John the Baptist Was Not Nice. He Was Good.
On the Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, the Church gives us a witness our age badly needs. John was not cruel or vain, but he also was not merely nice. He shows the difference between evasive niceness and truthful charity.
Summary
On the Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, the Church gives us a witness our age badly needs. John was not cruel or vain, but he also was not merely nice. He shows the difference between evasive niceness and truthful charity.
Transcript
Wednesday is the feast of Saint John the Baptist, and he gives us a hard question modern Christians often avoid.
What if love is not always nice?
John the Baptist was not cruel. He was not vain. He was not performing outrage for attention. But no honest reading of the Gospel can call him merely nice.
He appears in the wilderness, clothed in camel’s hair, eating locusts and wild honey, telling Israel to repent.
He does not flatter the crowd.
He does not smooth the room.
He does not make sin sound safer than it is.
And yet the Church honors him as a saint, a prophet, and the forerunner of Christ.
That should make us reconsider what we mean by goodness.
Because nice is not the same as good.
Nice keeps the atmosphere comfortable.
Nice avoids awkwardness.
Nice does not want to embarrass anyone, confront anyone, correct anyone, or risk being disliked.
There is a place for courtesy, gentleness, patience, and good manners. Christians should not become rude people baptizing impatience as courage.
But John the Baptist shows us that the Christian life cannot be ordered only toward keeping every social surface smooth.
It is ordered toward charity.
And charity means willing the good of the other.
The good — not merely their comfort, not merely their approval, not merely their unchallenged self-image.
John’s whole life is a witness to this distinction.
He tells the people to repent, not because he despises them, but because the kingdom of heaven is near.
He calls out hypocrisy, not because he enjoys conflict, but because false religion kills the soul.
He points away from himself and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” because his mission is not to win admiration. His mission is to make Christ known.
Then he speaks the sentence that costs him everything.
To Herod he says, “It is not lawful for you to have her.”
That sentence is not nice.
It does not protect the mood of the palace.
It does not preserve access to power.
It does not leave everyone feeling affirmed.
But it is good.
Because love cannot bless what is destroying a soul.
A friend who watches someone destroy himself and says only affirming things may seem compassionate. But he is not willing the friend’s good.
A parent who never corrects a child may seem pleasant for a moment. But he is not loving the child well.
A pastor who avoids every hard teaching because people might leave may seem welcoming. But welcome without truth becomes a waiting room with no doctor.
That is the problem with niceness as a moral ideal.
It can care more about the atmosphere in the room than the condition of the soul.
Niceness asks, “Will this make things unpleasant?”
Goodness asks, “What does love require?”
Sometimes love requires silence, patience, timing, and restraint.
Not every hard word is holy.
Not every uncomfortable statement is brave.
Some people tell the truth with pride, contempt, or impatience, and then call themselves prophets.
John the Baptist is not an excuse for that.
He does not point to himself.
He points to Christ.
“He must increase, but I must decrease.”
That is why his severity is not ego.
It is witness.
The alternative to niceness is not cruelty.
The alternative is truthful charity.
Truth without charity becomes a weapon.
Charity without truth becomes sentimentality.
John refuses both counterfeits.
He is severe because the soul is serious.
He is humble because the message is not about him.
He is brave because love sometimes has to say the word everyone else is paid, pressured, or afraid not to say.
And this is why John prepares the way for Jesus.
Jesus is merciful. Jesus receives sinners. Jesus is patient with weakness. Jesus is moved with compassion.
But Jesus is not merely nice.
He warns.
He commands.
He tells people to repent.
He forgives sins and then says, “Go, and sin no more.”
He comforts the afflicted, but he also disturbs the comfortable when their comfort has become a prison.
John is not greater than Christ. He is the voice crying out before Christ.
And the voice says: prepare the way.
Make straight the path.
Tell the truth before the truth arrives in the flesh.
So on the feast of John the Baptist, the question is not whether we should become harsher people.
The question is whether we have confused kindness with avoidance.
Am I silent because love requires patience, or because I am afraid?
Am I avoiding this conversation because it would be unwise, or because it would be uncomfortable?
Am I being gentle, or merely evasive?
Am I trying to keep peace, or just trying to keep everyone liking me?
John the Baptist did not live for approval.
He lived to point to the Lamb.
And sometimes pointing to the Lamb means saying, with humility and courage, that the path we are on is not lawful, not life-giving, and not the way home.
Nice can keep peace for an hour.
Goodness can save a soul.