Are you the one? Matthew 11:2-11

Normally I’m somebody who likes creature comforts. I appreciate a warm car – I’m no fan of scraping ice, turning the engine and firing up the blowers ten minutes before I leave. As I drove to the eight o’clock I would often give thanks for whoever designed the heated windscreen.

However, the other day I spent two hours in a stone cold car – and it was good! I felt positively virtuous. Because this was an electric car – no gases, no particles and minimal carbon. I didn’t know how much electricity the heater would use – I knew I could get to Cheltenham and back but could I do it and be warm? I didn’t mind driving in my coat and gloves, it was exciting, new and the torque makes pulling away from the lights amazing!

Context is everything. The environment around us changes the way we think. My reaction to a difficult meeting can be alarmingly dependent on whether I’ve had a good night’s sleep. Like the Leylandii shading a kitchen window, you sometimes don’t realise how much morale has been affected until the tree has been felled.

Even our internal monologue, how we choose to listen to our own narrative, can make a difference. If as the vicar of 8 parishes I gave too much credence to the internal voice jabbering away about decline, I could get quite low. But if I responded in a balanced way: yes, there’s that, but there’s also life and growth here too – then my ministry felt, and therefore ended up being, quite different.

So I have a lot of sympathy for John the Baptist in our gospel. It is tough being a fore-runner. You have to prepare the way for somebody else. You do the ground work but only get to hear about the fruition. Maybe somebody else gets the credit. It takes a certain sort of person to have the self-effacing role that focusses on an outcome you will not see. A generosity of spirit, a desire for the greater good, a lack of ego.

But what if that positive outcome is not guaranteed? If you were a forerunner for nothing? John has opposed Herod’s adulterous and incestuous marriage. Imprisoned, downcast, he mulls on his fate.

Did John hope that Jesus would bring victory? Defeat the Roman legions and their corrupt puppet king? When John proclaimed the coming of the Lord, and the wrath to come, did he expect a great cataclysm? The day of the Lord, God’s rule as King, the Messiah enthroned? And for him: freedom, release!

Yet when he heard about Jesus, the stories described something quite different. The man John had himself baptised, on whom he’d seen the Spirit descend, had become a wandering teacher and healer. Jesus called people to repentance, yes, but he also talked about suffering and taking up your cross. John himself asked: ‘So Jesus, are you the one who is to come, or should we wait for someone else?’

I find that rather reassuring – John was so certain when he baptised Jesus, but in the midst of hardship he doubts. Perhaps we can identify with John. I wonder if you have ever been through times which made you question your faith? Personal suffering, or the loss of those close to us, can make us wonder what is going on. Maybe we look at the world around and think that it seems to be going backwards; or we ask ‘if the gospel is true shouldn’t more people recognise it?’ Disappointment is a hard road to travel, yet facing it is part of what makes our faith mature. By God’s grace, it can give us a humility and gentleness which can help us be a lot more use to others.

How does Jesus encourage John? He doesn’t rebuke him, but he focusses on the facts. What is going on in Jesus ministry is a sign. The healings point to a God who keeps his promises. A God who is faithful. Who had foretold this in the Hebrew Bible, and now brings it to pass. A God who can therefore be trusted, even when his ways seem mysterious.

In v.5 Jesus pretty much quotes from the Isaiah reading we heard, and from other parts of that book. Interestingly he does so in quite a literal way. It would be easy to understand Isaiah 35 symbolically: those who could not praise will do so, it will be like the dumb speaking; there will be new life and hope, it will be like the desert in bloom after rain.

But Jesus says, look: the lame do now leap for joy. The blind actually see. How might we then read Isaiah 35 in the light of a creation which is turning to desert? Can it hold out hope that things can yet change? Can we imagine a future where the desert is greened, where there is plenty, abundance and security.

The gospel always surprises. Jesus even goes beyond what Isaiah said. Jesus quotes these various fulfilments and adds one of his own: those with infectious skin diseases are cleansed. This is a remarkable step: the ones who were shut out from worship, those who were excluded from community, will be part of God’s Kingdom. The outcast and the marginalised will find a home. The new world is not just for those ‘like us’, everyone will be offered the invitation. Through Christ’s self-offering death and his resurrection, we are all invited to new life in the Kingdom of God. How will you respond?

The signs of progress may yet be small – remember the first electric cars, how short ranged, how bulky they were? Yet they were the beginning of a transformation. As we look for the signs of the Kingdom of God, they may also be small, but Jesus’ point is that we should trust God’s promises. He has promised and he will fulfil.

In the meantime, the epistle of James gives us some encouragement. Be patient. The winter wheat is in the fields, it doesn’t do much in December, but come July there will be a Harvest. Endure hardship when it comes. Finally, and how directly pragmatic Scripture can be: waiting can be frustrating so don’t grumble at one another!

In this season of Advent there’s a great encouragement here. As we wish for a transformed world, as we long that we ourselves might be more what God created us to be, Jesus give us a concrete hope. John was not mistaken. He was the forerunner. John was the greatest of all the prophets. Yet even the one who is least in the Kingdom of God is greater than he – for they will see the promises fulfilled. Let’s be patient, steadfast, and hopeful as we wait for the Advent promise.