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I heard someone say the imprisoned John who wondered if he was trusting the right person to be the Messiah is a lot like us during Advent.
Can I trust you to fix what’s wrong with my world?
You’re a baby. You seem powerless. I envisioned a king and a kingdom, not a child in a manger. Are you big enough to take on the enemy and put everything right?
Now the Baby is all grown up, but Herod’s House is still up to its old shenanigans. Rome’s flags are still planted in sacred soil. All Jerusalem isn’t going out to see John anymore; he’s a has-been. Yesterday’s news. So last year.
Are you the One?
Charles Wesley intoned the groaning plea of the soul-heavy burden of advential waiting in the lyrics of his resurgent Christmas hymn:
Come Thou Long Expected Jesus
Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.
Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.
▫️Charles Wesley▫️
Keith Getty remarked,
In the third and fourth lines of this first verse, the words fear and rest are juxtaposed reminding us that Christmas is often a time when our fears are amplified…There is often an unspoken pressure that Christmas must be perfect and harmonious, a time when we can stop and rest and have a break from all the usual stresses of life. And yet the reality is that the Christmas holidays don’t always give us the reprieve that we long for — many of us continue to carry huge burdens and difficulties.
A middle school teacher prayed these words in the aftermath of a deadly shooting at her Christian school this week: “In the depths of our spirits we know you are good, but our hearts are so confused. Our hearts waffle between being angry and afraid and being filled with memories and trauma. God, we don’t know how to manage all of that. We’re just coming to you and saying we need you.”
Since Jesus came, the storylines of human history include crucifixion, persecution, attrition, sedition, addiction, affliction, and a host of other maladies and catastrophes. We longed for a new world, but we’ve been given a world of woe.
There’s no way around the fact that incarnation means coming to a filthy and fetid world…Jesus came into a world where some babies are beloved and nurtured, while some babies are left on street corners or next to dumpsters…He came into a world where young girls and boys are sold into prostitution and refugees spend their lives waiting in squalid camps. It’s a world where white picket fences hold together falling-apart marriages.
It’s a world with disease and mental illness. A fallen creation groans with earthquakes, floods, and fires. We’ve made a mess of our lives and our families and this world. And we live with the fallout of other people’s messes too. Drugs. Death. Destruction. Sorrow, unending sorrow. Flies and vultures buzz over little ones with swollen bellies. Sludge freezes solid and becomes a playground for barefoot children. It is all too dirty, and yet he came near.
– Carrie McKean, Filthy Night, Fetid Night, CT Magazine, December 19, 2023
Are you the One?
Let’s hear Jesus in His own words: “Go tell John…”
Tell John what?
Tell him there are things happening he can’t see right now. There are miracles he’s not aware of. Right under your nose, John, all around you, my Kingdom is advancing, and droves of weary, heavy-laden folks are pressing into it.
Remind John that he leapt in his momma’s womb because of days like this.
Thank you, Heavenly Father, that the little children get it. The bent reeds get it. The smoldering wicks get it. Thank you that the least of these will not be left out.
Thank you for a world of woe that makes us heartsick and homesick for Another World. Thank you for the Incarnate Son of God who knew our grief when he wept at his friend’s tomb. Who expended necessary energy for a humiliated woman who couldn’t stop bleeding. Who tore down a blockade of bazaar kiosks to make space for weary pilgrims to pray. Who noticed a widow drop her last coins in the coffer because her God was bigger than her need. Who cast aside protocol and touched lepers.
You can hardly blame John. One doesn’t get a lot of good news down in Herod’s dungeons. Perspective is challenged when your days are numbered. It’s hard to see anything good when all you know is bad. Does Jesus even know about me down here?
I love that Jesus not only has pity for John, but praise. He’s still my guy. Nobody can hold a candle to John. He did everything that was asked of him and he finished well.
Next time you feel forsaken, consider the man down in Herod’s dungeon. Greater things were happening above ground because he played his part. Even though John’s part landed him in prison, facing execution, he would be gloriously resurrected at the Second Advent.
You are playing your part also, beloved. God’s favor rests on you because you have the Son’s Life in you. Sometimes we play a flute, sometimes we sing a dirge but we do it all because the Baby who came is the Sun of Righteousness who will return with healing in his wings. And we will go out of here leaping like calves released from the stall!
Yes, John, he is the One.
Selah, beloved.
