Long ago, in the hill country of Judea, lived a priest named Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth, a daughter of the family of Aaron. They were good people and kept God's commandments carefully. But there was a sorrow tucked away in that house: the years had gone by, the two of them had grown old, and they had never had a child.

Zechariah served in the Temple at Jerusalem with the priests of the division of Abijah. When their turn came, they drew lots to choose who would enter the sanctuary to burn incense before God. The lot fell on Zechariah. Outside, the people prayed in silence while the sweet smoke drifted upward.

It was there, at the right side of the altar of incense, that Zechariah saw an angel, and the fright nearly took the strength from his knees.

— Do not be afraid, Zechariah — said the angel. — Your prayer has been heard. Elizabeth will give you a son, and you are to name him John. He will walk ahead of the Lord to prepare the way.

Zechariah looked down at his own wrinkled hands.

— How can I be sure of that? I am an old man, and my wife is old too.

— I am Gabriel, and I stand in the presence of God — the angel answered. — I was sent with this good news. But because you did not believe my words, you will not speak again until the day it comes true.

When Zechariah came out, the people knew at once that something had changed. He opened his mouth and no sound came. He tried to explain with his hands, and everyone understood that he had seen a vision. Zechariah went home carrying a whole silence in his chest.

The Leap for Joy

Elizabeth soon learned that she was expecting a child, and she stayed quietly at home, keeping that gladness the way you keep a good secret. Meanwhile, far away in Nazareth, the same angel Gabriel visited a young woman named Mary to tell her she would be the mother of Jesus. It was Gabriel who told Mary that her relative Elizabeth was expecting a child too, already in her sixth month.

Mary did not think twice. She hurried up the stony roads of the hill country to help her older cousin. When she stepped through the door and greeted Elizabeth, something happened that nobody expected: the baby moved strongly inside his mother, like someone leaping for joy. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, greeted Mary with words the whole world still prays today.

Mary stayed about three months helping in that house, and then she went home to Nazareth.

The Naming of the Boy

The day came, and Elizabeth gave birth to a son. The neighbours came, delighted, saying that God had been good to that family. On the eighth day, as the custom required, they gathered to name the baby, already calling the boy Zechariah, after his father.

— No — said Elizabeth. — He is to be called John.

Everyone thought it strange, because nobody in the family had that name, so they made signs to the father. Zechariah asked for a writing tablet, and the whole house waited. He wrote four words: His name is John.

That very moment his tongue was loosed, and the first thing he did with his returned voice was bless God. The news ran through the hills of Judea, and those who heard it wondered what this child would grow up to be. Zechariah took his son in his arms and spoke like a man making a promise:

— And you, little one, will be called a prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways.

The Years in the Desert

The boy grew and grew strong inside. As a young man he went to live in the desert of Judea, and there he stayed until the day he was to appear to the people of Israel. It was a land of sand-coloured rock, dry wind, and hardly any shade. At night it turned cold, and the sky filled with so many stars that it seemed to hang low.

In that silence John learned something almost nobody learns: how to listen. He wore a tunic of camel's hair with a leather belt at his waist, and ate what the desert gave him, locusts and wild honey. He had no house and no money, nothing that could be taken from him. He had only his voice.

The Voice by the River

One day John came down to the banks of the river Jordan and began to speak. He told people to change their lives, because the Kingdom of God was drawing near. Those who listened waded in, and he poured the river over their heads as a sign of a fresh start. That is why they called him John the Baptist, which means John, the one who baptizes.

People came from Jerusalem and all along the Jordan: soldiers, tax collectors, farmers. They all asked the same question.

— Then what should we do?

— Whoever has two tunics should share with the one who has none — John would answer. — And whoever has food should do the same.

Some began to suspect that he himself was the promised Messiah, and John never let that mistake grow.

— I baptize you with water — he said. — But someone far greater than I am is coming after me, and I am not worthy even to untie the straps of his sandals.

The Most Important Day

One of those mornings, Jesus came from Galilee and stood in line like everyone else. When his turn came, John recognized his cousin and stepped back, embarrassed.

— I am the one who needs to be baptized by you, and you come to me?

— Let it be so for now — Jesus answered calmly. — It is right that everything just should be done.

So John baptized him in the river. The moment Jesus came up out of the water, the sky opened, the Spirit of God came down like a dove, and a voice from above said that this was his beloved Son.

As time passed, John's own disciples began following Jesus, and someone complained that he was being left alone. John was not troubled, because he had always known what he came for.

— He must become greater — he said — and I must become less.

The Truth in Front of a King

The ruler of that land was a king named Herod, and everybody knew he had done something wrong: he had taken his own brother's wife. Nobody said a word, because contradicting a king was dangerous. John said it. He told Herod plainly that a king must obey God's law like anyone else.

Herod was furious and had John shut in a cell inside his fortress. Deep down, though, the king had a frightened sort of respect for that thin man in the camel-hair tunic. Sometimes he sent for him just to listen, and came away confused, with no courage to change his life or free the prisoner.

John never took back a single word. He could have kept quiet and walked out free, but he went on telling the truth, and because of it Herod had him put to death there in the prison. That is how it happened: a good man died because he would not stay silent about what was right. His disciples carried the body away with great care, buried it, and went to tell Jesus, who had already said of his cousin that among all those born of women, none was greater than John the Baptist.

The June Bonfires

Almost every saint is remembered on the day he died, because that is the day he reached heaven. With John the Baptist the Church did it differently and celebrates his birth, on the twenty-fourth of June. The reckoning is simple: the gospel says Elizabeth was in her sixth month when the angel visited Mary, so John's birthday falls six months before Christmas.

Because of that date, June in Brazil smells of bonfires and cornmeal cake. There is an old tradition among country people, not written in the Bible and handed down from grandmother to granddaughter, that Elizabeth arranged with Mary to light a fire on the hilltop to announce that the boy had been born. Legend or not, when you see flames climbing into a June night, remember the boy from the desert who spent his life pointing at another Light.