You Decide – sermon on December 11, 2016
Matthew 11: 2-11 John the Baptist, who was in prison, heard about all the things the Messiah was doing. So he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the Messiah we’ve been expecting, or should we keep looking for someone else?” Jesus told them, “Go back to John and tell him what you have heard and seen – the blind see, the lame walk, those with leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, and the Good News is being preached to the poor.” And he added, “God blesses those who do not fall away because of me.” As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began talking about him to the crowds. “What kind of man did you go into the wilderness to see? Was he a weak reed, swayed by every breath of wind? Or were you expecting to see a man dressed in expensive clothes? No, people with expensive clothes live in palaces. Were you looking for a prophet? Yes, and he is more than a prophet. John is the man to whom the Scriptures refer when they say, ‘Look, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, and he will prepare your way before you.’ I tell you the truth, of all who have ever lived, none is greater than John the Baptist. Yet even the least person in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he is!”
Sermon: You Decide by Rev. Doreen Oughton
Today we lit the candle of joy; we had a beautiful reading from Isaiah – about a time of redemption, when flowers will spring up on wastelands, when the lame will leap like deer, when those who have been mute will sing with joy. And then we get this gospel passage. John the Baptist is in prison. No safe passage for him on that Highway of Holiness. Some time has passed since he showed up at the Jordan river, baptizing people with water for repentance, and calling out the Sadducees and Pharisees for their hypocrisy. His ax-wielding days are past. And now he is wondering if the great one who was to come after him really will use that winnowing fork to clean the threshing floor. How could it have come to this, he wonders. Could he have been wrong? His whole life’s purpose was to prepare the way for the One who would usher in God’s kindom, and still the corrupt King Herod has the power to lock him up for telling the righteous truth. And Rome still has its boot on the back of the Israelites. And the so-called religious leaders still live it up in their palaces and soft robes. John is having a crisis of faith.
It’s not the story we like to hear, or tell – that falling away of faith; at least that’s true for me. I like to think that as people strive to discern their purpose, to live it out, to offer themselves up to God, that they will grow in faith, that they will feel closer to God, blessed even. But this man who leapt in his mother’s womb at the presence of the virgin mother-to-be; who saw the heavens open and the spirit of God descend like a dove upon Jesus, this man is wondering. Doubt has replaced certainty; hesitation has replaced boldness. The heavenly light is not shining in that dark jail cell.
So, John asks his followers to ask Jesus if he had it wrong. Are you the one, or should we be looking for someone else? What is Jesus’ reply? He doesn’t say yes, and he doesn’t say no. He tells his followers to tell John what they have heard and seen. If you were John, would you be reassured by this? Is Jesus concerned with John’s state of mind? He adds that bit about God blessing those who do not fall away because of him. Some translations say the blessing is for those who take no offense at Jesus. So perhaps Jesus is concerned that John has taken offense, has fallen away because Jesus is not what he expected the Messiah to be. I love the words of Debie Thomas in her reflection on this passage: “Jesus says: go back to John and tell him your stories. Tell him my stories. Tell him what your eyes have seen and your ears have heard. Tell him what only the stories – quiet as they are, scattered as they are, questionable as they are – will reveal. Why? Because who I am is not a pronouncement: not a sermon, a slogan, or a billboard. Who I am is far more elusive, mysterious, and Other than you have yet imagined.”
John had got it wrong in an important way. He wasn’t wrong about the identity of the Messiah. He wasn’t wrong in proclaiming the greatness of this One who came after him. But he was wrong in his thinking about how the kindom would come. Unfortunately, the liberation of Christ did not come into that prison cell, freeing John to carry on in his mission. No, John died there – in a gruesome manner – his head a party favor for a vengeful queen. Is there room for that story as part of the good news?
It’s an important question for us, as we continue to struggle with what it means to see so much suffering and injustice continue today. What does it mean to say the kindom has come and is coming after an election year like the one we had? Isn’t it still the case that the multinational banks, fossil energy companies and weapons manufacturers get subsidies, tax cuts, loopholes, political access and nothing more than slaps on the wrist for wrongdoing, while indigenous people, single parents, the disabled, elderly, unemployed get austerity, services cut, grievances ignored, working conditions eroded, civil liberties constricted, living spaces polluted, their struggles and small escapes harshly criminalized?
As Jesus sends John’s disciples back to tell their stories, he continues talking about him to his own disciples. He says that John is to be honored for the way he lived out his purpose. He was strong – no reed blowing in the winds of public opinion. Money and luxury had no power over him. He was truly a prophet. And yet, Jesus continues, even the least in the kindom of heaven is greater than John. I wonder if that’s because of the way John got it wrong. John talked about Jesus coming with an ax, a winnowing fork, clearing the threshing floor, burning up the chaff. John saw violence as the solution to violence. But Jesus did not intend to force the coming of the kindom. He would not lead a revolt against Rome, would not slash and burn to kingdom come. Instead, he would suffer the violence against him. Talk about a mystery! In addition to healing and teaching and casting out demons, he would usher in the kindom by dying on the cross. As Andrew Prior puts it, “God’s culture – the kingdom of heaven – intentionally suffers the violence of the human culture in order to expose it as violence.” And if John is looking for Jesus and his followers to swarm the prison and beat up the guards to get him out, he is just going along with the accepted violence of human ways. John’s suffering in prison is actually the kindom coming – the kindom experiencing the violence without retaliation so that it can be exposed.
Now this is a hard thing to explain to a man in prison. It is a hard thing to explain to a group of busy, hard-working parishioners on a Sunday morning. But the challenge is there. In this passage, Jesus doesn’t claim to be the one John was expecting. He is leaving it for John to decide, and he is leaving it to us to decide. Is this the type of Savior we can turn our lives over to – someone who asks us to live as he did, as John the Baptist did? Are we willing to bear our share of violence against God’s kindom without violent retaliation? After all, many of us have stories like John’s – times in our lives, experiences we’ve had that seem at odds to what we think Godly living ought to be. The prison bars that hold us don’t always give way. Our doubts don’t always resolve themselves. Justice doesn’t always arrive in time. Questions don’t always receive the answers we hunger for. Yes, some stories are terrible, period. They break hearts and end badly. People flail and people die, and this, too, is what the life of faith looks like. Our faith asks us to not to take offense, to stay with it.
Can we bear it without getting caught up in the violence – whether physical, mental or spiritual? Not passively, not like a doormat, but bear it to expose it, to stand against it, to show how far our worldly way of carrying on is from the heavenly culture? Or are you looking for soft robes in the royal palaces of the status quo?
I don’t know what taking a holy stand against worldly violence would look like for any particular person. We can be guided by the holy spirit to identify the places of injustice and harshness in the world that touch our own hearts – maybe environmental issues, or economic justice, or racism, LGBTQ rights, or how prisoners are treated. But a holy stand is a place that is not about our own comfort and ease as individuals. It is not a holy stand to work for the rich and powerful to keep more money and power. It is not a holy stand to work to restrict the rights of people based on their race, religion, or sexual orientation. It is not a holy stand to sacrifice a stable climate for the short-term profits of a small number of shareholders.
Andrew Prior put it thus: “Choosing to be in the place of the victim, choosing to suffer for the kingdom of heaven, and adopting the extremism of Jesus, opens our eyes to the nature of the world. It shows us the extreme differences between the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of palaces. It will allow us to see if our Christmas celebrations and our readings of the Nativity are rapt with the tinsel trinkets of tyranny, or wrapped in the blessings of Christ.” So I ask you, is Jesus the Messiah you are waiting for, or will you look for another?
