Like the long rays of an autumn sunrise, curiosity spread from Jerusalem throughout Judea and to all the region of the Jordan, warmly inviting all to come to the river. As the days passed, the seeking crowds swelled ever larger along the water’s edge, awaiting an opportunity to wade into the waters. Thaddeus took the hand of a tender, elderly woman and led her a few steps forward into the stream. As the water deepened, reaching to her knees, she grasped his arm more firmly and moved her feet more cautiously, trying to keep her balance. He steadied her patiently, for although the water nearby John only reached his belt, it seemed a dangerous depth for her. When their turn came, Thaddeus delicately placed her into John’s care. After hearing her confession, he declared, “I baptize you in the waters of repentance,” and immediately immersed the trembling woman in the river. When she stood on her feet again, her timidity had been washed away with her sins. Forgiven and courageous, she walked confidently, returning to the shore with Thaddeus only holding lightly to her arm.

Before reaching the riverbank, boisterous and agitated cries came from behind them, with a spray of splashing water as John rushed toward the shore, where a large delegation in opulent robes stood out pretentiously amidst the humble masses. “Brood of vipers!” screamed the Baptist as he ran through the shallows. “Who has warned you to escape the wrath to come? Repent! Repent and be baptized. Where are the fruits of your repentance?” But for all his indictments, they stood fixed, like a stone wall—Pharisees and Sadducees, priests and Levites, a patchwork of rival factions cemented together by their piety and pride. All of them were richly dressed, impeccably groomed, and noticeably uncomfortable in these backwater surroundings. After assisting the elderly woman to shore, Thaddeus directed her away from the developing confrontation. Seekers and followers alike separated themselves from the delegation as the confrontation unfolded.

Thaddeus recognized many of them from the feast at Caiaphas’s palace. The delegation stood apart, aloof, arrogant, and indignant in their self-righteousness. As John moved up the riverbank toward them, he stooped to pick up a large stone. While his words stung them with insult, fear overtook them at the sight of the stone held high, and they withdrew a pace, murmuring one to another. One apprehensive priest stepped forward to face the challenge and present their demands. Imagining he could brave the onslaught, he stood his ground, trembling. John lifted the stone higher and renewed his tirade against them. “Do not think to say of yourselves, ‘We have Abraham for our father!’ No!” he roared more fiercely. “I tell you that out of these stones, God can raise up children for Abraham.”

Angrily, he threw the stone to the ground, then lifted his staff with both hands. The spokesman recoiled in terror and huddled for safety amidst his quaking compatriots. John struck the ground with a forcible stroke, ferociously animating the words of his prophecy, “The ax is already laid to the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire!” But their skittish reaction made it evident they were unprepared to deal with John’s intensity.

Having emerged unscathed from John’s confrontation, they regarded it as little more than a display of theatrics. The representative priest thrust his chest forward impertinently once again. “Who are you?” he began with a quavering voice, trying desperately to strengthen his confidence. Encouraged by the sound of his own voice, he stood his ground more courageously and renewed his demands in earnest. “What account do you give of yourself?”

Although John had berated them in his rage, he now faced their inquisition with composure. Showing no regard for his interrogators, he gave his defiance with undaunted calm. “I freely confess I am not the Messiah.”

But his unpretentious answer angered them. Their muttering grew harsher and more articulate. “Then, who are you? Are you Elijah?” the questioning priest demanded.

Standing tall in rough hides and a leather belt, his feet planted firmly apart, he looked very much like the prophet of old, yet he replied without elaboration, “I am not.”

From the disconcerted delegation rose a clamor of insults and accusations, like a sudden storm breaking. The priest, maddened by John’s obstinacy, snarled maliciously, “Are you the prophet?”

But again, John remained stolid, unaltered, and dispassionate. Giving them no satisfaction, he replied with only a single word, “No.”

Upon hearing this, the assembly became completely distracted by their internal quarrels and disagreements. Everyone was speaking, but no one was listening—each one spewing a continuous stream of reckless vilifications. The spokesman priest’s patience wore thin, and, becoming completely unnerved, he demanded in a venomous screech, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us.”

The crowd fell silent! It seemed an eternity had passed while everyone waited for John’s answer. And when he finally spoke, not one standing there could prevail against the force of his words. “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness,” he roared, lifting his face to the heavens. “Make straight the way of the Lord.”

Thomas and Bartholomew ran to join Thaddeus and the throng of spectators near the water’s edge. “What did we miss?” puffed Bartholomew, catching his breath.

“Some leading men of Jerusalem,” Thaddeus declared, “sent by High Priest Caiaphas and the council; they’ve come to demand answers from John.”

Bartholomew paused to assess the scene, his brow lifting as he took in the pretentious appearance of the delegation. “More high-society braggers, always resisting John’s call to repentance.”

Thomas added, “They seem to think his mission is unauthorized. Who are they to endorse John’s message!”

John persisted, calling for repentance, while the delegation’s words rose against him like a contending army, each reply fiercer than the last, until strife filled the air.

“I’ve seen this happen a lot,” Bartholomew explained. “At first, it was just two or three, but never a bunch this size.”

Thaddeus interjected, “I know some of these men… Well, I mean, I have met some of them. There’s no mistaking them—rich, powerful rulers from the councils, high-minded judges from the courts, egotistical leaders from the schools in Jerusalem.” Seeing how brazenly they stood against the Baptist, it became clear that their defiance was no passing outburst, but a challenge meant to provoke and test his resolve.

Thomas scoffed, “They’re so rigid in their doctrine that they only see things their own way. They don’t understand the Kingdom of Heaven at all.”

The three friends stood rooted to the spot, their eyes wide with astonishment as the battle raged on before them. John made his point in a strong prophetic voice, yet the legal minds of the delegation were unable to comprehend it, making justifications based on their pedigree and adherence to the Law. What John demanded of them was humility and penitence as a sign of a changed heart. The two could not have been farther apart, their stances fixed and separated by a great chasm. They knew the Kingdom of God only as an earthly dominion, which, in their way of thinking, they would obviously exercise authority. By John’s proclamation, he had been sent to prepare the people for the Kingdom—people who submitted their hearts to God’s righteous authority. They anticipated a ruling Messiah and a golden age of prosperity, yet John came to warn them of their hypocrisy and to flee from the wrath to come!

It confounded the disciples that the delegation hadn’t turned around and run at John’s ravings, so they were all the more astounded when a leader of the Pharisees dared to ask John one decisive question: “If you are not Messiah nor Elijah nor the Prophet, why do you baptize?”

That they rejected him did not trouble John, but their resistance to God’s message had reached its limit. He stared sternly at them and pointed his finger in their faces. “I baptize with water for repentance, but after me comes One who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry,” John said passionately. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire!” With fervency, he enacted his prophetic message, pitching unseen wheat over his shoulder with his staff, warning, “His winnowing fork is in His hand, and He will clear His threshing floor, gathering His wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

His words rushed at them like a mighty wind, blowing their resistance away as easily as chaff before the breeze. “Repent and be baptized, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” They had lost the battle and were left without excuse. John the Baptizer turned around, left the delegation silent on the riverbank, and returned to the deepening stream to fulfill his commission. Thaddeus, Thomas, and Bartholomew also withdrew, following him into the waters. Those in the crowd who humbly sought penitence once again formed in queues on the river’s edge, but not one from the delegation joined them. They stayed, unmoving, as the flame of conviction flickered and dimmed within them, and when silence reclaimed their hearts, they drifted away in ones and twos until the ground where they stood was empty.