of Antonia adjoining the Temple, and the menacing sight of these pagans clouded the spiritual peace of all who visited the Temple. Roman military detachments stationed in individual cities burdened the people with billeting and various exactions; taxes increased, and the Roman system of collecting them through tax-gatherers or publicans contributed to the formation among the people of an entire class of shameless extortioners who enriched themselves at the expense of the people’s misery, aroused irritation and opposition; and in various places bands of insurgents were already appearing who, refusing to pay taxes to Caesar, elevated this refusal to the level of a sacred duty for every true Israelite, and by rising against the Romans introduced yet greater unrest and disturbance among the peaceful population of the country. It is no wonder that in such a hard condition of the people there appeared among them a tendency to flee into the wilderness, there to breathe freely and to ease their wearied souls in solitary converse with God and in ardent entreaty for the swiftest possible coming of the Deliverer.

And so amid this general anguish, from one of the most desolate wildernesses, there rang out the voice of a new great prophet, whose fame spread rapidly throughout the entire country. This was in the fifteenth year of the reign of the second Roman emperor Tiberius, during the governorship of Judea by the procurator Pontius Pilate. Since the time of Malachi, prophecy had completely ceased among the chosen people, who for whole centuries had been compelled to draw their religious and moral strength exclusively from the Law and from tradition. The people had grown so accustomed to this state that they no longer even expected the appearance of new prophets, but only expected the second coming of Elijah as the immediate forerunner of the Messiah. And now this Elijah seemed to have appeared in the person of John. A strict Nazirite, John appeared in the wilderness not only in the spirit and power of Elijah, but resembled him also in his entire outward appearance and way of life. Like his great prototype, he wore a rough mantle of camel’s hair, girded with a leather belt, and subsisted on the most meager gifts of the wilderness—wild honey found here and there in inaccessible clefts of the rocks, and locusts, that is, sun-dried grasshoppers (still used as food by Bedouins to this day, especially in hungry years). The appearance of such a prophet was bound to attract universal attention, all the more so since his preaching addressed the most vital question—the time of the coming of the Messiah. “Repent,” John preached, “for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matt. 3:2). And to this summons there began to gather to John from all sides all who were weary and burdened, wishing to find in the preaching of the newly appeared prophet relief for their conscience from the burden of sins and doubts that lay upon it. The movement was so universal that to John came even haughty Pharisees and free-thinking Sadducees, unruly soldiers and extortionate publicans, and all of them with contrition listened to the admonitions and stern rebukes of the austere prophet. The place of his preaching was the uninhabited expanse of wilderness that stretches southward from Jericho and the fords of the Jordan to the shores of the Dead Sea. In the rocks overhanging the narrow pass leading from Jerusalem to Jericho, robbers lurked; in the reeds fringing the waters of the Jordan, wild animals and crocodiles still roamed; but none of this deterred the people who came in crowds to hear the unheard-of prophet. And the word of this prophet thundered like a hammer, breaking the most flinty heart; it burned like flame, penetrating the most hidden thoughts. With truly prophetic sharpness and directness he denounced the tax collectors for their extortions, the soldiers for their violence, for dishonesty and discontent, the wealthy Sadducees and aristocratic Pharisees for the heartlessness and falsity that had made them a brood of vipers. To all the people he addressed a warning that they were deeply mistaken in placing all their hope of salvation in their descent from Abraham, as though this exempted them from any further obligation to make special efforts to attain salvation. God, who created Adam from the earth, can raise up new children of Abraham even from stones. Therefore, in order to be true sons of Abraham worthy of inheriting the promises given to him, they must sincerely repent and “bear fruit worthy of repentance” (Matt. 3:8). And this was especially necessary now, when everything foretold that the fullness of time was drawing near. The hour of the coming of the long-awaited Messiah had struck. This preaching shook the hearts of the listeners, who therefore gladly accepted the rite of baptism introduced by John as the visible sign of interior repentance. This rite was unknown to the Old Testament and constituted the visible vestibule of the New Covenant. True, the Law of Moses prescribed various washings and purifications, and water in antiquity served as a widely known symbol of cleansing power; but John gave baptism a deeper meaning—that of a symbol of interior cleansing and renewal of the entire moral being—and in this very sense this baptism of repentance was later transformed into the baptism of salvation. The people, struck by all this, asked who this great prophet and preacher was: was he Elijah, or perhaps even the Christ? Even the Sanhedrin, struck by the report of John’s preaching and actions, sent to him a special delegation with precisely this question. But John replied that he was neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor a prophet, but simply “the voice of one crying in the wilderness” (John 1:23), a simple forerunner and herald of the One whose sandal strap he was not worthy to loose, who would baptize not with water but with the Holy Spirit and fire and who already held His winnowing fan in His hand to clear His threshing floor, to gather the wheat into the barn and to burn the chaff—that is, all who had not repented before His coming—with unquenchable fire.

