Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?

Matthew 11: 2-11

When John heard in prison of the works of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to him 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.” (Jesus’ to John)

As they were going off, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John, “What did you go out to the desert to see? A reed swayed by the wind? Then what did you go out to see? Someone dressed in fine clothing? Those who wear fine clothing are in royal palaces. Then why 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: “Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way before you.” Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

Discussion Questions:

1. Both John and his disciples were expecting a very different messiah from what they found in Jesus. They did not recognize him. In what ways might your expectations of who Jesus should be, block you from recognizing His way of being present in your daily life?
2. Jesus probes the crowd about why they went into the desert and what were they looking for? Honestly reflecting on our motivations and intentions to see what drives us, can be a bit like going into the desert. As you examine your heart and conscious this Advent season, what are you looking for, or hoping for?
3. Describe a time when you noticed Jesus’ presence in unexpected ways.
4. How has your experience of who Jesus is changed over the years? If you were to describe your current relationship with Jesus to someone, what would you say?

Biblical Context

Dr Margaret Nutting Ralph PHD

We move now from the third chapter of Matthew, in which John the Baptist announced the coming of one greater than he, to the eleventh chapter, in which John sends his own disciples to ask Jesus whether or not he is “the one who is to come,” the expected messiah. For many of us this question comes as a surprise. Didn’t John recognize Jesus?

In Matthew’s Gospel John is arrested before the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. Immediately after Jesus’ temptation in the desert, and before his public ministry begins, Matthew tells us that, ‘When he [Jesus] heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee… (Matt 4:12). So John did not witness Jesus’ ministry; he simply heard about it while he was in prison.

The question that John’s disciples ask Jesus is, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” The fact that they had to ask this question reveals that the kind of messiah they expected was quite different from the kind of messiah that Jesus turned out to be. Jesus was not immediately recognizable to them.

Jesus does not answer the question directly. He does not say, “Yes, I am the one who is to come.” Rather, Jesus draws the disciples’ attention to his works: “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.” When we read today’s Old Testament passage from Isaiah (Isa 35: l-6a) we will see that the signs Jesus names are the same signs that Isaiah names when he talks about the coming of the Lord:

Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, he comes with vindication; with divine recompense he comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag,

Scripture scholars suggest that John, like his contemporaries, did not immediately recognize Jesus as the expected messiah because he, too, expected a very different kind of messiah from what Jesus turned out to be. We saw in last week’s Gospel that John described the “one who is to come” in somewhat harsh terms. When John called the Pharisees and Sadducees “a brood of vipers,” he asked them, “Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?” (Matt 3:7). Then, in describing the ministry of the one who was to come John said, “His winnowing fan is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Matt 3:12). It seems that John was expecting a harsher and more judgmental messiah than Jesus turned out to be. Jesus knew that he was not what was expected; that is why Jesus says, “And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.

Jesus then speaks to the crowd about John. John is truly a great man, not because he speaks persuasively on the fad of the day (“A reed swayed by the wind”), and not because he is a rich celebrity (“someone dressed in fine clothing”), but because he is a prophet. The Jews had not had recent prophets. The last book in the works of the prophets is Malachi, which dates to the time after the Babylonian exile, some 450 years before Christ. Jesus is quoting Malachi when he says,

Behold I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way before you. However, Malachi pictures God saying; Lo, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me.

By changing Malachi’s “me” to “you,” Jesus is reinterpreting the passage to refer to himself. Jesus is stating what John said in last week’s Gospel: John is a great prophet because he was sent to prepare the way for Jesus. The answer to John’s original question, “Are you the one who is to come?” is “Yes.” Jesus is the longed-for messiah, but he is a very different kind of messiah from what John and his contemporaries expected.

Filling the Jesus Gap

Fr. Michael K. Marsh

 

John yelled at his disciples, “The Messiah is doing what!?” His voice escaped between the bars of his cell and echoed throughout the prison. Maybe his disciples told him what Jesus was doing. Or maybe he overheard the guards talking about it. Maybe he found out from other visitors.

Jesus has been going throughout Galilee teaching and proclaiming the good news; healing the sick; telling the poor, those who mourn, the meek, and the merciful that they are blessed; touching and healing lepers; giving sight to the blind; making the paralyzed walk; raising the dead.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John snorted to his disciples. “Turn the other cheek, give to everyone who begs from you, love your enemy? He actually said that?”

