I’ll never forget the sermon I heard as a graduating senior at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in the spring of 2002. The preacher was Gordon Hugenberger (b. 1948), an adjunct professor at the seminary and the senior pastor at Park Street Church in Boston. His text came from John 1:19–23 and John 3:28–30. My friends and I were so moved by the sermon that one of the guys (thank you, Joey!) made a cassette tape for each one of us. Over twenty years later, we still reference the message when we are together.
Not the Christ
In John 1:19, we read that an official delegation of priests and Levites has been sent to John the Baptist to ask him a simple question: “Who are you?” Even though this is only the first chapter of the book, John is already a big deal. He baptizes, he preaches, he calls people to repent, and he stirs up controversy. Everyone wants to know who John is. Here’s this strange man with strange clothes and strange eating habits and a big following. What’s he all about? What are his credentials? Who is he? That’s what the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem want to figure out.
John’s answer to their question is as shocking as it is freeing: “He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, ‘I am not the Christ’” (verse 20). John gives his answer without reservation and without hesitation. He does not hedge. He does not qualify. He does not beat around the bush. He proclaims it with absolute clarity: “Listen up. Let me tell you who I am by telling you who I am not. Read my lips: I am not the Christ.”
What remarkable humility. Here comes this delegation of leaders eager to see what all the fuss is about. Matthew tells us, “Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region about the Jordan were going out to him” (Matthew 3:5). The Jews were wondering if John might be the sort of person they had been waiting for — a prophet, maybe Elijah, maybe even the Messiah. And the first thing that comes out of John’s mouth is, “I’m not the guy you’re looking for.”
How different from the way most of us posture and position ourselves. I might have said, “Well, technically I am not the Christ, but I am really close with him. I’m not saying I’m as important, but I do play a pretty significant role. By the way, did you know we’re cousins?” John doesn’t do any of that. If anything, he undersells his significance. He emphasizes his main point three times: “I confess, and I do not deny; I confess I am not the Christ.”
Crucial Confession
Although Dr. Hugenberger was well regarded as a brilliant Old Testament scholar, what made his senior chapel sermon so memorable was its simplicity. Throughout the sermon, he would say, “Christian, what do you believe?” Then we would respond in antiphonal fashion, “I am not the Christ.” He kept hammering away at John’s confession in chapter 1 and then linked it with John’s statement in chapter 3: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). The whole sermon was about the expectations and temptations pastors face to act like they are Messiahs. It was exactly the message we needed to hear as eager, zealous, potentially anxious graduating seniors.
I remember, in particular, how Hugenberger began the sermon. In my memory, it went something like this:
I want to introduce to you a confession that is more important than the Westminster Confession or the Belgic Confession. Some of you may be fond of the Augsburg Confession or the Second Helvetic Confession. But this confession is more important than all these. No doubt, you confess the Apostles’ Creed, and you confess the Nicene Creed, but I have a confession for you without which all other confessions are worthless. This confession is absolutely essential for your effectiveness in ministry, your joy in ministry, and even your survival in ministry. The confession I am talking about is the confession of John the Baptist, who confessed boldly and gladly, “I am not the Christ.”
I’ve semi-preached this sermon a couple times before (giving due credit to Dr. Hugenberger). I’ve referenced this sermon in candidating at each of the three churches I’ve served. I always mention this sermon in the first week of my pastoral ministry course.
Dr. Hugenberger’s sermon was funny in parts. He encouraged us to develop a ministry of absence, to skip meetings once in a while, so people know we are not that important. It was well-crafted and well-delivered. But most of all, it was a simple, biblical reminder of a truth that pastors (and churches) can too easily forget.
Pointers to the Point
I told the dear saints at Christ Covenant back in 2017 when I first arrived, “You need to know that your pastor is not the Christ. I will try my best to be faithful, to love you well, to preach and lead and pray well. But I am not omnipresent. I am not omniscient. I am not omnicompetent. I cannot meet with everyone who wants to meet with me. I will not excel in every area that you might want a pastor to excel. I will work hard, but I cannot be the Holy Spirit in your life. And I am not Jesus.”
This may sound like a rebuke to church people for expecting too much of their pastor. But that’s not how I’ve delivered the message (I hope), and it’s not how God’s people have heard the message. I think church members are actually pleased to hear that their pastor knows what he is not. I think most Christians take well to being reminded that Jesus is the point and that pastors are just pointers.
And what’s true of pastors is true for all of us. We can’t do it all. We can’t save our kids. We can’t be everywhere at once. We won’t finish our to-do list every day (or ever). The universe does not hold together by the word of our power. So, we better get this confession of faith nailed to the wall of our heads and buried deep into our hearts.
Let All God’s People Say
John, of course, was legitimately a big deal, but he wanted to emphasize in his introduction that he was a big nobody. “I want you to know right off the bat that, one, I’m not the Christ, two, I’m not Elijah, and three, I’m not the Prophet. Got it?” When John finally comes around to affirming something about himself, he says, in essence, “If you need some title, here’s what you can say about me: I am a voice” (John 1:23). No résumé, no curriculum vitae, no dust jacket. Just a voice crying in the wilderness.
John knew his place. He was a voice announcing the Word made flesh. He wasn’t the groom; he was the best man, which means pastoral ministry is about bringing Christ and the church together, not about making the bride of Christ fall in love with the pastor.
We all want to be important, to be significant, to make a difference in the world, to do something that matters. Pastors have those desires as much as anyone. And they aren’t bad desires, as long as we realize that the story is not about us, that self-worth stems from self-forgetfulness, and that a humble life is a happy life. The confession of John the Baptist brings me back to the central and indispensable truth that I am not the main attraction, but I know the one who is.
Christian, what do you believe? And all God’s people said, “I am not the Christ.”
