Sermon preached at St Mary's, Primrose Hill by The Reverend Robert Atwell on the Nativity of St John the Baptist, Sunday 24 June 2007

'What's in a name?' Evidently quite a lot if we are to believe this morning's gospel with its account of the row over what should be the name of Elizabeth and Zechariah's new-born son. John was not a popular choice among their friends and relatives, but John it was to be. The choice represented a break with the past and heralded a new departure in this ancient priestly family. As their neighbours speculated, 'What will this child become?' (Luke 1.80).

I was glad to learn two weeks ago of the birth of Steve and Kate Reynolds' latest child, but puzzled by their choice of name: 3G. It didn't seem to be entirely attractive to my way of thinking. When I asked Steve what it meant, he said, 'Third Girl'. I am glad to say that 'Third Girl' also known as 'Third Ginger' has since transmogrified into Martha.

Over the 25years I have been a priest the names I have baptized children have changed. When I started off in the late 70s there were Waynes, Darrens and Darrells; and for the girls there were Karens, Traceys and the ever-popular Kylie.

But names go in and out of fashion, and in The Times last week I noted that the second most popular boy's name in England today is Mohammad. What happened to outstanding names like Robert? I want to ask. I have yet to be asked to baptize a child Mohammad, and although all things are possible, somehow I think that one unlikely.

Alan Bennett says that each generation needs to show that it is independent of the one that has gone before it, and changing the names of our children is one way we do it. At the old people's home in Weston-super-Mare where his mother spent the last years of her life, he recalls that the names of the other residents were Gladys, Ivy, Doris, Hilda, Violet, Wilfred and Muriel. But we shouldn't kid ourselves that we won't get old and end up there too. Coming away from the home one day he imagines the warden greeting a new resident: 'Welcome,' she says, 'You're our first Kevin.'

According to St Luke, the annunciation to Mary took place 'in the sixth month' (Luke 1.26) of the pregnancy of her cousin Elizabeth. So their two boys, John and Jesus, are taken to have been born six months apart. Christians celebrate the birthday of Jesus on 25 December and so, by a certain kind of logic, we celebrate the birthday of John the Baptist on 24 June.

But why a day's difference?

Of course, we have no idea when either child was born. In the early Christian centuries the celebration of the birth of Christ came to replace the pagan celebration of the winter solstice. The shortest day of the year sees the sun turn around and begin its ascent northwards. The festival of sol invictus, the unconquered sun, was replaced by Christians with the festival of the birth of sol iustitiae, the sun of justice, Christ the Lord.

It means also that the birthday of John the Baptist which we celebrate today coincides, more or less, with the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. In medieval England celebrations of St John's Night owe something to the natural instinct to mark these turning points in the earth's year. Older pagan celebrations were baptized by Christians, taken over and given new meaning. Already in the Bible the Jewish festivals are combined celebrations of the events of salvation history and the seasonal changes of the year, sowing and springtime and harvest.

What can we take from the fact that we celebrate John the Baptist's birth at midsummer?

At a time when the light in our part of the world is at its strongest and brightest we celebrate the birth of one who, in the words of St John's Gospel, 'was not himself the light but came as a witness to the light.' (John 1.8) Just as the intense light of dawn can be confused with that of sunset, it was not immediately clear two thousand years ago whether John might not be the light promised by God. Some of his followers and even some Jewish leaders wondered if John might be the Messiah.

The chief priests sent out spies from Jerusalem to find out what he was up to. 'Who are you?' they asked. Are you the messiah? Are you Elijah or one of the prophets? We want an answer.

John was always clear that there was someone greater coming after him, one of his own followers, one baptized by him and that this one is 'the true light who is coming into the world' (John 1.9). John is a 'herald' who announces the arrival of someone more important than himself and he points out Jesus to his disciples, recognising him as 'the lamb of God' (John 1.36). In all four gospels we see John making Jesus known, pointing him out to people and sending others to him. 'He must increase, and I must decrease,' as he said most memorably. You have to be a big person to be so self-effacing.

Jesus in his turn says that John the Baptist is the greatest of all human beings. There is no prophet greater than he. John is so totally given to his mission that he is called simply 'a voice', crying in the wilderness, calling God's people to repent, return and prepare for the coming of the Lord. He is not interested in himself - only in the God whom he proclaims. He and his message have fused.

Like all prophets in all ages John excites passion, both admiration and criticism. As we know, eventually he will be executed at the command of Herod, but before that we know that religious leaders campaigned against him, accusing him of being possessed by demons (Matthew 11.18). As well as being the voice of prophetic consolation, this new Elijah is a 'troubler of Israel' as much as he is her comforter.

John demanded not only that Gentiles be baptized, but that Jews be baptized too. Everyone, he said, is in need of spiritual cleansing and enlightenment to prepare for God's judgement. This was revolutionary talk, and it was why the word 'Baptist' got glued to his name as a sort of surname. 'What's in a name?' Quite a lot when it comes to this extraordinary man.

So what is the light that shines from him and why do we, along with Our Lord himself, honour him?

The light that shines from John the Baptist is the grace and holiness of God's people of the old covenant. Among all the just men and women who looked forward to the deliverance of Israel, John stands at the head. He straddles two epochs in the history of God's relationship with human beings because the preaching of the Christian gospel begins with the preaching of John the Baptist. When John appeared in the Judean wilderness, what St Paul calls, 'the fullness of time' (Galatians 4.4; Ephesians 1.10) had arrived.

From today on the days will shorten and the sun decline in the northern hemisphere. With the miserable weather we've been having lately, it feels summer has yet to arrive, and now we've reached its midway point. But it remains midsummer in God's relationship with his people. Winter is over and summer has come. Sin and death have been conquered by the one to whom John consistently pointed. Christ our Saviour is always with us, shining even in the darkness.

This is midsummer indeed, to see 'the light of glory of the knowledge of God in the face of Jesus Christ' (2 Cor. 4.5). The finger of John the Baptist points us always to him who is the Light that the darkness can never overcome (John 1.5).

So along with John let us decrease, and pray that Christ may increase in us until we ourselves our transformed from glory to glory. Then all our winters be past.