“Are You the One?” – Dec 12, 2010
December 12, 2010
Scripture: Matthew 11: 2-10
When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”
As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’
Sermon: Are You the One?
by Rev. Doreen Oughton
Our reading this morning opens with John the Baptist in prison. Now earlier in the Gospel of Matthew, way back in chapter three, John was zealously performing the role for which he’d been ordained, to prepare the way for the Messiah. He and his followers set up by the banks of the Jordan and called out with passion to people to repent. He called them to be washed of their sins in a baptism, but didn’t let their motives go unchallenged, calling some vipers and warning them of the one who was coming who would baptize them with fire. Not just water from the river to wash their sins, but burning fire to purify their souls. He talked about the winnowing fork that would separate the wheat from the chaff, and the ax laying ready to cut down any tree not bearing good fruit. And he recognized Jesus immediately when he came to John to be baptized, recognized him as the one for whom he was preparing the way. The gospel doesn’t tell us how he knew. Had he spent time with Jesus as they were growing up, their mother’s being related and Jesus and John less than a year apart in age? Had his mother Elizabeth told him the story over and over again how he lept in her womb when Mary visited just after conceiving Jesus? Or was their just an aura about Jesus, or the voice of the Spirit whispering to John, “this is the One”?
And though John recognized Jesus way back in chapter three, and reluctantly baptized him, John didn’t join Jesus in his ministry, didn’t become a disciple. He had his own followers, people who thought he might be Elijah or a prophet. But by all gospel accounts, John was clear about who he was, and about his mission – to prepare the way for the Lord. I would love to know more of the story of what went on between Jesus and John the Baptist. Did John push Jesus to form a plan, with John going on ahead and prepare the way? Did Jesus resist this idea, wanting instead to go where the Spirit led him? Did John talk to Jesus about the winnowing fork, and urge him to get busy separating the wheat from the chaff, the good from the bad, the fruitless trees from the fruitful ones? John had been proclaiming that the One was coming, and then there he was, right before John, asking to be baptized. Then what? They just pass on by each other? John moving on with his mission to make straight the paths for him by getting people to repent.
Perhaps John had some ideas about where those paths should lead, because next thing we know John is in prison because he was trying to get King Herod to repent. I’m guessing John thought Jesus’s path shouldn’t meander among the lowly – the prostitutes and tax collectors, not even the Pharisees and scribes. Perhaps he had the idea that the kingdom of heaven would best enter in through the palaces of the kingdoms of earth, once they were cleaned up.
But here John sits, in prison. In ancient times, prisons did not provide food or other necessities to inhabitants. Prisoners were entirely dependent on family or others to provide for them. Without care, they would starve to death. Anyway, John had plenty of followers who would have brought provisions as well as news about what was going on. I’m sure John was keen to hear about what Jesus was up to. Of course I had to check what Jesus had been doing just before John’s question came up. Had he been dining with the religious authorities? With sinners? Turning water into wine? What was it that got John questioning whether Jesus was really the one?
It’s hard to say for sure what it was that caused John concern. All of chapter ten was about Jesus summoning his twelve disciples and giving them instructions for their mission work. He tells them to go out and cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons. He tells them to take nothing with them, to minister to those who welcome them, and leave behind any who do not welcome them. Shake the dust from your feet, he tells them, and don’t worry about it because they will get theirs. He warns the disciples that it won’t be easy, that there will be betrayal and floggings and persecutions of all sorts. And he assures them that God is with them, that they are of immense value to the Father, and will be acknowledged in heaven, no matter what happens on earth.
I was surprised by this. I was all ready to contrast John’s expectations of baptism by a purifying fire, the chopping down of fruitless trees, the burning of the chaff in an unquenchable fire – with Jesus’ message of healing, forgiveness and love. I’d hoped to find the celebratory, wine-drinking, social dining friend to so many. But Jesus seems pretty intense at this point in Matthew’s gospel. And I find myself asking along with John, are you the one, Jesus? He says right there in chapter 10: “Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” He talks about sons against fathers, mothers against daughters, enemies within a household. “Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me,” Jesus says. Are you the one, Jesus? I don’t want the sword, I don’t want enemies in my household. I want peace. Are you the one, Jesus? I searched for an answer that would fit my longing, and found words that left me discomforted. I would have thought John would have been more excited by this message of conflict and persecution, but he also seems discomforted.
Maybe those stories didn’t get to John. Maybe his followers didn’t hear the instructions Jesus gave, but only saw the actions done by Jesus and the apostles, the healings and exorcisms, the preaching of the good news. Maybe he heard that Jesus continued to walk a path among the lowly rather than moving up to the palace. Maybe John recognized the actions of Jesus as the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, that the blind are given sight, the deaf, hearing, and so on. But there is another thing mentioned in Isaiah that Jesus has not done, and does not mention to John’s followers, and that is releasing the captives. Could this be at least part of what is getting John down? That Jesus hasn’t even tried to get him released? Isn’t John’s mission to prepare the way important enough to Jesus that he will ensure that it get done? Perhaps John is having a crisis of meaning and identity and purpose. Since he was in the womb, since he was conceived, he was ordained with this mission to prepare his people for the coming of the kingdom. And now he sits in prison, powerless, awaiting a terrible death that will be brought about by a dancing child, a bitter mother, and a drunken king. Where are those straight paths for the Lord? Was John’s disappointment in Jesus personal as well as political? Is this a Messiah John can live with and die for? Is it one that we can live with, one we are willing to pick up our cross and follow?
