What Are You Waiting For?

Advent 3

Isaiah 35:1-10

Mathew 11:2-10

During Advent, we read Scripture texts that highlight the task of waiting.  Rather than jumping straight to Bible passages and themes of celebration and joy at the beginning of December, we take up the task of waiting.  Today’s readings prompt us to reflect on this task of waiting for one more week, before we turn squarely to unbridled celebration next week. 

So let me ask:  What are you waiting for?  What is it you’re expecting?  What do you think is going to happen?  When you squint and look towards the future with hope, what is it you see?

This practice of waiting and watching puts us in company with the characters in the gospels who are waiting for the arrival of God’s promised Messiah.  He’s the One who will put things right, straighten what’s crooked.

The prophet John – often referred to as John the Baptist, because he baptized Jesus in the Jordan river – was the last of the great prophets of Israel.  Dozens of ancient prophets had foretold that God would visit his people in the figure of Messiah (Hebrew), or Christ (Greek), meaning “anointed one.” 

And John was the last and greatest of these prophets, because he announced that the arrival of God’s new kingdom is happening NOW in the life of Jesus from Nazareth.  John, as a prophet, was waiting and watching.  And what he was waiting for . . . happened!

The crowds living in Galilee were waiting and watching.  That’s why they responded enthusiastically to John’s prophetic message.  He was an odd figure, dressing in rough clothing made of camel-hair, preaching a message of last-minute, do-it-right-now repentance, forgiveness, and baptism. 

And the crowds responded to John because they too were waiting for God’s promises to take shape in their own lives.  In our reading today, Jesus questions the crowds about their waiting.  What are you waiting for? He asks them.  What kind of messenger did you expect in John? 

We too, are waiting and watching for God to arrive in our lives.  We’re hoping for God to visit us in a way that solves our problems, soothes our fears, and invites us forward into a life that is meaningful and powerful.  So Jesus, are you the arriving Messiah that we should follow?

This is the very question John asks of Jesus.  And it should surprise us that John still doesn’t know the answer.  Shouldn’t John have figured things out by now.  A year or so into Jesus’ public ministry, John still has to ask whether Jesus is the Messiah they have been waiting for, or whether they should look for someone else!  Why is he not sure?  Why the confusion?

In Luke’s gospel, we are told that John’s mother Elizabeth, and Jesus’ mother Mary, were cousins.  So that makes John and Jesus third cousins.  And it means that John and Jesus grew up together as part of an extended family of religiously observant Jews in the same region.

Now Matthew doesn’t include that story.  But Matthew does include the scene of Jesus’ baptism, the very beginning of his public ministry.  And it was John who baptized Jesus in the Jordan River.  It was John who pointed to Jesus and said to the crowds, “This is the one coming after me, who is greater than me, and I am not even fit to untie his sandals.  I’ve baptized you with water, but this one will baptize you with the Spirit and fire.” (3:11).

Matthew suggests two reasons for John’s question.  Did you notice them in our reading?

First, John was in prison.

His fiery prophetic preaching about the urgent need for repentance didn’t sit well with the Roman governor Herod and some other powerful people.  And so John was arrested and put in prison.  And John is trying to square the good news of God’s arriving kingdom with the fact that he’s in prison for announcing it. 

If God’s coming kingdom is good news, why have the powerful been able to silence and imprison me, John is thinking.  This doesn’t look like anything I’d call freedom, or salvation, or good news.  We are reminded of Nelson Mandela, jailed 27 years for fighting for basic equality for black South Africans.

Second, John had heard from prison what Jesus was doing.  And it created some confusion for John and his followers.  Jesus wasn’t really playing the role of Messiah very well.  He didn’t appear very kingly or powerful.  He was critical of the religious and the wealthy and spent time walking through little Galilean villages, spending time with the poor.  John had expected more action and more results in powerful places like Jerusalem.

So because John is languishing in prison, and because he’s confused by the kind of role Jesus is playing, he asks a straightforward question:  Are you the Messiah we’ve been waiting for, or is there someone else? 

What John wanted was clarity.  He wanted Jesus to say, “You got it – it’s me!”.  OR, he wanted Jesus to say, “Nope, not me.  Actually you want Rabbi Gittelson at the synagogue two villages over.”