Even inhabitants of distant Galilee came to hear John’s preaching and to receive baptism of repentance from him, and among them appeared Jesus, who was at that time “about thirty years” (Luke 3:23) of age, in the full bloom of His sinless manhood. John was His kinsman, but the circumstances of life had completely separated them from each other. John spent his childhood in the home of his devout father, a priest who lived in one of the priestly cities (Juttah) in the southern reaches of the tribe of Judah, near Hebron; Jesus lived in complete isolation, in the carpenter’s workshop of His putative father, in Galilee. When He first came to the banks of the Jordan, John the Forerunner, by his own account, “did not know Him” (John 1:33); but His very outward appearance struck and captivated John’s soul. For others he was an unbending prophet: he boldly rebuked kings, sternly exposed Pharisees; but in the presence of this mysterious Galilean, an incomprehensible awe came upon the stern prophet of the wilderness. When Jesus asked John to baptize Him, the great prophet was abashed before such boundless humility on the part of the one in whom he at once recognized the awaited Messiah, and said to Him with reverence: “I need to be baptized by You, and are You coming to me?” (Matt. 3:14). And to this expression of humility and reverence on the part of John there followed the answer of Jesus: “Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness” (Matt. 3:15). Baptism by John was not in itself a sacrament, but only a preparatory symbol of spiritual rebirth, and Jesus, as the Author of the New Covenant, needed to pass through this preparatory stage of His public ministry as well, so as at once to mark out the path He would follow in His service. As a sinless Man He had no need of any cleansing, as other men had; and therefore this baptism signified for Him only the “fulfillment of righteousness,” as indicated by the will of the Father who had sent Him. After this explanation John baptized Him, and when Jesus came up out of the water, “behold, the heavens were opened to Him, and John saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting upon Him. And suddenly a voice came from heaven, saying: This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:16–17). Thus in the baptism of Jesus the participation of the whole Holy Trinity was solemnly manifested—in whose name of three Persons Christian baptism is performed as a sacrament.

Having baptized Jesus and thus fulfilled the chief purpose of his ministry, John continued to preach repentance after this; while Jesus, His human spirit filled with thoughts and feelings about the ministry that lay before Him, sought seclusion for a time in order to be alone with God and to prepare Himself for the great work. From the waters of the Jordan He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where He remained for forty days. There He was tempted by the devil. Just as in the garden of Eden the devil had tempted the innocent, newly created and sinless man and had ruined him, so the ancient hater of mankind could not endure the presence of a sinless man in the wilderness now, and again attempted to ruin Him. But if in the garden of Eden that malicious cunning had triumphed, now it was to suffer final defeat and shame: Christ conquered the devil and thereby gave us an invincible weapon against all his wiles.

The crafty malice of the ancient hater of mankind devised three forms of temptation that particularly assail the weak sides of human nature—namely, the gratification of the flesh, self-conceit, and the lust for power—and with these three temptations the devil approached Christ.

