Here's my sermon for tomorrow, on the Old Testament lesson (Micah 6:1-8). Sorry I haven't posted in over a month, Christmas was a busy time!
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Micah 6:8 is one of the more famous verses in the Old Testament. You may have heard it before, or seen it decorating someone’s home. It is printed on t-shirts and coasters. And with good reason — these words are both beautiful and powerful. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
Micah 6:8 is probably much more familiar to us than the rest of the book of Micah. We so often hear this verse by itself, removed from its context. The context of Micah 6:8 is important, however, and worthwhile to a deeper understanding of this famous verse.
Like many of the Old Testament prophets, Micah brings a word of warning and condemnation to God’s people. Through Micah, God enumerates the injustice and faithlessness of the people of Judah. The language is of a court case – God is bringing a complaint against the people. Earlier chapters in Micah describe God's charges: prophets leading the people astray, the ruling class perverting justice and even taking bribes for their judgments. The powerful, both in civil and religious life, are abandoning their duty to the poor and powerless. Priests, prophets, and judges are self-serving and determined to maintain the status quo. They preach a message of God's favor to themselves. They do not wish to hear a word of judgment from God; but Micah brings precisely this word.
In the context of this injustice and self-serving religiosity, Micah brings God's complaint. In God's court, the created world is the jury: the mountains and hills themselves stand up to bear witness. “Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord, and you enduring foundations of the earth; for the Lord has a controversy with his people, and he will contend with Israel.” In contrast to the faithlessness of humanity, God enumerates the many acts of salvation and loyalty God has performed for the people: bringing them out of slavery in Egypt, providing them leaders, providing them blessings, and leading them into the promised land. God asks if the people have gotten tired of this saving grace!
The response that comes from the people might sound plaintive: “With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” The people are saying: if God has declared us guilty, what can we do to make it right? They offer up sacrifices, even human sacrifices, to appease God.
Once again, the people display their obstinate ignorance of God's will. They propose sacrificing children in order to buy off God's wrath. But Micah sharply reminds them of the proper response: “God has told you, O mortal, what is good!” God has made it clear what God desires – and it's not human sacrifice. God can't be bought off. This famous verse, Micah 6:8, sums up God's expectation: “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.”
Allow me to take a step back from our Micah text for a moment to tell you a story. A member of this congregation has very kindly taken up the habit of bringing me my beverage of choice from Starbucks every Sunday (chai latte with 2% milk, in case you were wondering). A few weeks ago, as I was enjoying my Starbucks during the Sunday school hour, I looked down and read the back of the cup. “Everything we do, you do,” it said, and proceeded to explain how I had bought some two hundred thousand pounds of fairly-obtained coffee with my one little cup. It's a brilliant marketing ploy on Starbucks' part – not only do I get a drink, I get to feel good about myself, too! My consumerism gets to go hand-in-hand with my philanthropy!
Let me give you another example. The Dove corporation, which makes soaps and lotions, has a campaign targeted to women – you may have seen it. The “Dove Campaign for True Beauty.” This campaign lifts up the unreasonable images presented in advertising – female models who have been made up and photoshopped beyond any semblance of reality. Dove wants us to know that they're in favor of true beauty, authentic beauty. So by buying their products, I'm supporting women and girls!
Yet the company that owns Dove, Unilever, also owns Axe—which presents some of the most offensive images of women in advertising. You ought to smell a stink of hypocrisy on Dove's “True Beauty” campaign. I am quite confident that Dove is more interested in making a profit by whatever means than in promoting healthy images of women in advertising.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's wrong to buy Dove soap or to drink Starbucks coffee. After all, I don't want to start a riot here, and I plan to keep enjoying my chai lattes. There's nothing wrong with drinking Starbucks. But there is something wrong with drinking Starbucks and convincing ourselves that it's the same thing as “doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with our God.” Starbucks and other corporations want us to believe that consumerism is identical to justice – but it's not. We can't let ourselves be deceived by marketing campaigns.
