Matthew 11:2-11
Third Sunday Of Advent
Third Sunday Of Advent
December 15, 2013
My
dear friend, fellow clergy person and BFF, Ellen Brantley, holds a Blue
Christmas Service at her church each year.
She told me that only a handful of people attend. The ones who do are the ones who acknowledge
how much they need a service like this; a service that recognizes that the
holidays aren’t sweetness and light for everyone. Ellen said she wishes that more folks would
attend, even if the service doesn’t address their life or circumstances. It would be a sign of support and empathy for
those who need the service most.
I
imagine that there are a lot of people who want to be empathetic and supportive
of those that struggle at this time of year.
But I also suspect that doing that would force them to admit that they
also struggle at this time of year. This
season, from Thanksgiving to New Year’s, is supposed to be idyllic. We have an enormous amount of pressure on us
to be happy. This is the time of year
when we are supposed to be making memories, experiencing Norman Rockwell type
moments with extended family and friends gathered around a long table laden
with food. Christmas lights should
twinkle in the eyes of young children, while strains of Silent Night and Joy to
the World drift in from the carolers who are now at our door.
It’s
a lovely image, a lovely ideal, but it’s an ideal. Ideals are hard to live up to. But we feel pressured to try and think we’ve
failed if we don’t quite make it. We’re
supposed to be happy at this time of year, but more people turn to clergy and
counselors and doctors for help with depression at this time of year than any
other. That’s irony, isn’t it? The season when we are told in numerous ways
that we are supposed to be brimming with joy is also the time when depression
numbers skyrocket. We are under a great
deal of pressure to be happy, to reach for ideals, and even if the gap between
reality and those ideals doesn’t leave us depressed, it may leave us
disappointed.
Disappointed. My trusty Merriam-Webster dictionary defines
the word disappointed as “defeated in
expectation or hope.” Disappointed is
how we find John the Baptist in Matthew’s gospel. This is a strange continuation of the story
of John the Baptist. Just last week we
read about him proclaiming the Jesus was the One, the Messiah, the Savior the
people had been waiting for. He was
proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!”
But
this week it’s a different story. Some
months must have passed since John appeared out of the wilderness. Some time has passed since John baptized
Jesus in the River Jordan. And what has
changed? John is in jail. He’s in jail not for committing some legal
infraction, but because he spoke an uncomfortable truth to power, to Herod and
to his wife Herodias. A truth that they
did not want to hear. So that same
power, that same vehicle of oppression and tyranny has put John in jail.
Jail
at any time or in any context would not be a happy place to be. If the depiction of ancient jail cells in
movies is somewhat accurate, I would believe that John was not only in a small,
dark cell, but he would also be shackled to the wall with chains. The chains might have enough slack in them so
that he could move about as much as the space allowed, but that’s not saying
much.
So
there he is in jail with time to think.
I wonder if he didn’t share of the same expectations about the Messiah
as everyone else. Wasn’t the Messiah
supposed to overthrow Rome’s tyranny?
Wasn’t the Messiah supposed to end the oppression of the people and
stomp out the injustice they had endured for so long? Well if that’s what the Messiah was supposed
to do, it hadn’t happened yet. The proof
of that was the jail cell John waited in.
Up until his arrest he has been preaching that with the coming of Jesus
the in-breaking of God’s kingdom was upon them.
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven comes near. But now?
Has it all been a lie? What if he has been wrong this whole time? When he finally has the opportunity to talk
with his disciples, he sends them to Jesus with just one question. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to
wait for another? “
Are
you the one who is to come?
John
must have been disappointed; defeated in expectation or hope. Like all of us, he wants to know, at least a
little, that what he has been doing, what he has been preaching, the sacrifices
he has made and will make with his life, are worth it. They were done in service to God and to God’s
Messiah. So let’s make absolutely sure
that the one I’ve been proclaiming is the One.
Are
you the one who is to come?
It
may seem counter intuitive that this should be the chosen passage for the Third
Sunday in Advent. We shouldn’t be
dealing in disappointment or doubt at this stage of the game. We’re too close. Christmas is almost upon us. Perhaps, though, addressing our
disappointments is exactly what we need to do on this Third Sunday. The closer we move toward Christmas, the
recognition of the incarnation of the Word, of Love, of God in our frail and
broken midst, the more we look around and see how far we are from peace and
goodwill to all. The angels tell the
shepherds to fear not. But reasons for
fear are everywhere. The world’s tears
have yet to be dried. Death still
stings. Hatred and ignorance feeds the
maw of violence. The world is still
broken. In the face of all that how can
we not feel some disappointment that our hopes for peace and justice and
goodwill for everybody have yet to be realized?
Even as we are told by countless messengers that we should be happy and
joyful, it’s hard not to be a little disappointed, at least some of the time.
Jesus’
answer to John doesn’t help the situation either, for John or for us. Jesus does not give a definitive answer. He doesn’t come right out and say, “Okay,
John, yes I am the Messiah. I just don’t
like to spread that info around too much, but I am the One. I have arrived.”
Jesus
says nothing even close to that. Instead
he tells John’s disciples to go and tell John what they observe, what they 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.”
Jesus
won’t declare that he is the Messiah, the one they’ve been waiting for. This is consistent throughout the
gospels. Instead he points to what is
happening. He points to the signs all
around that declare the kingdom of heaven is indeed upon them. He points to the signs of the kingdom of God
just as John pointed to him as the incarnation of God’s salvation.
The
blind see. The lame walk. The lepers are cleansed. The deaf hear. The dead are raised. The poor receive good news. The kingdom is upon us.
This
may serve as a disappointing answer, because like John, we want absolute
clarity. Yet truthfully isn’t this the same
answer we also receive? Except for those
lucky people who see Jesus’s face in a potato chip, we don’t get definitive
answers to the why’s of our world. God’s
voice doesn’t boom from the heavens. We
don’t get answers to the why’s very often.
Why do bad things happen? Why
does tragedy occur? Why do people hate
and hurt? The answers to the why’s
aren’t forthcoming. But in the midst of
all that is broken, we also see what is being healed. We also see that good is being done, peace is
being made, good will is being shared.
And every time we see that, every time we see a gesture of love, an act
of kindness, an offering of peace, we are reminded that the kingdom of heaven
is upon us. May our disappointment, our
defeated expectations move once more into renewed hope. The one we have been waiting for has come and
will come again. God is in our
midst. Let all God’s children say,
“Alleluia! Amen.”
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