In our Gospel lesson for this morning, John the Baptist is in prison. In Matthew’s story, we aren’t told why John’s in prison – just that he is. He’d heard what Jesus was doing and he sent word by his disciples to find out if Jesus was who they’d all been waiting for, or should they keep waiting? According to Matthew, John doesn’t know and he wants to know. He’s stuck in jail and he can’t find out for himself.

Now this might seems strange to those of you who know some Bible stories about John. You might be thinking, wait a minute. Wasn’t John the Baptist Jesus’ cousin? Didn’t his mom and dad, Elizabeth and Zechariah, tell him that his cousin was also known as Emmanuel? Didn’t he baptize Jesus and didn’t the heavens open up and the voice of God say, “this is my beloved son?” How could he not know that Jesus was the one? Does anyone besides me wonder these things?

You may know that every year the Church concentrates on reading one of the three synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark or Luke, beginning in the Advent of a new year. (John gets used for special occasions like Christmas and Eastertide.) This is the year for Matthew. Matthew has a very particular way of telling the good news of Jesus. Of the four evangelists, Matthew is the academic – something like a law school teacher – giving lectures and presenting evidence and citing precedence, usually from the prophet Isaiah. “According to Matthew,” is, by the way, the official title of the Gospel: “according to Matthew” the others are, as you might guess, “according to Luke”…”according to Mark”…”according to John.” So. According to Matthew, Jesus and John aren’t family. Matthew doesn’t mention John’s parents at all. Jesus first encounters John when he goes down to the river Jordan to be baptized and Jesus’ experience is that the heavens were opened to Jesus and he, that is Jesus, heard God’s voice. It wasn’t a public event – only Jesus experienced it, not the people all around him. Many Bible scholars believe that Jesus was a disciple of John’s first and only started his own ministry with his own following after John’s arrest. They base that on, among other things, Matthew’s version of the story.

So John’s question is, are you the one or should we keep waiting? I hear this as a question that says, “You are not what I was expecting and I’m losing my nerve. Are you going to get us out of this mess? Jesus, are you going to get me out of this place I’m stuck in or should I wait for someone else” I know that for some of us, that is our question too. Is Jesus the one, or should we keep waiting? And what is Jesus’ answer to that question? As usual, it’s not a simple yes or no, because Jesus never answers a question with a simple yes or no.

Jesus’ answer is, “Go and tell John what you are experiencing. Tell him what’s going on: those who are blind are seeing, those who are lame are walking, those who are impure are being cleaned, those who are deaf are hearing, those who are dead are being raised, and those who are poor are having good news brought to them.” Jesus’ response is poignant and a little funny. In other words, among the people, even those who are most marginalized, there’s new vision, new movement, restoration to community, there’s new ability to communicate, there’s new life and those who are poor are experiencing God’s blessing and love. This doesn’t happen magically, of course. According to Matthew, Jesus is the embodiment of Emmanuel (which means, with us is God). According to Matthew, Jesus and his followers go out to do the work of spreading God’s love.  

Out to do the work of spreading God’s love. You know, whenever we move into the season of Advent, I think about the similarities between Advent and Lent – both are seasons of penitential reflection and preparation for celebration. And if Lent is a time for personal examination and repentance and transformation, then Advent is the time for communal or social examination and repentance and transformation. In my view, Lent is more inwardly focused. Advent’s focus is outward. During Lent, churchy people often take on what are called “Lenten disciplines” – giving something up or taking something on for the 40 days of Lent. We don’t hear so much about Advent discipline. I don’t mean the discipline of holding off on decorating the house or refraining from caroling before Christmas Eve, or even resisting our culture’s relentless consumerism. I mean Advent disciplines that have something to do with our life together – building community. And I think that Advent disciplines have to have something to do with developing or practicing habits that generate hope wherever despair threatens to overwhelm. (1)

Developing or practicing habits that generate hope wherever despair threatens to overwhelm. Think of Boston Public Quartet creating community through chamber music the Chittick Elementary School in Mattapan. Think of St. Stephen’s in the South End working to create a library for Blackstone Elementary School in the South End. Think of raising money for the Massachusetts Coalition for the Homeless, housing the Safe Haven Shelter and Aggressive Street Outreach, Boston Gay and Lesbian Youth Alliance and the Gay Men’s Chorus, the hospitality of Café Emmanuel for LGBT seniors, and art programs for people who are homeless and people who are incarcerated, the hands-on chiropractic care for people who are homeless. All these programs are developing and practicing habits that generate hope. What’s more, they are all habits that generate hope that you support by your presence here, and by the ways that you so generously share your resources at Emmanuel Church.
“And blessed is anyone who is not scandalized by me,” Jesus adds.

Now why would anyone be scandalized by Jesus? Well, I think it’s because he was incredibly undiscriminating and he had the audacity to remind people again and again of how undiscriminating God is. Jesus taught, according to Matthew, that God makes the sun to rise on those who are evil and those who are good and sends rain (welcome relief in an arid place) on those who are just and those who are unjust. Jesus taught, according to Matthew, that we are to love, rather than to judge and that according to Matthew, according to Isaiah, it’s Love that makes the desert bloom. Jesus was serving people who were deserving and undeserving. That’s why someone might take offense or be scandalized – especially someone who was stuck in prison and who deserved to be set free. The Greek word here translated “offense” literally means scandal or stumbling block. Sometimes the stumbling block is that Jesus demonstrates compassion for the least likely, the least deserving people.

Sometimes the stumbling block is that Jesus hasn’t sufficiently served those who are deserving. But Jesus is saying a blessing on those who manage to not be tripped up by that. Illness, disease, disability, poverty and even death have nothing to do with deserving when it comes to the love of God. Jesus’ serving has nothing to do with deserving. Acts of mercy and peace can be so scandalous – so offensive when people who do not deserve them, receive them.

Whenever I pray that collect for the third Sunday of Advent, you know, the one that begins, “stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us,” it scares the daylights out of me – and I wonder if it scares you. Because what if it really happens? What if God’s power really gets stirred up and comes among us with great might? Well, all kinds of crazy impossible things start to happen. When God’s power gets stirred up and comes among us, people start imagining and start seeing abundance instead of scarcity. People start putting violins and violas and cellos and new books in the hands of children who don’t even know what to do with them. People start demonstrating compassion and mercy whether or not compassion and mercy are deserved – sometimes with complete strangers – sometimes even with family members! People start providing shelter and food and actual hospitality for mentally ill women. People start making friends with criminals. People start using their hands and their minds and their prayers to provide compassionate care for those who have been untouchable. People start believing that homelessness could end and that queer teenagers might not feel the need to kill themselves, and that a church could provide sanctuary for all sorts and conditions – and I do mean all sorts and conditions – of people who are not welcome (for long anyway) in other establishments in Boston – let alone Newbury Street!

We who are blind are seeing, we who are lame are walking, we who are impure are being cleaned, we who are deaf are hearing, we who are dead are being raised, and we who are poor are receiving good news. All kinds of crazy things are happening. So I ask you Emmanuel, what’s next?