“Waiting in the Dark”, A Sermon preached by The Rev. Canon Dr. C. Denise Yarbrough on Sunday, December 12, 2010 at Church of the Ascension, Rochester, New York
2When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples 3and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Matt. 11:2-3)
Things don’t always work out the way you expect them to, do they? No matter how well prepared we might be, or how carefully we plan things, life has a way of taking unexpected turns and twists and plans once made, must be scrapped. People we thought would do good things for us don’t turn out to do what we expected, or dreams we had for someone or for ourselves don’t come about as we thought they might and we wake up one day and wonder, “how on earth did I get here?” John the Baptist knows that feeling of despair and frustration, when things aren’t going according to plan. John the Baptist, cousin of Jesus, born miraculously in his mother’s barren older age, destined by God to be a prophet and herald of God’s kingdom, sits in prison, alone, forsaken and nearing his death, wondering what on earth became of all the hopes and plans he had for himself and for Jesus. This John the Baptist is the one who leapt in his mother’s womb when Mary, Jesus’ mother approached Elizabeth during their joint pregnancies. This John the Baptist was the one who wandered all over the wilderness, proclaiming the coming of God’s kingdom, calling people to repent and be baptized. Scores of people streamed out to the desert to be baptized by him, including Jesus. On that memorable occasion, he even demurred, saying to Jesus that it was he, John, who should be baptized by Jesus, not the other way around. Then he baptized Jesus in the Jordan River and saw and heard the Holy Spirit descending upon Jesus, declaring him to be God’s beloved Son. Those were heady times.
John’s vision of God’s kingdom was one of the coming of God’s Messiah in great glory, a Messiah who would vanquish Israel’s foes and execute judgment on those who were not righteous. But what kind of a Messiah did John get? He got Jesus. This itinerant preacher, a carpenter by trade, who traveled around the countryside, healing, preaching, teaching, hanging out with questionable folks, and getting into trouble with religious authorities. Mind you, he did perform some miracles. He exorcised the Gerasene demoniac, healed Jairus’ daughter and Peter’s mother-in-law, gave the sermon on the mount, cured people who were ill, sometimes. But he, John, found himself in prison, and even Jesus’ miraculous work could not free him. Time was running out for John the Baptist. He sat in that dark, smelly cell, stripped of his ministry, his authority, his friends, unable to carry out his own vocation and waiting alone for what would be a tragic fate – decapitation at the hands of Herod’s wife. And in those long, lonely days of waiting in the dark, doubt crept in. As sure as John had been of Jesus once, he couldn’t sustain his faith in those long dark days of waiting.
He sends his disciples to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Who knows what he was feeling when he asked that question. He who had once been so sure of Jesus, so close to him, so in awe of him and so ready to pave the way for him to come and save the world. Now, in his own darkest, loneliest hour he doubts the very identity of Jesus. What kind of Messiah is this? Are you the one who is to come?
I suspect most of us have had our John the Baptist moments of doubt. Times when we have wondered if God even exists, and if God does, why God has chosen to disappear from our lives and our world. Times when all our hopes and dreams for our family, or our career, or our church or community seem up in the air, topsy turvy or simply shattered. Are you the one who is to come?
The news is full of reports of these John the Baptist moments. Supporters of Barack Obama criticize him for not having lived up to their hopes and dreams for him when he was elected, resulting in internal strife within his own party, while those on the other side try to maximize their power and influence as he struggles to guide our country through a deep recession, a seemingly endless war in Afghanistan, squabbles about everything from health care reform to repeal of “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policies and controversial tax breaks for the wealthy and unemployment benefit extensions for the many people who are still jobless. Then there are all the ordinary life crises that change a family’s life overnight. Terminal illnesses, accidents that end a life prematurely or result in slow, painstaking rehabilitation, job loss and the attendant worry about increasingly scarce financial resources, relationships fractured or broken due to misunderstanding or substance abuse or violence. And for Ascension in these waning days of 2010, the uncertainty about your own future as a congregation, as the search for new leadership continues and you wonder who will be sent to you next to lead you in your ministries and minister to your needs. When we find ourselves locked in the prison of these defining and frightening moments, waiting in darkness for some ray of hope, we too may well ask, “Are you the one who is to come?”
