The desert was oppressively hot! The breezeless mid-day air itself was so hot that to John it seemed like the air of a potter's kiln against his skin. This stretch through the mountains was completely exposed to the sun, and John could feel the heat beating on him through his turban and on his back as he walked on toward the overhanging stone outcropping that would provide some shaded relief. He was careful to not kick the burning sand onto his sandals.
John did not usually travel the desert at mid-day, but today he was restless, unhappy and discontent. He had lived in the desert for fifteen years, sometimes staying with people in the various small settlements and sometimes staying alone. He had come to the desert to be close to God, for God seemed to prefer the starkness of the wasteland to the bustle of the more inhabited agricultural lands. How could anyone hear God with all the noise and complications of city life? And yet it seemed that John could no longer hear God even in the desert. Perhaps his ears had become dull, or perhaps God was silent. Perhaps God was done with speaking to him forever.
It was just as well that John did not live in the cities. His appearance was shocking to those who met him for the first time -- even frightening, and most people avoided him. He was a nazirite, a person who had taken certain vows before God, and one of those vows was to not cut his hair. John's thick, black hair and beard had never been cut in his whole life, so that they grew almost to his waist. His face was completely hidden in the black growth except for a space for his eyes to peer through, and those eyes were dark and penetrating. When John looked at someone, they often felt a strong sense of prying judgement against them. It was very discomfiting. He was very, very thin. Thin to the point that his ribs were clearly visible whenever one could see his chest through the hair, and his legs protruded like sticks from his body.
God had never actually spoken to John in words as he did to the Fathers, but spoke to him in the stirring of his own thoughts. God would send ideas and would seize John with powerful convictions, and he would give John glimpses of his holy truth, but the details of God's messages to him were often unclear. It was in this way John knew that God was gravely displeased with his people and would send his anointed one to judge the wicked and set things right. But for many months God had not stirred him at all. He felt empty; he felt alone, and he was concerned God had abandoned him.
So he had left the settlement at En-gedi to seek God in the loneliness of the barren desert. For over six weeks he had been alone. He had seen no human being except twice at a great distance he had seen someone walking along the road beside the mountains. John was alone without man or God in the desert.
The relief from the direct sun was immediate as soon as John stepped under the overhang, though the hot air was still almost tangible. John squatted and opened the neck of his water skin. He slowly sipped at the warm liquid. A buzzing caught his ear, and he turned to the back wall of the rock to see that bees had built a hive in the protected area. Closer inspection revealed they had produced a bit of honey in a cavity of the stone wall. John considered eating the honey. He had brought provisions with him from En-gedi, but they had run out after a few days and he had not replaced them. After the food was gone, he had taken in nothing other than water. He reached to grab the sweet substance, but changed his mind. His hunger was to hear God. If God decided remain silent, perhaps it was just as well that he starve in the desert.
He resumed his squatting position at the front of the overhang where he could look out over the rocky landscape. He occasionally sipped from his water skin as he waited for evening to come so he could resume his journey. He thought about using his time to pray to God, but he had already prayed and prayed to no avail, and he did not feel like praying further. Perhaps he would never pray again. He had sought God and made himself available to God, and where was God? God could forget him if he wanted to. John could just sit here and sip his water until it ran out. Never eat, never pray, never even speak. Just sip his water until it was gone and then sit quietly under the overhanging rock until he died. What did God care?
Was that a movement? Perhaps a wild goat? John was distracted from his thoughts. He continued looking where he thought he saw motion. Yes! there it was again. But what was it? Soon John could see that something indeed was moving up the slope and at a steady pace. It did not move like a goat. There! It was a man! And he was coming in John's general direction. His walking was peculiar. He did not climb a few paces and pause or pick his way around the contours, but progressed in steady unbroken steps up the mountainside. He was not running, but he was walking more briskly up the slope than seemed possible. And he was still coming toward John's overhang.
The man was now close enough to see. He was tall and somewhat muscular. He had golden hair that curled down almost to his shoulders. His golden beard was full, but only a few inches long at the chin. He was wearing a white garment that came down to just above his knees. And he was heading straight for John's spot. John picked up a big rock and stood up. The man was now only a few yards away and had still not broken his pace. John could now see his clear, blue eyes. He gripped the rock in his right hand, but the man stopped a few feet away from him.
"Greetings John, prophet of God," said the golden-haired man. His voice was clear like a bell. John's voice was deep and resounding in contrast.
"I am no prophet," John replied still gripping the rock. "How do you know my name?"
"I am Belfaire, the messenger of the Lord," replied the man.
"I do not know of a Belfaire," responded John suspiciously.
"Men sometimes call me Gabriel," he replied. "The Lord has sent me to tell you the time is come."
"What time?"
"The Kingdom of God is at hand, and the anointed one is soon to be revealed," said the messenger.
John's pulse quickened. "When?" asked John. "Today?"
"Not today," replied Belfaire. "Someone must first prepare the way for him."
John recalled the words of the prophet, 'In the wilderness, prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.' "I know those who are preparing the way," said John. "The Covenanters of The Community. I have spent much time with them, but have never entered the covenant. I will go there and begin at once if it is not too late."
"The Lord has not chosen The Community," said Belfaire. "He has chosen one man to speak to Israel and prepare the way for the Kingdom. And you are that man. You will preach to multitudes and introduce the anointed one to Israel"
The rock fell from John's grasp. "I cannot!" he protested. "I am a rough and solitary man, and do not interact well with people, especially the people of the cities!"
"The Lord will be with you, John. You will go to the house of Israel and tell them the Kingdom is near, and you will bring them into the Kingdom through repentance and the washing away of their sins."
"They must purify themselves with water as the Covenanters do?" asked John.
"This is not a ritual purification," said Belfaire. "Those entering the Kingdom will submit to be cleansed by the Lord's messenger for the washing away of sin. This purification will be the sign that they are waiting for the anointed one, and you will identify to them the anointed one when he comes."
"How will I know him?" asked John.
As Belfaire spoke, he seemed no longer to be speaking for God, but to be the voice of God himself. "You will see the visible glow of the presence of the Lord come upon many. When you see my presence come upon one and remain, he is the anointed one."
The encounter was too much for John to absorb, "Lord, how can I know that these things are true? Can you give me a sign?"
"You are so like your father," he replied. "When he asked for a sign, I struck him speechless. How can you preach to the House of Israel if you are speechless?"
John remembered the story of his father. It had been kept a carefully guarded family secret, and he had almost forgotten it. "That is not necessary, Lord," said John. "I believe you. But how will I find people to listen. No one except a few in this desert look for your Kingdom. And the people of the cities find me strange and repellant."
"There are many in Israel who look for the Kingdom, and they will come to you. Your first inquirer is on his way to you now, and he will be a help to you with the people of the cities. Have you any questions regarding your mission?" he asked.
"No," John replied.
"Then continue your journey, and you will meet your first Kingdom seeker on your way." Belfaire turned and walked away from the overhanging rock.
John watched him go a few steps, as he reflected on the messenger’s words. 'What would be his message to Israel? How could he explain cleansing by water? How would he answer questions about the anointed ones? There was so much he did not know.'
"Wait, Lord! I do have some questions," he shouted. But Belfaire was gone. John came out from under his shelter and looked all around. He could see far in each direction, but the messenger was nowhere to be seen.
"I have spoken with the Lord face to face," said John. "And he is no more clear than when he speaks to my thoughts." The sun was low in the sky and already the heat was less. John went to the cavity in the back wall of the rock, grabbed a handful of honey and ran out of the shelter in a swarm of bees. The sweet nourishment was satisfying on his walk to En-gedi.
