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What It’s like to Preach in the Wilderness
“The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” (Mark 1:3)
When people choose a career, they want to make a living. Most also want to make a difference. Future doctors undergo the rigors of medical school not just for the future paycheck but because they desire to serve the sick. And as an aspiring physician, you assume you’ll never lack for patients.
The same is true for aspiring preachers. You go to seminary, learning how to understand and communicate God’s Word, all the while presuming an audience. The unspoken assumption in most homiletics classes is there’ll always be people in the pews.
But what happens when your message becomes unpopular? Or when those who once appreciated your preaching no longer do? Or when the Lord decides to bring a period of spiritual dryness on the people out of his desire to bring them back to him? Preachers can’t always expect loyal listeners, sermon subscribers, or sincere seekers. When we look to Scripture, we see a long list of prophetic witnesses who were rejected by the surrounding culture. They were preachers in exile.
In the biblical record, most preachers were voices in the wilderness, not orators in an oasis. Faithful preaching has never depended on a willing audience; it’s about preparing people for the coming Christ. We see this clearly in the life of John the Baptist, and his ministry in the desert gives us a positive example of boldness and humility while preaching as exiles.
Preparing the Way
John the Baptizer, as he’s sometimes called, appeared after four centuries of silence from God. As the apocryphal book of 1 Maccabees tells us, Israel didn’t have a prophetic voice during that time (9:27). No new revelation came to the people of God for 400 years, and then John appeared as “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight’” (Mark 1:3).
When we look to Scripture, we see a long list of prophetic witnesses who were rejected by the surrounding culture. They were preachers in exile.
John paved the way for Christ by calling Israel to repentance. He didn’t preach only to common people but to everyone, including religious and political leaders (Matt. 3:7). Imagine what the Pharisees and Sadducees must have thought of this new preacher, an audacious outsider ministering at the Jordan River. We’re told John was there offering a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. But why should God’s people need to be baptized, let alone repent?
In his preaching, John was particularly stern with the Pharisees and the Sadducees, those he called a “brood of vipers” (vv. 7–8). Such preaching required courage. Where did this courage come from? I believe John had two primary motivations: he understood Israel to be under God’s judgment and himself to be under God’s commission.
This prophet of God knew the urgency of Israel’s repentance, realizing it wasn’t enough to be a child of Abraham to be saved (vv. 8–9). Hebrew blood didn’t provide spiritual immunity. Salvation was secured then only by trusting in the Christ who was to come (Hab. 2:4) and now, for us, by trusting in the Christ who’s already come (Rom. 1:17).
Yet I don’t think John was a prophet of doom. He was a godly man sensitive to sin. We can see this in his encounter with Herod. At the risk of his life, John confronted the wicked ruler, consistently calling Herod to turn from his unlawful marriage (Mark 6:18). This faithful preaching led to John’s arrest, imprisonment, and eventual beheading.
Whether it was to pious Pharisees or corrupt kings, John’s approach was the same: He spoke the truth. He called sinners to repentance. Why? Because he was filled with reverence for God and concern for sinners’ final destinies. We need more preachers like this today. John wasn’t trying to entertain. He was willing to be unpopular. He’d rather see people sorrowful for a moment but joyful for eternity.
Unsurprisingly, John’s preaching wasn’t well received, either by religious leaders or political powers. If we’re also going to be preachers in exile, we must expect similar opposition. We may not see significant results, but our primary calling has never been humanly defined success. The heroes of faith listed in Hebrews 11 bear witness to this truth. Preachers must remain faithful whether people listen or not (cf. Ezek. 2:5).
John preached in the wilderness. That dry land perhaps symbolizes Israel’s barren heart at the time. And who’s going to listen to a preacher while in the desert of unbelief? For that matter, who’s going to listen to us when we preach as exiles in a society that despises Christians and disregards God’s Word? No one will listen unless the Spirit draws and convicts him. But the barren desert was where the Spirit led this prophet to preach. And it’s the desert—the place we might least expect God to work—where the Spirit often does his greatest miracles.