The people of Micah's time thought they could buy off God. They thought that making some sacrifices of animals – or even children – would deter God's righteous anger. We may often think, in our modern world, that buying fair trade coffee is enough to stop injustice. We may think we can buy off God as well, fulfill God's demands for righteousness, through our consumption.
Micah then speaks a word of judgment to us just as much as he did to the people of Judah. In the face of our consumerism and self-satisfaction, Micah reminds us, “God has told you what is good!” God has told us what we ought to do. God has told us what God expects. Micah sums it all up in three brief instructions: do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly with God.
The instructions of Micah 6:8 are not easy. We should not pretend that they are easy—that we can do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God just by spending more money or supporting the right organizations. As one commentator put it, “To enact justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God, are not single acts that can be checked off the list and left behind. On an individual and social scale, in ways large and small, this is a way of life.” Yes, this is a way of life. The expectation of God spoken by Micah is that we devote our whole lives to doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.
If we take seriously the commandment of Micah 6:8—and I certainly think we should—it’s necessary for us not only to examine the injustices of the world around us, but to examine ourselves as well. We need to consider how our actions affect the planet and our fellow creatures. We can’t be lazy, buying into the messages of advertising, because those messages are fundamentally intended to make money. We should consider how the systems of consumerism which make our lives so comfortable may cause misery for our brothers and sisters around the world.
The prophetic words of Micah were no doubt harsh and troubling to the people of Judah. So too for us today: we may be troubled, even shocked, when we consider our own injustices. The weight of the world’s needs may feel overwhelming or exhausting.
Yet this word is good news, as well. It is good news for the suffering, the powerless and hopeless, that they might see the justice they so deeply desire. A world where people direct their lives to doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God is a better world for those who are suffering.
And what about the unjust, self-serving priests and judges? What about the rich and powerful of today? What about our comfortable consumerism? Yes, there is good news for us, too. There is good news that we can be included in Jesus’ blessings: “Blessed are the meek... Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness... Blessed are the pure in heart.... Blessed are the peacemakers.” Blessed are those who do justice. Blessed are those who love kindness. Blessed are those who walk humbly with their God. Amen.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sunday, December 12, 2010
December 12 Sermon
Here's my sermon from this morning. I wasn't totally happy with it, but... oh well.
Good morning. God's grace and peace be with all of you.
Our gospel text this morning begins with a question: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John the Baptist, who is in prison, sends this question through his followers to Jesus. “Are you the one who is to come?” The question might seem to be a strange one, coming from John the Baptist. After all, it was John who baptized Jesus, John who would have seen the heavens opened up and God's Spirit descending in the form of a dove and heard a voice from heaven saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Wouldn't John, of all people, know that Jesus is “the one who is to come?”
Yet John doubts. John questions Jesus' identity, even when it would seem that he had more than enough evidence to prove who Jesus is. John is so concerned, he must send messengers from prison to ask, “Are you the one who is to come?” John is overwhelmed by a pressing question about Jesus; he simply must know: “Who are you?”
Jesus' answer may seem as unusual as John's question. Despite John's experiences with Jesus, he feels compelled to ask about Jesus' identity. And Jesus does not seem to answer the question he is asked. Jesus does not say, “I am the one who is to come,” or “I am the Messiah,” or even give a simple yes or no. Instead, Jesus says, “Go and tell John what you hear and see.” Jesus doesn't say who he is, instead he says what he does: “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.”
In response to a question about his identity, Jesus answers with his actions. In other words, Jesus is telling John, “If you want to know who I am, look at what I'm doing.” Jesus' identity is found in his actions. John is supposed to find the answer to his question in what Jesus is doing. And the same is true for us. If we want to know if Jesus is really “the one,” Jesus is telling us to look at how he lived in the world.