“No, this can’t be. That’s not who I baptized. That’s not what I meant when I said he was the more powerful one. I was specific about that – axes, winnowing fork, and unquenchable fire. That’s power.”

“You go find him and tell him John wants to know, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’”

So, maybe it didn’t really happen like that but that’s what I imagine is going on. It’s what we might read if we were to read between the lines. It may not be factual, but I think it is true – for John, you, and me.

I suspect that for most of us there is a gap between our hopes for and expectations of who Jesus is and what he does, and who he really is and what he really does. It’s a gap between our image of the one who is to come and the one who shows up. It’s a gap between what we want and what we get.

If Jesus would just be more who he is supposed to be, who we want him to be, the gap would close. But it doesn’t. It remains.

That gap is most apparent when life breaks our heart, when evil wins the day, when our prayer feels like nothing more than spitting words into the wind. That gap is often filled with disappointment, fear, grief, confusion, anger. It holds us like a prison cell.

When have you experienced that gap? What happened? What did it feel like?

 

See if any of this sounds familiar:

• I thought Jesus would give me the answer. Instead, he calls me into question.

• I thought he would make my life easier. Instead, he asks me to take up my cross and follow him.

• I thought he would give me security and safety. Instead, he asks me to live vulnerably.

• I thought he would take care of the world’s needs. Instead, he says, “You give them something to eat.”

• I thought he would give me whatever I asked for. Instead, he says to pray like this: “Our Father … your kingdom come, your will be done.”

• I thought he would be on my side. Instead, he tells me to love my enemy.

• I thought he would prevent death. Instead, he asks, “Do you believe in the resurrection?”

• I thought he would heal my relationships. Instead, he tells me to forgive not seven times but seventy times seven.

• I thought he would make me number one. Instead, he says I must be a servant of all.

• I thought he would make me successful. Instead, he asks if that’s the treasure to which I want to give my heart.

• I thought he would show up in spectacular ways. Instead, he looks like the hungry, the thirsty, the sick, the naked, the homeless, the stranger.

• I thought he would bring some magic to my life and world. Instead, he gives me the work of repentance.

• I thought he would take care of everything. Instead, he believes that I will do greater things than him.

 

Whenever we expect Jesus to exercise power like a classic hero – a strong force, superhero like – he completely reverses our expectations of who he is and what God’s kingdom is like. That reversal is at the heart of John’s question. It is a reversal that changes how we live, relate to others, and engage the world.

That reversal is taking place in John. In last week’s gospel (Matthew 3: 1-12), John was a wild man, in this week’s gospel (Mathew 11:2-11) he’s an inmate. Last week he wandered the open expanse, this week he’s confined to a jail cell. Last week he was absolutely sure of what he knew, this week he’s shackled by uncertainty and not knowing. Last week he was a prophet with a voice, this week he’s a prisoner with a question.

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” I hear that not so much as a question about Jesus’ identity but as a statement about what’s going on in John (and you and me).

I can imagine the unspoken part, the omitted words, that might follow that question. It goes something like this: “Because if you are the one who is to come, you are neither who I thought you would be nor who I hoped and wanted you to be.”

What if that’s John’s jailhouse confession? And what if we let it be ours too?

Haven’t there been times when you weren’t sure about who Jesus is? Maybe he surprised you by what he said or did. Maybe you were disappointed, even angry, at what he did not do. Maybe there was a time when he didn’t live up to your expectations.

I don’t think that confession, whether it’s John’s or ours, represents a failure or an ending. Instead, that confession is the beginning of our reversal. It’s a reversal that opens our eyes to see, our hearts to love, and our hands to reach out. It’s a reversal that keeps us open to the one who is coming, whoever or wherever that might be.

That reversal doesn’t eliminate the gap. It does, however, change it – from a prison cell to an opportunity. It calls us to stand in and fill the gap. It asks us to respond. “For it is we who have mountains to move by our faith” and it is we who make “God stronger than the power [or pain] of the world” (Caputo, What Would Jesus Deconstruct, p88).

And blessed are we if we take no offense at that.

 

Selections from Breaking Open the Lectionary: Lectionary Readings in Their Biblical Context for RCIA, Faith Sharing Groups, and Lectors—Cycle A, by Margaret Nutting Ralph, Copyright © 2007 by Margaret Nutting Ralph. Paulist Press, Inc., New York/Mahwah, NJ. Reprinted by permission of Paulist Press, Inc. www.paulistpress.com.

Reflection from “Interrupting the Silence”, Fr. Michael K. Marsh. used by permission.