What John got instead of an answer was an invitation to become Jesus’ disciple, by making up his own mind.  Jesus refuses to answer direct questions that aim to bring us a clarity that would enable us to relax.  He answers in a way that says to John and to all of us:  No one else can tell you what to believe.  You will have to determine for yourself what course you will take.

Jesus calls us to follow him, calls us to be his disciples.  And he will walk with us, but he will not walk for us. 

Now the answer that Jesus gives to John’s question works on two levels:

First, he points us to the experience of various kinds of healing.  His primary ministry was – and is - a ministry of healing.  He did not heal everyone.  But in some villages, on some occasions, he chose to perform dramatic healings.  And the stories of those powerful healings had already begun to circulate among the people.  And Jesus points to these healings as the primary evidence for deciding whether we want to become his followers.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter already know this, but after our bedtime prayers this week, Remy said, “Dad, we can’t really know for sure whether God exists.”  And I said, “You’re right.  It’s more like belief or trust.”  And then he added, “And the Bible might be a folktale.”  And I said, “You’re right, some of the Bible sounds that way.” 

As I walked back downstairs, I had two thoughts.  First, heaven help all preachers’ kids, especially mine!  But second, why is it that I want this life of following Jesus Christ for myself and for my family, neighbors, and friends?  Why have I chosen this path?  What makes it persuasive to me?

It’s pretty simple.  I have witnessed Christ’s healing power in others, and have experienced it in myself.  I have been in relationship with people whose lives have burned brightly with the light of Christ.  I have watched people faithfully serve and help others in quiet, humble ways, over the course of many years, at great cost to themselves.  And rather than complaining, they appear filled with joy and energy to keep going.  I have known people who have borne heavy grief and loss and hardship and yet have found a way to keep their hearts soft and open, and their trust in God steadfast.    

And I have to testify – that I myself have been healed and transformed by a power larger and more beautiful and mysterious than any I’ve ever experienced.  As a human being, I am capable of being bent into an unlovely shape by all kinds of evil forces: anger, indifference, despair, lust, greed, and self-centeredness.  But I have experienced Christ’s power pulling me through all that into something better. 

That’s why I believe all this.  That’s why I’m here.  What about you?

I said Jesus’ answer works on two levels, here’s the Second: Jesus’ answer to John calls our attention to the rich language of Scripture itself.  Jesus answers with language from the prophet Isaiah: beautiful imagery of a desert blooming, land once parched and harsh will become soft, fertile, and blooming green.  Those feeble, weak and afraid are to hear, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come.”  The blind, the deaf, and the lame are being healed.  The poor receive good news.  And there will be a wide, straight highway for God’s people to walk along – out of exile, all the way back home.  And along the way they will sing with joy and gladness. 

I don’t think it’s all that difficult to imagine Isaiah’s vision laid right on top of the communities, neighborhoods, and streets where we live.  By some measures, the place where we live, and the people who dwell here, are distressed.  Isaiah’s imagery of parched desert is appropriate.  The research compiled by the director of Project 17 and presented at Rotary last week was difficult to hear.  By almost all measures, Southeast Kansas is a region in crisis.  Our well-being across categories like health and wellness, educational achievement, and economic conditions are the lowest in the state.  Illegal drug use and the abuse and neglect of children are at dangerously high levels in our region.

But Jesus promises good news to the poor, the least, those at the bottom of the list.  He offers us Isaiah’s vision of a barren desert that begins to flourish and bloom.  And he lays before us a highway out of our exile, a road back home.

If you know where to look, you can already see signs of this healing.  There are already little flowers blooming in the desert. 

There are people organized to care for children who live in troubled homes. 

There are people committed to helping our veterans receive the care they need. 

There are people who give up their time every week to spend time with grade-school, middle and high school young people. 

There are people praying faithfully for each other every day.

There are people providing food for others.

There are people who drive for others who can’t drive, bringing them to church and taking them to their appointments. 

There are people hosting a meal for college kids who can’t travel back home. 

There are people buying presents for children from families who don’t have any extra money. 

There are people putting new roofs on houses. 

There are people raking leaves in their neighbors’ yards. 

There are people spending less on themselves so they can be more generous. 

There are people encouraging others with hand written notes.

There are people making visits to spend time with those sick or in treatment. 

The signs are everywhere.  The desert is blooming.  People are walking back home on God’s highway.