Plato tells the story of a shepherd named Gyges, who was in the service of the king. One day there was a great storm and an earthquake where he was pasturing his flock. A great chasm opened in the earth and Gyges descended into the chasm. There he saw many astonishing things, including what looked like a human corpse. Although there were many amazing treasures in the chasm, he took nothing except a gold ring the corpse had on his finger. He then made his way out. He attended the usual meeting of shepherds which reported monthly to the king, and as he was sitting in the meeting, he happened to twist the bezel of the ring towards the inside of his hand. He immediately became invisible to his companions. He was astonished, and began twisting the ring again, and turned the bezel outwards, whereupon he became visible again. He experimented with the ring to see if it really had this power and found that every time he turned it outwards he became visible, and every time he turned it inwards, he became invisible.

Having made this discovery, he managed to get himself invited to the palace where he stole great treasures from the king himself. Being invisible, he would never be caught. There would be no consequences for his actions whatsoever. Plato asks the question, if we remove all consequences, all fear of punishment, is there any reason to seek honesty, virtue, and character. It’s a good question.

Matthew, the writer of our passage, is deeply concerned about connecting Jewish themes with the life and message of Jesus Christ. He connects Old Testament prophecy with events in Jesus’ life as a way of proving his unique relationship with the God of the old covenant. Matthew also connects Jesus’ teachings with Jewish Law, showing how Jesus reinterprets the Law without rejecting it. Jesus as Messiah and Son of God are emphasized; so is the dominant and recurring theme of the Kingdom of God. Jesus brings a new age, fulfilling the enduring expectations of the Jewish people.

One of Matthew’s first connections with Old Testament prophecy comes in the person of John the Baptist. Matthew makes the connection that John the Baptist’s foretelling of the Messiah is foretold by the Prophet Isaiah. This man is the one who prepares the way (Isaiah 40:3); his message and ministry point toward the one who will immediately come after him. Matthew is building his case that Jesus is, in fact, the Messiah that has been anticipated for centuries.

John the Baptist appears on the scene and bridges the old and the new. John’s message and ministry is to the Jews. He stands with the tradition of the Prophets. He shares their “counter-cultural” appeals, calls for repentance, and message of coming judgment; he even looks the part, so to speak. He is living geographically on the edge of society–some think on the edge of sanity. John’s ministry was “in the wilderness,” located between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. It was a rocky and barren environment. John’s allure must have been powerful, for countless people went out to see and hear him. He was disturbing enough for the Pharisees and Sadducees also to seek him in his preferred habitat. As said above, he stands in that grand tradition of the Prophets from centuries before, offending the status quo, intentionally and radically.

And yet, his message and particularly his method are unique. At first, his message seems, again, to be the message of the Prophets. Repent or face God’s wrath. Also like the Prophets, he is responsible for the foretelling of the coming of the Messiah. What is radically different is that His Messiah’s coming is eminent and immanent and true. The Messiah is here.

John the Baptist’s message is a radical one. But his method is just as radical. He baptized. But that’s not different. Baptism was already performed in and before that day. It was not radical to baptize. What was radical is who he baptized. Baptism was one of the required means for a gentile proselytite to become Jewish, along with circumcision and temple sacrifices. And yet who is John calling to be baptized? Who? Jews! This is a radical method, which would have highly offended the Jewish leaders. This explains their unusual visit to the desert.

John the Baptist calls Jews to repentance, not just the common folk–those we all know to be sinful–the tax collectors, the sinners, the prostitutes. But he cries repent! To the Jewish leaders themselves. Repent from your sin. Repent from your own self-righteousness. Repent of your hypocrisy. John did not roll out the red carpet for the leaders, to say the least; he is ready for them. And his proclamation to them is severe. They do not represent the heart of God. He connects them with the very image of Satan, and condemns their basis for their religious self assurance. Just because they follow the line of Abraham does not prevent them from suffering under the judgment of God. They will be judged by their fruit, not their family heritage. Repentance literally means to change one’s mind, or to turn around and take the opposite path. John has perfected the message of turning away from sins.

And yet, this is where he stands only on the edge of the Gospel. For his methods are from the days of old. Commanding the people to repent. Threatening with wrath if they don’t. If you do not repent, you will die. This is what you are doing, these are the consequences. Stop what you are doing, and there will be different consequences. Very straight forward. But is this the Gospel?

There is something less than ideal about a repentance that is done to avoid punishment. A psychologist named Kolberg developed an elaborate test to measure maturity in the area of moral reasoning. He concluded that morality to avoid punishment is the very lowest motivation for doing what is right. Is this what Christianity is all about. At all cost, avoid punishment, and we leave it at that.

But let’s go back to Plato. Ultimately, Plato is trying to make the point that virtue is not true virtue if it is done, simply as an avoidance of punishment. Nor is virtue, virtue, if it is done for a reward. There is something higher, something deeper, something wider that must motivate the human spirit to do good, at least in Plato’s estimation, if it is to be truly good. Let’s use our own language. I think it is fair to say that holiness is not holiness if our motivation is simply to avoid punishment. I also think it is fair to say that holiness is not holiness if our motivation is to gain a reward, even dare I say, an eternal reward. There must be something higher, something deeper, something wider within our spirit that must motivate us to holy living.

We know, pretty well I believe, what we are repenting away from, what we are turning our backs on, what temptations trip us the most easily, what we are leaving behind when we turn. We know very well what we repent from. Let me suggest that the greater question is what we repent toward. I believe that this question, what we repent to, gets us closer to that motivation that takes us higher, deeper, wider, than avoiding punishment or seeking rewards. Grasping for what we repent towards, without reservation, is what gives us a new heart. In other words, the Kingdom of God is for those who understand that salvation goes deeper than following a religious code.

John has perfected the message of turning from our sins. But we can’t stop there, short of the full gospel. The higher, deeper, wider, comes from Jesus the Christ, the Messiah who comes. John’s baptism is a baptism of repentance with water—a symbol of the cleansing of our sins and of turning from sin and death. Jesus’ baptism will be a baptism fire, a baptism of true transformation, with the Holy Spirit—a symbol of the cleansing of our hearts, and living a whole new life.

Mildred Bangs Wynkoop once said that the opposite of sin is not sinlessness. Holiness is not an absence of something, namely sin. Holiness is the presence of something greater, namely love. In other words, it is possible to try to clean away all our sin, but if we succeeded we would still be missing the true meaning of the Christian life. Paul himself said that he was perfect in keeping the law. But before he met Christ, this self-righteous legalism was empty and vain. Something more was needed. We certainly need more than some legalistic righteousness.

When we come to God, We turn toward a God, who loved us so much that he gave an only begotten Son; we turn toward a Son who loved us so much he gave his life, suffering and dying for our sake; We move toward a Sanctifier who changes our hearts from within, and empowers us to follow God; who radically changes our inner motivation for obedience by giving us true freedom. We turn toward Love itself, experienced by the presence of the Holy Spirit. This gives our life meaning and purpose and eternal Joy. As we allow the Holy Spirit to burn any chaff within us, the wheat will remain and we will bear fruit as a consequential outcome of living our lives in God. As Jesus said, he came to give us life and that abundantly. This is the message of the Gospel. The Messiah is the means. This is the new covenant.