The answer is not what John was expecting or wanted to hear. If you remember the Gospel reading from last week, we got to hear about John’s expectations for the “coming one.” In Matthew 3, we read John’s words: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” John is anticipating divine judgment. He vividly describes how the “one who is to come” will act: he will cut down every tree that does not bear good fruit; he will separate the wheat from the chaff. The righteous will be rewarded and the wicked will be punished.
This was the hope of many in Jesus’ time, who had suffered terrible oppression at the hands of the powerful. The judgment of God was their only hope for justice in an unjust world. Even today, we may hope for the same: that God will finally come and give everyone what he or she deserves. Like John the Baptist, we may look forward to a divine judgment.
Again, however, Jesus’ answer goes against expectations. Jesus tells John’s followers, “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.” These are not actions of judgment! There is no ax at the foot of the tree here, no unquenchable fire. No, instead Jesus is describing acts of mercy and compassion. Jesus does not bring judgment; he brings good news to those who need to hear it most.
Are these the actions of a Messiah? John certainly didn’t think so — after all, “Messiah” is a political term. “Messiah” means “anointed one,” and the ones who were anointed were kings, going all the way back to King Saul. A king ought to be ruling, not performing acts of mercy and preaching to the poor! Jesus is neither the divine judge nor the chosen king that John and the people of his time were expecting. And so John asks, “Are you the one? Can you possibly be the one?”
Jesus has one other word for the followers of John. After he tells them all he has done, all the acts of mercy and grace, he says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me” — anyone who takes no offense at a wandering preacher instead of a king, anyone who takes no offense at a merciful savior instead of a divine judge. John is facing the real possibility that he will take offense — that he will reject Jesus because Jesus does not meet John’s expectations. That possibility of offense is real for all potential followers of Jesus. The disciples, the crowds — all of them are confronted by a Messiah who goes against their expectations and hopes. They may take offense at who Jesus is, what Jesus does. But Jesus tells them, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”
We, too, must face the possibility of offense. When God does not act in the way we want or expect, we may become offended. When Jesus reveals mercy when we expect judgment, we may become offended. When Jesus sides with the poor and weak instead of the rich and powerful, we may become offended. We may turn away, refusing to accept this Jesus.
In the season of Advent, we are waiting for the coming of God into the world in Jesus. As we wait, it’s worthwhile to ask ourselves, “Who are we waiting for?” Are we waiting for a divine judge, like John? Are we waiting for a powerful ruler? And if we are waiting for God to come into the world, how will we respond to Jesus as a helpless baby in a filthy stable?
I’m not asking these questions just to make a point. I think they are questions we should seriously consider in our own faith lives. Because there is the possibility of offense for all of us. After all, if the reality of Jesus — the Son of God, come to earth — were immediately obvious to everyone, then faith would not matter. If Jesus’ identity were clear to everyone, then everyone would follow him. But that’s not the case. The truth is, many people have been offended by who Jesus is. That’s not an occasion for us to be self-congratulatory, as if we “get it” when others do not. We face the possibility of offense as well: at times, even we turn away and refuse to follow. So we have to ask ourselves, “Who are we waiting for, this Advent?” We have to ask, “What will our response be? Are we going to be offended by Jesus?”
Jesus says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” How will we respond to Jesus, to God in human form? If, by the grace of God, we are among those “blessed,” then our response should be to follow Jesus. In a few short weeks, we will remember a baby born in a stable to a teenaged and unmarried mother. From those humble beginnings, Jesus did not rise to a life of power and privilege. Instead, he lived constantly among the sick, the poor, the outcasts of society, and he died shamefully on a cross. “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” This is the Lord we follow.
Jesus lived out God’s love, mercy, and care for the world. Jesus gave people what they most desperately needed — physical care, to be sure, but above all, compassion and hope. Jesus brought good news to the poor. So too, as followers of Jesus, should we. Christ calls us to be companions to those who are suffering, those we might find distasteful or frightening. Christ calls us not only to write a check, though that is certainly important, but to see them face-to-face. Christ, who was born in a dirty stable and lived among the poor, is calling us when he says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” Amen.
