He wouldn’t wear a suit. He wouldn’t bring a slideshow or offer a sermon series titled "Winning at Life." He wouldn’t open with a joke or ease into his message. No, John would enter from the wilderness—his presence raw, his voice untrained by religion, his spirit trained by fire. A good possibility he would be a Vietnam vet that has experienced both war and rejection by his country. He would not look like what the church has been conditioned to accept. He wouldn’t be interested in your guest speaker form, your service flow, or your brand identity. He wouldn't need it.
He would come burning.
Not in literal camel’s hair, no. That was the symbol of his time—a prophetic rebuke to religious comfort and polished hierarchy. Today, his camel’s hair might look like a plain t-shirt and dusty jeans, but his heart would wear the same mantle: the spirit and power of Elijah (Luke 1:17). He would come consecrated, not celebrated; despised, not platformed. And still, he would come.
He wouldn’t walk in barefoot to make a scene, but he would walk in set apart. Unbound by the system. Undistracted by praise. Unseduced by fame. His bare feet would not symbolize poverty, but prophetic purity. He would walk without pretense, without image management, without performance. He would not speak with flattering words but with a sword in his mouth.
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” —Matthew 3:2
That wouldn’t be an invitation. It would be a war cry. A divine disruption. A shaking in the room. And the ones who were comfortable in compromise would feel their teeth grind at the sound.
This man wouldn't stroke egos. He'd strike them.
He Would Speak With Fire
John would not sit down with the pastoral team to discuss church growth strategy. He’d stand up in the back row and cry out before the second song was finished.
He would say things like:
“This is not revival. This is religious theater.”
“You’ve replaced the altar with a stage.”
“You pray for fire but run from repentance.”
“The King is coming—and He’s not coming for your brand. He’s coming for your heart.”
He wouldn’t whisper. He would roar. Because his words wouldn’t come from preference—they would come from the furnace.
“Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” —Matthew 3:10
John would not preach what was popular. He would preach what was eternal. He wouldn’t be edgy. He would be holy. He would not care if you shouted or squirmed—only if you turned.
“Bear fruit in keeping with repentance.” —Matthew 3:8
He Would Confront, Not Entertain
John would step into churches packed with light shows and fog machines and say:
“These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” —Matthew 15:8
He would look at worship teams seeking applause, pastors quoting TED talks, and altar calls that cost nothing, and he would grieve. Then he would thunder.
He would cry:
“The time has come for judgment to begin at the house of God!” —1 Peter 4:17
He would not avoid sin. He would expose it.
He would name sexual immorality in the pulpit.
He would call out manipulation in leadership.
He would tear down false teaching and fake humility.
“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness but rather expose them.” —Ephesians 5:11
And for that, the Church would hate him.
He Would Be Labeled Toxic
People would say he wasn’t loving because he was too harsh, that he lacked grace. But they wouldn’t understand he burned because he loved. He rebuked because he feared God more than man. He trembled for the Bride, not because she had enemies, but because she had made peace with them.
“You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God?” —James 4:4
If he cried in the back row, the ushers would escort him out. If he preached in the streets, the believers would walk past. He wouldn’t be verified. He wouldn’t be followed. He would be sent.
“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.” —John 1:6
He Would Confront Leaders and Kings
John never flinched before Herod. He did not fear the palace. He didn’t shrink before power. He called sin what it was.
“It is not lawful for you to have her.” —Mark 6:18
He lost his head for it. And today, he’d lose his invitation.
He would say to preachers:
Stop selling the gospel.
Stop performing for likes.
Stop using grace to cover greed.
“For certain people have crept in unnoticed... ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God into a license for immorality.” —Jude 1:4
He Would Burn With One Message, “A ONE NOTE SONG”
Not "live your dreams." Not "manifest your breakthrough." Just one truth:
“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” —John 1:29
He must increase. I must decrease. That was his anthem (John 3:30). No selfies. No self-promotion. Just Jesus. Only Jesus. Always Jesus.
And those who were hungry would find him. In the wilderness. Outside the gates. Far from the noise.
Because that’s where true fire still falls.
“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.” —Malachi 4:5
Would You Let Him Speak? More importantly, would you hear what the Lord was speaking through Him?
If John the Baptist walked into your church next Sunday, would you hear him? Would you hand him a microphone? Or would you hand him the door? Emotionally? In other words, you would be a polite Christian and pretend to accept him, but your heart, spirit, and mind would be glad if he leaves.
Would your flesh squirm, or would your spirit awaken?
Because until we receive the voice in the wilderness, we are not ready to receive the One coming in glory.
The axe is already at the root. The winnowing fork is in His hand. And the voice is crying again:
Prepare the way of the Lord.