John’s Forerunners
As John began to preach in the wilderness, we’re told he ate locusts and wild honey (Matt. 3:4). This is an insufficient diet for any human. Perhaps this detail reveals not only John’s poverty and simplicity but also that he was sustained by God. Like the prophet Elijah, he depended entirely on God for his provision.
John dressed in camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist (Mark 1:6). This was likely an intentional decision to pattern his ministry after Elijah’s (2 Kings 1:8). We learn John’s commission from God was like Elijah’s too: John was to go before Christ “in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared” (Luke 1:17).
But John doesn’t only follow in the footsteps of Elijah. As Jesus pointed out on multiple occasions, the prophets of old were repeatedly rejected by their hearers (Matt. 5:12; 21:33–36; 23:29–31). God’s prophets have often been called to minister in hard places. That was the case for Daniel and Ezekiel, who lived for decades under pagan kings in Babylon.
Ezekiel was sent to speak to the people in exile (Ezek. 1:1), to those who were there because they transgressed God’s law for centuries (2:1–7). From the beginning, Ezekiel was informed about the kind of ministry he’d have: “The house of Israel will not be willing to listen to you, for they are not willing to listen to me: because all the house of Israel have a hard forehead and a stubborn heart” (3:7).
A couple hundred years earlier, the prophet Isaiah was sent to preach to the southern kingdom of Judah. At his calling, Isaiah was informed he’d similarly be unsuccessful (Isa. 6:8–13). Many of the prophets experienced metaphorical exile while living in Israel. Their own people rejected both the prophets and the God who sent them. Israel didn’t want their preaching, their counsel, or their warnings. But then again, Jesus said prophets shouldn’t expect honor and respect in their hometowns (Mark 6:4).
And so, these preachers were exiles. Estranged from the world, they were never at home. Instead, they were mistreated, persecuted, and even killed (Matt. 23:31). This is the pattern for all who announce God’s Word to the world—whether pastors or missionaries, schoolteachers or factory workers, health care providers or delivery drivers. God’s spokespeople have often been ostracized and opposed by those they seek to save. They’ve been preachers in exile.
Voices in the Wilderness
Four years ago, the world awoke to a global pandemic. Within weeks, nearly every nation was in lockdown. Airports, seaports, businesses, schools, government offices, and many other facilities were closed. Pastors immediately faced monumental challenges. Were we going to close our church doors? If so, how could we effectively minister to people in the middle of pain and confusion while not in close proximity?
Like many others, I felt the burden to preach. I wanted to comfort and encourage our people while offering them a sense of hope. Meanwhile, many of our people wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible. And yet, when it came to the life of the church, the previous “normal” was part of the problem. In many places throughout Latin America and beyond, the spiritual life of believers diminished significantly. In other places, it almost died.
God’s spokespeople have often been ostracized and opposed by those they seek to save. They’ve been preachers in exile.
In those early days, our pastoral team decided to continue our preaching services, which meant speaking to a mostly empty room, to a camera and a group of 10 people in an auditorium that could fit 2,500 people. I remember beginning my message on the first Sunday by stating this was probably the hardest sermon I’d ever preached. I felt compelled to bring consolation and hope to the people watching online. But I was equally compelled to confront those whose lives were lukewarm, not only in our church but also in many other places in Latin America. I was keenly aware our services were being followed in many nations by members of churches that were totally shut down.
So I preached a new series called “Come Back to Me.” During that time, I spoke about how to respond when you don’t know what to do (2 Chron. 20:12), how to repent and return to God (Jer. 3:12–15), how to have faith in the middle of confusion (Hab. 1–3), and how to renew our worship (Mal. 1–2). By his grace, God used those sermons and others in the series to confront and comfort his people. To remind them, like John, that Christ is coming. To call them to repent.
When the Christian life becomes “church as usual,” it’s time for the desert. We saw God use the pandemic to prune the church of its superficiality, to strengthen its faith, and to purify its doctrine. If more difficult days are ahead, we must continue to preach in the wilderness. We must not lose heart. We must remember the arid desert can be the place of God’s most dramatic work. To be prepared for such a day, we must pay attention to John the Baptist’s character. He has much to teach us.