Advent is a time of waiting, a time of darkness, a time of learning to attend patiently letting God do God’s work in God’s own time. We humans don’t deal well with God-time. We live linearly, we think linearly, and we want things to happen according to our schedule, in a time and manner that makes sense to us. But God rarely works that way. People die sooner than we think they should from disease or accident. But then some people don’t die soon enough, as many families who have watched over a suffering loved one in an ICU or hospice bed for weeks on end will often lament. Recovery from illness takes longer than we think is fair, and demands grueling and painful therapy. The road to such recovery is often fraught with setbacks and defeats, one small step forward, followed by many large steps backward. The unemployed go on interview after interview and absorb rejection after rejection, struggling to maintain a sense of groundedness and optimism as financial resources wane and it’s harder and harder to find the energy to sell themselves. One man interviewed on NPR recently reported having sent out over 1000 resumes in the past six months and being rejected by two hundred potential employers as he searches for new work. It’s easy to get discouraged, easy to wonder, “Is this it? Where is God in all of this anyway?” “Are you the one who is to come?”
How does Jesus answer the question of his cousin John? Not with a direct answer, in typical Jesus fashion. He says, “Go and tell John what you 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. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” Now there’s an enigmatic line if ever there was one. Who takes no offense? The Greek word is skandalon, which is variously translated “does not stumble over”, “is not tripped up by”, “is not scandalized by”, “does not fall away because of.” Scholars generally believe the best translation is the one which says “is not tripped up by” me.
Jesus as one who trips people up? That’s a notion that we have a hard time accepting. However, given how radical Jesus’ gospel was, both to the first century culture in which he lived as well as to our own, it is not as unlikely as it sounds. Given that Jesus responds to John the Baptist’s question about his identity with this enigmatic statement, it is possible that he meant, “blessed are those who can see God at work in ways they didn’t think God would work.” In other words, blessed are those who can see God working in and through the most difficult of human situations in ways that seem peculiar to us. For the first century believers for whom Matthew’s gospel was written, those blessed people would have been those who could see a Messiah in a man who healed the sick and hung out with outcasts and sinners, rather than an earthly king taking over the society with power and might. Those who could look beyond their own narrow expectations and see God at work in Jesus’ ministry of healing and reconciliation and love were the true visionaries of their day.
We are just as challenged today to see God at work in unlikely places as were our first century forebears. In a society that has devolved into a culture of incivility, we see God at work when people are willing to open their hearts and minds to those with whom they differ, listening for how those different people might be messengers of truth in ways they had not considered. A willingness to reach across the aisle and befriend those who look or act or believe differently, may be where we find God at work in the world. Jesus tells John’s disciples to report to John that the blind see, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the lame walk. He calls their attention to works of love, healing and charity as the evidence John needs that God is at work in the world, despite apparent evidence to the contrary. In so doing, he also asks them to see God at work in a different manner than they expected God to work.
In this Advent season of waiting in the dark, Jesus’ directions to John’s disciples are words of wisdom for us. Where is healing happening in our world today? Who is doing the ministry of hospitality and welcome, feeding the hungry and housing the homeless? God is likely right there in those places. God is found wherever people reach out with compassion and mercy to bind up the broken hearted and bring good news to the poor. The challenge of Advent is to stay alert so that we do not miss God’s arrival by failing to recognize God in our midst. No, things don’t always work out as we planned. And the God we thought we wanted may not be the God we get, but the God we get is the God we need. Look for God in the unexpected places, when life forces a sudden turn upon you.
In the waning days of Advent the words of the prophet Isaiah ring across the ages, with new poignancy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water…everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. That is the hope we embrace in Advent.
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