Like His Old Testament prototypes Moses and Elijah, who also withdrew for a time into the wilderness and underwent there a forty-day fast, Jesus Christ “ate nothing during those days, and afterward, when they had ended, He was hungry” (Luke 4:2). This moment of human weakness the tempter seized upon. Approaching the sinless God-Man, the tempter addressed Him with crafty speech: “If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread” (Matt. 4:3). The pangs of hunger are felt all the more sharply when they are sustained by the added torment of a vivid imagination; and right before the eyes of Jesus lay stones wonderfully resembling loaves of bread, which according to tradition were the very loaves of the inhabitants of the Sodomite pentapolis turned to stone, having once brought upon themselves the terrible wrath of God. By pointing to “these stones,” the devil reckoned to assail the sensual weakness of Jesus as successfully as he had once assailed it in the first humans in paradise. At the same time this temptation was covered with many cunningly devious turns of thought. Israel too had suffered much from hunger in the wilderness, and there in its extreme need God had fed it with manna which was, as it were, angelic bread from heaven. Why then should not the Son of God provide Himself with food in the wilderness? He can do this if only He wills it, and why does He delay? If an angel showed a spring to thirsting Hagar, if an angel showed food to the starving Elijah, why should He wait even for the service of angels when such service is unnecessary, and when, should He but will it, angels would gladly minister to Him? But the reply that followed at once shattered the crafty logic of the tempter. Drawing upon that same lesson which flowed from the most glorious utterances of the Old Testament, the Savior answered: “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’” (Matt. 4:4). By this answer a decisive blow was dealt to the dominion of the flesh in man, and it was shown that man is by no means exclusively a carnal being, but on the contrary a being who can always triumph over the weaknesses of the flesh. Whoever thinks that we live by bread alone makes concern for bread the chief aim of life, spends all his strength in obtaining it, and becomes wretched and rebellious when even temporarily deprived of it; not seeking any other more elevated nourishment, he will inevitably languish with hunger even in the midst of plenty. But whoever recognizes that man does not live by bread alone will not sacrifice for it what makes life most precious and sacred; having fulfilled his duty, he will trust God with regard to all that is needed for the body, will seek with greater diligence and care the bread of heaven and that living water of which whoever drinks shall never thirst again.

Such an answer showed the tempter with whom he had to deal; and so, with astonishing dexterity adapting himself to the spirit of mind that Christ had revealed, he now attempted to tempt Him on precisely this ground of boundless trust in God. “Then the devil took Him up into the holy city and set Him on the pinnacle of the Temple” (Matt. 4:5). In His lower, bodily nature Christ found Himself for a time as though entirely in the power of the devil, who disposed of His body with such arbitrary license—but all the more did the tempter suffer defeat at the hands of Christ’s spirit. It is not known which pinnacle of the Temple is meant: perhaps the roof of the Royal Portico on the southern side of the Temple, which fell precipitously into the deep valley of Kidron from such a fearful height that, according to Josephus, anyone who dared to look down was seized with dizziness from the yawning abyss; or perhaps the roof of Solomon’s Porch, from which, according to tradition, Saint James the brother of the Lord was thrown down to the door below. Either was equally suitable for the tempter’s purpose—to arouse in Jesus the pride of self-conceit. If He was truly the Son of God, why should He not throw Himself from this dizzy height, so as to prove before the whole city at once His divine dignity and thereby further His purpose? As for His personal safety, as the Son of God He could fully count on the help of angels, for it is written: “He shall give His angels charge over You, and in their hands they shall bear You up, lest You dash Your foot against a stone” (Matt. 4:6; Ps. 90:11–12). Would all this not be an excellent proof of boundless trust in God and a fulfillment of prophecy? — The temptation was contrived subtly and profoundly; in support of it the devil even cited Holy Scripture. But this temptation proved powerless before the sinless man. To all the twists of crafty flattery Christ calmly replied: “It is written again, ‘You shall not tempt the Lord your God’” (Matt. 4:7).

Having failed in the temptation of bodily weakness and spiritual pride, the devil made one last desperate attempt—to seduce Jesus with the phantom of unlimited sovereignty over all the kingdoms of the earth. Taking Him up to a high mountain, the devil unrolled before the eyes of Jesus an enchanting vision of all the kingdoms of the world in all their glory, and said to Him: “All these things I will give You if You will fall down and worship me” (Matt. 4:9). The devil knew that for Christ as the Savior of the world there lay ahead a terrible path of humiliation and suffering at which His human heart could not but tremble. Meanwhile all this could be avoided by Him, and He could become precisely that dread Messiah-conqueror and ruler of all the world that the majority of the Jewish people expected to see. Why should He not appear precisely in this last form—and all this would be His, if only He would bow down to the tempter? But in this temptation the audacity of Satan exceeded all bounds, and Christ answered him victoriously: “Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve’” (Matt. 4:10).

Thus the progenitor of New Testament humanity dealt the first defeat to the ancient hater of mankind, showing him that the time of his kingdom had passed and the Kingdom of God’s grace was coming upon the earth. Although the devil would make further attempts to tempt Christ afterward, for the time being he was compelled to leave Him; “and behold, angels came and ministered to Him” (Matt. 4:11).