Good morning. God's grace and peace be with all of you.
Our gospel text this morning begins with a question: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John the Baptist, who is in prison, sends this question through his followers to Jesus. “Are you the one who is to come?” The question might seem to be a strange one, coming from John the Baptist. After all, it was John who baptized Jesus, John who would have seen the heavens opened up and God's Spirit descending in the form of a dove and heard a voice from heaven saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Wouldn't John, of all people, know that Jesus is “the one who is to come?”
Yet John doubts. John questions Jesus' identity, even when it would seem that he had more than enough evidence to prove who Jesus is. John is so concerned, he must send messengers from prison to ask, “Are you the one who is to come?” John is overwhelmed by a pressing question about Jesus; he simply must know: “Who are you?”
Jesus' answer may seem as unusual as John's question. Despite John's experiences with Jesus, he feels compelled to ask about Jesus' identity. And Jesus does not seem to answer the question he is asked. Jesus does not say, “I am the one who is to come,” or “I am the Messiah,” or even give a simple yes or no. Instead, Jesus says, “Go and tell John what you hear and see.” Jesus doesn't say who he is, instead he says what he does: “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.”
In response to a question about his identity, Jesus answers with his actions. In other words, Jesus is telling John, “If you want to know who I am, look at what I'm doing.” Jesus' identity is found in his actions. John is supposed to find the answer to his question in what Jesus is doing. And the same is true for us. If we want to know if Jesus is really “the one,” Jesus is telling us to look at how he lived in the world.
The answer is not what John was expecting or wanted to hear. If you remember the Gospel reading from last week, we got to hear about John’s expectations for the “coming one.” In Matthew 3, we read John’s words: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” John is anticipating divine judgment. He vividly describes how the “one who is to come” will act: he will cut down every tree that does not bear good fruit; he will separate the wheat from the chaff. The righteous will be rewarded and the wicked will be punished.
This was the hope of many in Jesus’ time, who had suffered terrible oppression at the hands of the powerful. The judgment of God was their only hope for justice in an unjust world. Even today, we may hope for the same: that God will finally come and give everyone what he or she deserves. Like John the Baptist, we may look forward to a divine judgment.
Again, however, Jesus’ answer goes against expectations. Jesus tells John’s followers, “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.” These are not actions of judgment! There is no ax at the foot of the tree here, no unquenchable fire. No, instead Jesus is describing acts of mercy and compassion. Jesus does not bring judgment; he brings good news to those who need to hear it most.
Are these the actions of a Messiah? John certainly didn’t think so — after all, “Messiah” is a political term. “Messiah” means “anointed one,” and the ones who were anointed were kings, going all the way back to King Saul. A king ought to be ruling, not performing acts of mercy and preaching to the poor! Jesus is neither the divine judge nor the chosen king that John and the people of his time were expecting. And so John asks, “Are you the one? Can you possibly be the one?”
Jesus has one other word for the followers of John. After he tells them all he has done, all the acts of mercy and grace, he says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me” — anyone who takes no offense at a wandering preacher instead of a king, anyone who takes no offense at a merciful savior instead of a divine judge. John is facing the real possibility that he will take offense — that he will reject Jesus because Jesus does not meet John’s expectations. That possibility of offense is real for all potential followers of Jesus. The disciples, the crowds — all of them are confronted by a Messiah who goes against their expectations and hopes. They may take offense at who Jesus is, what Jesus does. But Jesus tells them, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”
We, too, must face the possibility of offense. When God does not act in the way we want or expect, we may become offended. When Jesus reveals mercy when we expect judgment, we may become offended. When Jesus sides with the poor and weak instead of the rich and powerful, we may become offended. We may turn away, refusing to accept this Jesus.
