Lessons from John the Baptizer

The Tears of Things

When we consider spiritual maturity, one of the first obstacles that often emerges is judgment. It’s easy to fall into the trap of seeing ourselves as morally superior, especially when we feel that our beliefs and practices are grounded in truth. However, John the Baptizer's life, full of righteous anger and moral certainty, offers us a powerful reminder that judgment can often obscure the very spiritual transformation we seek. The judger always has a leg up on the judged, even if his judgment is wrong. [1] This is something we all must be wary of—how easily the ego disguises itself as righteousness. The tendency to judge others, even when we think we are standing on solid ground, can hinder our spiritual progress. True maturity involves not just recognizing right from wrong but transcending the need to feel superior, and instead, embracing humility. Until we do this, we will always remain at a distance from the true heart of spirituality. (Matthew 7:1-5)

John the Baptizer, despite his deep sincerity and commitment, was ultimately an unfinished prophet. The reason for this was his inability to move beyond the sense of superiority that governed his approach to spirituality. He remained trapped in a mindset that kept him from seeing the deeper, more transformative experience of God's love. But John still had to get rid of his head before he could see from his heart. [1] This is the essence of spiritual growth—getting out of our own heads, letting go of intellectual and moral certainties, and opening ourselves to the deeper wisdom that resides in our hearts. Spiritual maturity doesn’t come from being right or pure but from the willingness to embrace our flaws, to learn from them, and to cultivate a deeper sense of humility. Only when we abandon our need to judge and control can we experience the true depth of spiritual transformation. (James 4:6-10)

This brings us to a critical point: how often do religious practices get reduced to mere identity markers rather than pathways to real spiritual transformation? Baptism, for instance, is one of the most profound symbols of spiritual initiation, yet it has often been misunderstood as a simple rite of purity or belonging. Baptism became an entryway into a cult of innocence instead of a journey of solidarity with the wrong and the wronged. [1] When baptism is turned into an external badge of innocence or superiority, it loses its true meaning as a profound initiation into the shared suffering and hope of humanity. The real invitation of baptism is not to separate ourselves from others but to join with them in their struggles, to enter into their pain and joy, and to transform with them. True spirituality is about connection, not separation. Practices that focus on outward displays of piety or purity only serve to distance us from the deeper, more intimate connection that God is calling us toward. (Romans 6:3-4)

Baptism, in its most authentic form, calls us into a radical solidarity with the world's suffering. It’s not about distancing ourselves from the brokenness of life but about entering into it with full awareness and compassion. When the foundational initiation rite is wrongly understood—seen as an identity badge and not an initiation into death itself—baptism became an entryway into a cult of innocence instead of a journey of solidarity with the wrong and the wronged. [1] True initiation is not about escaping the world’s pain but about embracing it, living in solidarity with those who suffer, and transforming alongside them. Baptism, like all spiritual practices, invites us into this journey of solidarity—where we do not separate ourselves from the suffering of the world, but unite with it, offering healing and grace in the process. (Matthew 25:35-40)

Now, this journey into deeper understanding is not confined to any one group, nor is it limited to a particular ideology. Whether you are a traditionalist or a progressive, it’s easy to get caught in the trap of focusing on the external markers of spirituality—rules, political correctness, dogmas. The divine love affair that characterizes the prophets is still mostly unknown to liberals or conservatives. [1] We get so caught up in our own sense of correctness that we miss the deeper invitation of spirituality, which transcends labels and divisions. True spiritual maturity involves moving beyond the confines of external identities—whether religious, political, or social—and moving into a more profound experience of divine love. This love is not confined to one side or the other; it is universal, embracing all of humanity in its transformative grace. The call is to transcend our need to be right or perfect and, instead, to open ourselves fully to the love that flows beyond all boundaries. (Galatians 3:28)

We must remember that God’s grace is always at work in us, regardless of our divisions, flaws, or mistakes. Thank God that he uses our mistakes to bring us to himself, so don’t stop noticing your flaws and blind spots. [1] It is in our recognition of our imperfections, in our willingness to be humble and to learn from our shortcomings, that we are drawn closer to God. Grace is not about being flawless; it’s about embracing our flaws, seeing them as opportunities for growth, and allowing God’s transformative love to work through them. No matter where we are on our spiritual journey—whether we feel deeply connected to divine love or are struggling to find our way—grace continues to meet us where we are. It transcends human divisions and invites us all to awaken to a deeper, more compassionate way of being in the world. Grace is what makes us whole, and it is what continually draws us into the heart of the divine. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things