John’s question is our question, isn’t it? We light the Advent candles of hope and peace and joy, even while all around us we see despair and conflict and sorrow. And haven’t we all spent time in a prison of one sort or another, a place we never thought God or Jesus would let us land in, let alone stay in. Haven’t our loved ones died despite our most earnest prayers? Haven’t we been kicked to the curb by the powers that be, by economic forces, by bad luck, by heartless or selfish people? Haven’t we been betrayed, falsely accused, and taken advantage of? Where was Jesus then? Where was that winnowing fork that would have sorted out us good wheat from that bad chaff? Where are those straight paths? Is he the one? Is he?
Martin Luther said, “We pray, ‘Let your kingdom come.’ God’s kingdom comes on its own without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come to us.” How we long for it to come to us in healing, in wholeness, in a way we can understand. How do we make sense of Jesus’ plan which did not include preventing John’s death, nor even preventing his own death? How do we invest ourselves wholly and faithfully in the hope and peace and joy and love symbolized in these candles? I tell you, it is not really that hard. It does require vision, it does require that we let go of some of our personal and political expectations of Jesus. But if we take down our blinders and open our ears, we will see anew, we will hear transforming words, we will walk straight paths, not paths that lead to palaces, but paths that expand our world and connect us in new ways. There are miracles of healing and relief from suffering all around us. We see it when someone who was down and out and finally accepted help reaches out to pay it forward to another in need. We see it when someone who suffered a terrible loss reaches a new level of compassion for others to ease their pain. We see it when people who recognize the blessings they have extend themselves and share their hospitality, hearts and resources with those who have less. To me these things are symbols of hope and peace and joy and love.
But back to John. He may have been having a crisis, wondering whether he’d been mistaken, wondering if his mission meant anything to Jesus. But Jesus, even after John’s followers had left, lifted up John’s work. He called him a prophet and more, the greatest of all born to women. I hope that John’s eyes and ears were opened by Jesus’ response to his question. I hope that his doubts were put to rest, and that he could let himself believe in Jesus, in his message and his method. Then again, maybe his doubt are sacred, and his questions holy.
We all know that Advent is the season of preparation and of waiting. There are scripture passages where Jesus tells us to be ready, to stay awake and alert, to keep watch. And since we prepare and keep watch each year, we might think we know what we are looking for, what we are preparing for. But do we? I was intrigued by the questions raised by Lutheran minister and blogger Nadia Bolz-Weber who says, “Maybe being awake and alert and expectant has nothing to do with knowing and certainty, and has a lot to do with being in a state of un-knowing — of having a beginner’s mind. Maybe we use our knowingness — our certainty that we’re right — as a sort of loss-prevention program — a system by which we actually protect ourselves from the unknown and the unexpected. That is to say, maybe it isn’t certainty at all, but a spiritual not-knowing that is what “being ready for Jesus” looks like. And maybe that’s a little scary.”
She goes on, “Because here’s the thing: Like the owner of a house, knowing what to look for — as a way of avoiding being robbed — is only advantageous if we assume being robbed is a bad thing. Perhaps having an un-knowing beginner brain allows us to be taken unaware by the grace of God … the grace of God which is like a thief in the night. When we actually don’t know what to look for, everything that happens to us is the unexpected. Perhaps the good news here is that Jesus has been staking the joint, and there will be a break-in.” What she is saying is that God is not interested in our loss-prevention programs, in our being skillful at holding on to what we know, not interest in our efforts to bend the world and to bend Christ to the shape we feel most comfortable with, but instead wants to save us from ourselves and our culture and even our certainties about the story itself. She suggests we make Advent lists, like Christmas wish lists only that list the things we hope Christ will take from us. Maybe he could break in and take some of the ridiculous amounts of stuff we’ve accumulated, or our tendency to eat compulsively, maybe steal away our self-loathing, our insecurities, our self-pity or our love of money.
John the Baptist sitting in prison was robbed by Jesus who, instead of fighting for his release, instead of winnowing out the good from the bad, healed the lame, gave sight to the blind, raised the dead and brought good news to the poor. I was robbed by Jesus when I went looking for the open-hearted, warm and cuddly prince of peace in the scripture and found instead a man who understood conflict was inherent in his ministry. It’s discomforting, yes, but it is also a reminder to adopt that beginner’s mind. Can you stand for Jesus to do something unexpected? Can you listen to our sacred story this Advent in a new way? Hold that question of John’s, make it your own. Is Jesus the one? Is he? And as you ponder it, can you tune out the noise of cultural Christmas, can you let go of your own assumptions and expectations about what you think the Christmas story means? Can we listen together with beginner’s ears — with ears that listen for Christ’s surprising grace? May it be so.
