When John the Baptist heard in prison of the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” Jesus said to them in reply, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.” (Matthew 11.2-6)
For a second time during this season of Advent, we meet up with John the Baptist, the one who helps us to “prepare the way of the Lord.” However, this time we meet him in a different locale. As you may recall, last week he stood on the banks of the Jordan, addressing his listeners, assuring them that the day of the Lord was coming.
Like so many others in Judea, he eagerly anticipated the coming of the Messiah, someone anointed by the Most High God, as were the kings of old, to deliver the people from bondage and to restore the Kingdom of Israel to its old glory, a king the likes of the almost mythic David who slew a giant and who ruled Israel as a mighty warrior and as a revered king.
And, while preaching that message to the people along the banks of the Jordan, a Galilean named Jesus, a rabbi, came to the area and, like so many others, presented himself for baptism in the Jordan, initiating his own response to fulfill the destiny entrusted to him by his heavenly Father. Called “my beloved son” by a voice from the heavens, Rabbi Jesus stepped out of the waters of the Jordan, drenched and destined, ready to assume his role in salvation history.
The evangelist Matthew had John the Baptist disappear soon after, his place on the stage replaced by the Galilean preacher, the Jordan not only a geographical marker, but a break between the old and the new, between the time of the promise and the fulfillment of the promise. John had done his duty and now Rabbi Jesus was to do his duty, both men ordained by God to do a specific task, John’s near completion, Jesus’ awaiting completion on the cross.
However, Matthew brings John back onto the stage for a last time about midway through his gospel, this time nowhere near the Jordan, but instead rotting in a prison cell in Herod’s palace, no longer preaching to the people, but awaiting his execution at the hands of the diabolical Herodias, Herod’s wife, and the soldier ordered by Herod to severe John’s head from his body, served on a silver platter before Herod and his guests.
So why does Matthew invoke the presence of the Baptist again, here at the end of his life, as he awaits execution for no crime except ruffling the feathers of the peacock on the throne? The reason is simple. It is found in the question that John asks two of his followers to put before the Galilean who spends his days doing the work commissioned to him by the Most High God, the One whom he calls his Father.
“Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” That is the question that John wants answered, sending his disciples to Rabbi Jesus, wanting them to return to him with the answer that the Galilean gives. It is, in a real sense, a deathbed wish, the desire for an answer to this troubling question before John meets his fate.
Having met John early in the gospel as he preached the imminent coming of the Messiah, we may wonder why here, as he stares death in the face, he seems unsure of the coming of the Messiah, at least in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, his question exposing some doubt, captured clearly in the second part of his question, “Or should we look for another?”
The first thing to be said is that John has a vested interest in the answer, beyond that of the ordinary Jew who looked with longing for the arrival of the Messiah, a hero-figure who would right the wrongs done to the Jewish people over the centuries and who would restore independence to Israel, no longer the vassal of foreign adversaries, all of whom would be brought low by the mighty sword of the Messiah.
After all, it was John who claimed to see the coming of the Messiah and who had promised the people that the one who was soon to come after him would be his superior, so much so that he–John–would be unworthy even to loosen the strap of the sandal that the awaited Messiah wore. And, as Matthew made clear, that person was Jesus of Nazareth, claimed by God as his beloved there at the Jordan.
So, why the doubts now on the part of John? What in the time since that shared moment at the Jordan had made John begin to question whether or not Rabbi Jesus was the one promised through the ages? Again, putting ourselves in John’s shoes–not a comfortable place, for sure, considering he is in the recesses of Herod’s palace, his executioner already biting at the bit to lob off his head–we can see the urgency of the concern that John has.
John had predicted the coming of the Messiah but he saw no sign of the Messiah in the Galilean, no armies being formed, no consolidating of power, no stockpiling of weapons. If Jesus was the Messiah, why wasn’t he doing what the Messiah was supposed to do? This is the question behind the question that John asks, the one that makes him wonder if he had spoken too soon, or misunderstood some sign from God.
The problem, of course, was that John’s understanding of the Messiah was far different than Jesus’ self-understanding. And we find the difference laid out starkly in the answer that Rabbi Jesus sends back to John. “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.”
These actions–sure signs that the Messiah was coming according to Isaiah the prophet–were not the same signs that John himself had anticipated, his vision of a messiah leaning much more towards a warrior-king who would restore the former glory of Israel. While the works that Rabbi Jesus was doing up in the north of Israel had merit–certainly to those sorely afflicted–they seem to have fallen short of John’s expectations, leading him to question who and what Jesus was.
Whereas John expected a mighty figure who would decimate enemies far and wide, Jesus urged his followers to love their enemies and to pray for their persecutors. Whereas John preached a fire-and-brimstone warning of punishment to any and all who fell short of the mark, Jesus welcomed sinners and forgave their sins. And whereas John foresaw the toppling of Roman authority over Israel, Jesus ate at the table of tax-collectors, stooges of the Roman state.
Little wonder, then, that John had second-thoughts about Rabbi Jesus. John had foreseen a mighty soldier with a scorched-earth mentality, but Jesus considered the meek and the lowly to be blessed and worthy of imitation. John, puzzled and perplexed, found himself lost in his thoughts, wondering if he had got everything wrong.
All of this serves as the background for the passage that we have put before us today–a confused John the Baptist, Jesus simply not what John had expected him to be, the Baptist left to ask if he should look for another instead, somebody who came closer to John’s expectations.
Although centuries separate us from the ponderings of John, his question is as pertinent now as it was then, our answer as important as the answer that Rabbi Jesus gives. “Are you the one or should we look for another?” Or, stated another way, are you the one we want to follow, or should we look elsewhere? Who is it we want to call our Messiah?
Without a doubt, this is a big question and the answer we give determines the direction we take in life. The type of person we become in the years we are allotted will be decided on the basis of the answer we provide to this singular question. Will it be Jesus for us or do we look for another?
The dilemma in which we find ourselves is no differ really than the one that John experienced. The choice is the same. Do we go for the slaying of enemies and for warring armies, an ascendancy of the strong and rule by the powerful, and for destruction and darkness? We certainly can go in that direction if we choose, especially since it is for the most part the way of the world.
Or do we choose another path, the road less traveled, the way of Jesus of Nazareth, where love is the default, not a fault, and where forgiveness is the norm, not the abnormal? Do we desire a world where the blind regain their sight, a world where the lame walk, a world where the lepers are cleansed? Do we work for a world where the deaf can hear, where the dead can stand on their feet again, and where the poor finally get a bit of good news?
If so, then we have chosen the path of Rabbi Jesus, a way of life that has us sharing what we have with the poor, instead of lining our own pockets, a way of life that would have us welcoming the foreigner, instead of castigating others because of the country from which they come, a way of life that strives for a common bond, instead of continuously choosing sides as if we were in battle formation.
Really, it is not difficult to determine which answer we have given. A quick glance at our lives provides the answer to the question. Our priorities and our passions easily reveal if we have decided that Jesus is the one, or if we have decided to look for another. And while we find it easy to lie to ourselves, our deeds do not lie. They tell the truth about us.
Jesus understood that his way would not be the preferred way. He tells John as much, saying, “Blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.” Or, stated equally well, “Blessed is the person who doesn’t have doubts about living the way I have lived.”
With Christmas only days away, it is good that we ponder the question that John asks. The answer we give decides in large part how we will approach this celebration of Christmas.
–Jeremy Myers
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