Luke buries the lead in chapter three. He names five governmental rulers and two leaders of the religious establishment. He outlines each of their respective areas of jurisdiction. Only after all this does he introduce John the Baptist. John is given no title of authority. His geographic location is stated without reference to political boundaries. Yet it is to him, not any of the recognized channels of power, that Luke declares the word of God has come.
In that instance, the lens refocuses. Luke points his readers away from the places they think wield power and influence so they can see the place God is at work.
Don’t look to the structures of established institutions. Look in the wild and unpredictable place most people fear to go. God is at work in the wilderness.
Don’t look at the palaces of political leaders or even the temple of the religiously observant. Move close to the heartbeat of creation. God is at work around the river.
God is at work in a community forming on the fringes: a community marked by its baptism and shaped by the humility of its repentance.
There are many reasons for this community to feel small. Many reasons for them to be afraid.
Like them, many of us do our work on the edges.
Some of us work with communities who have been pushed out to the edge. Some of us do work at the edge of our institution’s mission. One could argue serving the church in this moment is a kind of edge work.
Yet here, in the wilderness, on the edge, the word of God comes.
God is coming, John proclaims. And when God comes, all flesh — those on thrones and those in the wilderness and even those bodies with scales in the river — will see the salvation of God.
In moments when your work feels too small to make a dent in the scope of our world’s brokenness, may you remember the witness of John the Baptist and take heart knowing that the word of God so often comes at the edges.