In the season of Advent, we are waiting for the coming of God into the world in Jesus. As we wait, it’s worthwhile to ask ourselves, “Who are we waiting for?” Are we waiting for a divine judge, like John? Are we waiting for a powerful ruler? And if we are waiting for God to come into the world, how will we respond to Jesus as a helpless baby in a filthy stable?
I’m not asking these questions just to make a point. I think they are questions we should seriously consider in our own faith lives. Because there is the possibility of offense for all of us. After all, if the reality of Jesus — the Son of God, come to earth — were immediately obvious to everyone, then faith would not matter. If Jesus’ identity were clear to everyone, then everyone would follow him. But that’s not the case. The truth is, many people have been offended by who Jesus is. That’s not an occasion for us to be self-congratulatory, as if we “get it” when others do not. We face the possibility of offense as well: at times, even we turn away and refuse to follow. So we have to ask ourselves, “Who are we waiting for, this Advent?” We have to ask, “What will our response be? Are we going to be offended by Jesus?”
Jesus says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” How will we respond to Jesus, to God in human form? If, by the grace of God, we are among those “blessed,” then our response should be to follow Jesus. In a few short weeks, we will remember a baby born in a stable to a teenaged and unmarried mother. From those humble beginnings, Jesus did not rise to a life of power and privilege. Instead, he lived constantly among the sick, the poor, the outcasts of society, and he died shamefully on a cross. “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” This is the Lord we follow.
Jesus lived out God’s love, mercy, and care for the world. Jesus gave people what they most desperately needed — physical care, to be sure, but above all, compassion and hope. Jesus brought good news to the poor. So too, as followers of Jesus, should we. Christ calls us to be companions to those who are suffering, those we might find distasteful or frightening. Christ calls us not only to write a check, though that is certainly important, but to see them face-to-face. Christ, who was born in a dirty stable and lived among the poor, is calling us when he says, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” Amen.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The Good News about New Year's
[This is the January newsletter article I wrote for King of Kings. I liked it, so I figured I'd share.]
The Good News about New Year's
Just as surely as Thanksgiving has its turkey and Christmas has its decorations, January has its own tradition: New Year's resolutions. It's a staple of both pop culture and our own lives. After the holidays, after the family celebrations and the overindulgent feasts, we settle down into a dark, cold January, determined to remake ourselves. Join a gym; lose that holiday weight; become a more patient or thankful or kind person; find Mr. or Ms. Right.
What is it we are searching for, after all? When we try to conform our appearance to the photoshopped magazine ideal of slender bodies (or, for gentlemen, toned bodies) and perfect skin, we are doomed to failure. When we search for our lives' meaning in romance, we are more often than not disappointed. And when we try to mold ourselves into patient, kinder people, we often end up frustrated. New Year's resolutions send us chasing after impossible ideals and leave us feeling worse about ourselves than we did before we began.
In the second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit." This is the good news for us about New Year's! Paul reminds us that we are being transformed, not by our own effort but by the Holy Spirit. We are being transformed, not in January but constantly. We are being transformed; therefore we don't have to be slaves to our resolutions, but we can enjoy the freedom of the Spirit.
This year, consider this New Year's resolution: to let go of resolutions. Instead, remember that God's Spirit is constantly transforming us. We are not becoming closer and closer to the false ideals of advertising, but we are becoming closer and closer to the glory of God. And it is through God's grace that we receive this transformation. Therefore, we are free! Thanks be to God!
The Good News about New Year's
Just as surely as Thanksgiving has its turkey and Christmas has its decorations, January has its own tradition: New Year's resolutions. It's a staple of both pop culture and our own lives. After the holidays, after the family celebrations and the overindulgent feasts, we settle down into a dark, cold January, determined to remake ourselves. Join a gym; lose that holiday weight; become a more patient or thankful or kind person; find Mr. or Ms. Right.