Learn from John
Jesus said of John, “Among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11). Yet John was a humble man. He prepared the way then got out of the way. He knew Jesus was the Bridegroom; he was only the friend, the one with short-lived renown. For that reason, John said, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:29–30). John recognized himself as only an unworthy servant (Luke 3:16).
It can be said John was the only preacher who raised a congregation to follow another preacher (John 1:35–37). That was his purpose. He wasn’t jealous of the new rabbi in town. John came to introduce Jesus to the people and then to disappear from their sight. Pastors, if our congregations follow us as leaders, we must follow Christ along with them, pointing them to the chief Shepherd (1 Pet. 5:1–5) so they’ll follow him long after we’re gone.
Pastors, if our congregations follow us as leaders, we must follow Christ along with them, pointing them to the chief Shepherd so they’ll follow him long after we’re gone.
Like John, preachers in the wilderness must always remember who we are and who we’re not. John knew he wasn’t the Messiah. When asked if he was Elijah or the Prophet to come, he answered in the negative. When pressed (“What do you say about yourself?”), he said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” (John 1:20–23). That’s all he was, and it’s all we can claim to be. Preachers in exile. Voices in the wilderness.
John has always impressed me. But the older I get, the more I appreciate his meekness. John could’ve said, “I’m the son of Zechariah the priest and a descendant of Aaron, the brother of Moses.” He could’ve introduced himself as the one filled with the Spirit at birth. But John wouldn’t say such a thing, because he understood the greatness of a man doesn’t consist in what he says about himself but in what he doesn’t say. Jesus said John was the greatest person ever born of woman (Matt. 11:11). Yet his greatness was seen in his willingness to take the lowest place (cf. Luke 14:10).
Jesus also identified John as “a burning and shining lamp” and said people “were willing to rejoice for a while in his light” (John 5:35). It seems John experienced some popularity—with crowds following him all the way into the wilderness—but only for a time. Once they came close enough to the lamp to feel the heat, it was too much to bear. Then many left him. Even Herod enjoyed listening to John for a while, but that changed when John confronted him about his sin (Mark 6:17–29).
If cultural exile is on the horizon for the church, preachers might expect a similar response. Churches once full may soon become empty. Instead of willing audiences, we may speak before hostile crowds. As Jesus promised, we may even be taken in to stand before committees, councils, or Congress (13:9). But, as John shows us, even that will be an opportunity for the gospel.
The one who came to prepare the way for the coming Christ never compromised the truth. He never failed to fulfill his responsibility. He preached with boldness and conviction. Like the prophets of old, he acted as the conscience of the nation. And like many of them, he risked his life—eventually losing it. The voice in the wilderness wasn’t willing to stay silent to save his skin. He wasn’t afraid of dying because he’d already given his life to the One who had called him to preach.
Faithful Preachers
Preaching as exiles is a monumental responsibility. At the same time, it’s a tremendous privilege. To be God’s mouthpiece isn’t something we earn or deserve. We didn’t apply for the job. We were graciously and sovereignly selected to be God’s ambassadors. An ambassador is one sent to another country to bring a message not his own. As Christ’s representatives, we must faithfully deliver the message he’s entrusted to us (2 Cor. 5:20).
Therefore, we implore others on behalf of Christ to be reconciled to God. We preach the gospel of the One who “made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (v. 21). That’s our message, the message we must preach whether people listen or not. They need to know “that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Cor. 15:3–4). Why? Because “we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil” (2 Cor. 5:10).
People must hear the gospel, for there’s no salvation unless they call on Christ. But how will they believe in him unless a preacher is sent to them (Rom. 10:14–15)? We’re those preachers. We’re sent out so the nations might believe and be saved. As we go, let’s not forget we must embody this message. Like John, we should be humble, simple, courageous, Christ-centered, submissive, and single-minded. Like John, we should be risk takers, willing to live and serve in hard places, conscious our lives are not our own.
As exile encroaches, preachers of the gospel must not be like those who shrink back but like those who persevere to the end, encouraging others to do the same for God’s glory. What a glorious race to run and a worthy battle to fight! May God find us faithful, proclaiming the truth and calling all people to repent of their sin and trust in the coming King.
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