“Good Cop/Bad Cop”

I like those old detective movies with the “good cop, bad cop” routine. The first cop is mean and a little crazy and ready to beat the snot out of the prisoner “constitutional rights” or no. The good cop comes in at the last minute and empathizes with the poor slob’s situation and gains his trust. It’s so effective in the movies. I’ve often wondered if it really works like that in real life?

I couldn’t help think “Good cop/bad cop” reading our Gospel this morning. This is more what we’re used to for Advent now, isn’t it? John the Baptist, the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Wrath, fire, axes, judgment. “Make straight the way of the Lord!” and all that…

And for getting straightened out, wow—there’s no one like John the Baptist, huh? What a guy! The quintessential “bad cop” in my book. Except, unlike the film noir bad cops, John isn’t operating outside the law or the rules. Nope. He’s operating with a “strict interpretation” of the Law, a hard-line, hard-edged, no slack, and no slackers allowed reading that leaves no wiggle room for sinners.

Which is what makes John a much more frightening (and for me as a sinner myself) a far from sympathetic character. The bad cops in the movies you can kind of disregard and enjoy hating because they are breaking the rules and eventually they get their just desserts. Usually it turns out they were on the take anyway (the good cop is always the good guy).

But John is following the book all the way. When he turns the bright light square in your face, and throws the hot coffee on your lap, there’s not much you can do or say, because it’s all according to the book. It’s what the old testament law says we all have coming to us for our sin.

So when John starts going on about axes laid to the root of the trees and fires that are going to burn us all up (and not in a good way, I’m afraid, but in a bad way—in a way that consumes and destroys you forever; in a “fires of judgment” kind of way, which, to be honest, I’m really looking to avoid) and wrath and judgment for sinners who don’t bear fruits worthy of repentance, and a day of reckoning coming at us like a freight train when we’re tied to the tracks—well, I don’t know about you, but it makes me kind of… squirmy. Uncomfortable. Looking for the good cop to appear with consoling and kind words.

Can I share something with you? I don’t like John the Baptist very much. I never have. I know we’re supposed to admire him and everything. I know he gets his own pink candle on the wreath (but I’m never sure why, really. Pink just does not seem like this guy’s color, to me…)  but anyway, John the Baptist has an honored place in the church’s calendar of saints. He was prominently featured in the Sunday School lessons of my childhood with vivid illustrations (he always looked pretty crazy to me, but maybe that was just me). Really, I just don’t like the guy though. I don’t really look forward to having to preach sermons featuring John, because I feel like I’m supposed to paint him in a favorable light, but really, it’s kind of tough for me. I find it difficult to say nice things about him. I couldn’t see myself having been a disciples of his.

And when he gets his head chopped off by Herod I feel bad, but not as bad as I do for Samson or Stephen. I mean, hey, riding Herod so hard about his lifestyle choices—John was kind of asking for it, a little bit, don’t you think? Harping on morality with political tyrants is risky business. Prophets beware!

John is really cranky, don’t you think? I’m not even going to get into his taste in clothing in food. That’s obviously disturbing. But let’s just look at whether he would have been a nice person to hang out with and grab a donut with at Krispy Kreme. Aside from the fact that he probably wouldn’t approve of sugar or eat donuts anyway, I think you’d have to admit that John would not be the sort of person you or I would wish to socialize with anyway, anywhere. He’s just too cranky.

I mean, people come out to be baptized by him. That’s a good thing, right? John is always yelling about sin and repentance and making a straight path for the Lord. He offers this baptism as a way of repentance and new life. So, here come some of the Pharisees and Sadducees, reconsidering their lifestyle choices and thinking maybe about turning over a new leaf and John just rips into them: “Brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come…!” I mean really. Do you want them to repent or not, John? It doesn’t seem to me like he really does want them to repent all that much. It seems more like he wants to see them all burned up in the fires of hell and cut down from their mighty places by this ax he’s always on about…

John even makes Jesus sound mean. Coming with a “winnowing fan in His hand, to clean out His threshing floor and burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” But when Jesus shows up, I’ve always wondered, “Um, where’s the winnowing fan? Where’s the fire? Jesus comes with forgiveness for sinners. With no strings attached. When He speaks of the lake of fire (very occasionally) it’s always with a shudder and an obviously earnest desire to rescue us all from that. Jesus would much rather talk mercy than justice…”

Which brings me back to this good cop/bad cop thing. What John says is all true after all, even though it’s bad news. One of our problems is that we think the law is good news. We think that moral behavior, upright conduct, and lots of good works are the ticket to heaven. We imagine when we talk love and good deeds we’re talking something happy. But for sinners and slackers like us, it’s not good news. The law always accuses us. And someone like John, who really loves the law and preaches it straight, no chaser, is going to finally be a bad news, bad cop kind of guy who will scare the beejeebers out of us.

But this turns out to be a good thing. Breaking our illusions about the law, making us see how harsh and hateful it is to and for sinners is facing a hard but necessary truth. And it creates a new desire in us. A longing for a good cop, a redeemer, a merciful one who will cut us all a break.

That’s Jesus. The good guy. When He comes, He’s not angry at all. He left the winnowing fan behind, it turns out. And the ax. And the wrath. He comes humble, lowly. Born in a stable. Riding on a donkey. Preaching mercy and forgiveness and peace to all, to the worst and the least first and foremost. My kind of Guy.

If it wasn’t for John would I be looking for Jesus so much? Probably not. So the “bad cop” has his role; and it turns out to be a good one. Oh, John will never be a favorite for me. Nope. But I can at least see that John’s old testament, bad cop, law thing is a necessary thing for me. He prepares the way for Jesus by leaving me out of doubt that Jesus is the only One for me, that His advent is the ticket on which I’ve got everything riding. So when Jesus says “if you’re weary and heavy laden, come on over to Me and find rest”—well, hey, I’m ready to go. Right now! And here He is with Peace, that surpasses all understanding, that guards heart and mind in Christ Jesus the Savior. Amen.