What is it we are searching for, after all? When we try to conform our appearance to the photoshopped magazine ideal of slender bodies (or, for gentlemen, toned bodies) and perfect skin, we are doomed to failure. When we search for our lives' meaning in romance, we are more often than not disappointed. And when we try to mold ourselves into patient, kinder people, we often end up frustrated. New Year's resolutions send us chasing after impossible ideals and leave us feeling worse about ourselves than we did before we began.
In the second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit." This is the good news for us about New Year's! Paul reminds us that we are being transformed, not by our own effort but by the Holy Spirit. We are being transformed, not in January but constantly. We are being transformed; therefore we don't have to be slaves to our resolutions, but we can enjoy the freedom of the Spirit.
This year, consider this New Year's resolution: to let go of resolutions. Instead, remember that God's Spirit is constantly transforming us. We are not becoming closer and closer to the false ideals of advertising, but we are becoming closer and closer to the glory of God. And it is through God's grace that we receive this transformation. Therefore, we are free! Thanks be to God!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
December 12 Sermon - Part Two
So I'm looking at Matthew 11:2-11. John the Baptist is in prison and sends some of his disciples to Jesus, wondering if Jesus really is the Messiah. At first, it seems like a silly question to come from John - after all, John is the one who baptized Jesus and heard a voice saying "This is my son." Shouldn't John, of all people, believe? But as David Garland pointed out in his commentary Reading Matthew, John had expected something different. In the Gospel text for December 5, we hear about John's expectations:
John was anticipating a radical, apocalyptic judgment. Instead, he hears reports that Jesus is healing the sick, raising the dead, and proclaiming good news to the poor - signs of power and significance, certainly. But are they signs of the Messiah?
It seems that this is the fundamental issue in this text. What is the Messiah supposed to look like? Does Jesus fit the bill? And Jesus himself highlights the importance of this question: "Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." Even John, who was "more than a prophet," had to face the possibility that Jesus was not the Messiah he wanted. Even John could take offense at Jesus. How much more so for all the crowds - and how much more so for us today?
Since we are in the season of Advent, perhaps we can frame the question this way: For whom are we waiting, after all? What are we expecting of this baby we call "Emmanuel" and "King of Kings" and "Wonderful Counselor" and all the rest? Are we expecting judgment, to find mercy? Are we expecting political power, to find none of it? Are we expecting moral righteousness, to find someone who eats with riffraff (v. 19)? Can we face the real tension between offense and faith?
(I think there is also an interesting nuance here if we take the theological position that faith is not up to us. In other words, rather than reading this as a choice between offense and faith, what happens if we accept the faith itself as a gift from God?)
Kierkegaard, in his fashion, wrote an entire book on the phrase "Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." I'm going to go home and look at his account as well.
"The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire."
John was anticipating a radical, apocalyptic judgment. Instead, he hears reports that Jesus is healing the sick, raising the dead, and proclaiming good news to the poor - signs of power and significance, certainly. But are they signs of the Messiah?
It seems that this is the fundamental issue in this text. What is the Messiah supposed to look like? Does Jesus fit the bill? And Jesus himself highlights the importance of this question: "Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." Even John, who was "more than a prophet," had to face the possibility that Jesus was not the Messiah he wanted. Even John could take offense at Jesus. How much more so for all the crowds - and how much more so for us today?
Since we are in the season of Advent, perhaps we can frame the question this way: For whom are we waiting, after all? What are we expecting of this baby we call "Emmanuel" and "King of Kings" and "Wonderful Counselor" and all the rest? Are we expecting judgment, to find mercy? Are we expecting political power, to find none of it? Are we expecting moral righteousness, to find someone who eats with riffraff (v. 19)? Can we face the real tension between offense and faith?
(I think there is also an interesting nuance here if we take the theological position that faith is not up to us. In other words, rather than reading this as a choice between offense and faith, what happens if we accept the faith itself as a gift from God?)
Kierkegaard, in his fashion, wrote an entire book on the phrase "Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." I'm going to go home and look at his account as well.
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