Third Sunday of Advent | 14.12.2025 | Matthew 11:2-15 | David H. Brooks | 

Matthew 11:2-15 English Standard Version Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles

¹¹When Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and preach in their cities.

² Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples ³ and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” ⁴ And Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: ⁵ the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers^[a] are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. ⁶ And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”

⁷ As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds concerning John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? ⁸ What then did you go out to see? A man^[b] dressed in soft clothing? Behold, those who wear soft clothing are in kings‘ houses. ⁹ What then did you go out to see? A prophet?^[c] Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. ¹⁰ This is he of whom it is written,

‘Behold, I send my messenger before your face,
who will prepare your way before you.’

¹¹ Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. ¹² From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence,^[d] and the violent take it by force. ¹³ For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John, ¹⁴ and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. ¹⁵ He who has ears to hear,^[e] let him hear.

–A MESSIAH FOR THE REST OF US–

If you are a fan of the comedy Seinfeld, then you are probably familiar with the holiday (or, more accurately, anti-holiday) that the show introduced in December of 1997: Festivus. Invented by the bad-tempered father of one of the characters, the Seinfeld gang readily embraced the quirky holiday as a “Festivus for the rest of us.”

However, Festivus has real-life roots, for it was created by the father of one of the show writers to push against the perceived pressures and commercialization of the Christmas season. Even funnier, the originator of this observance coined “festivus” as the name because it sounded quirky and offbeat, not realizing that it is an actual Latin word meaning “excellent, jovial, lively.”

Gives a real twist to the airing of grievances, doesn’t it?

Perhaps you won’t be surprised if Jesus senses some pressure in this moment as he is quizzed by the disciples of John. Earlier in his account, Matthew says that John is deferential to Jesus, responding to the Lord’s desire to be baptized with a plaintive “you should be baptizing me.” But now, John is in Herod Antipas’s dungeon, and from that small, dank space things that once seemed certain look less solid.

Matthew says that it was because he had heard of the Lord’s deeds that he decided to question Jesus. John had preached that one was coming with an axe and with fire, and warned his audience that it would do no good to proclaim your ancestry, assert your education, your credentials or your expertise, or even point to your desire to be right with God—your confession of sin is worthless without deeds demonstrating the same! The one who is approaching—the Messiah, God’s Anointed—would bring righteous judgment and punishment.

While John’s expectation conveyed in his preaching spoke of God’s righteous judgment, the public’s expectations were more straightforward. The Jews of Jesus’s day expected a political/military leader, someone who would free them from the hated Romans and give them back their home. Rooted in the memories of the House of David, fed by apocalyptic writings that looked for God’s vindication of his chosen people, and egged on by the regular appearance of Messianic imposters, those that followed Jesus—including his own disciples—held out hope that Jesus would reveal himself as the hero the people desperately desired.

But Jesus does not capitulate in the face of pressure, whether from the populace or his own cousin, whom Jesus himself declares to be a prophet and more so. Pushing against the expectations, Jesus declares that the truth of his anointing is found in what is heard and seen, echoing the words of Isaiah 61 that declared the one anointed by the Spirit of God would

• Proclaim good news to the poor
• Heal the brokenhearted
• Grant liberty to the captive
• Pardon to the condemned

From there, he turns to the crowds, asking them what was it that they were seeking out there in the wilderness that was so important; important enough to draw out Pharisees and Sadducees! Jesus gently probes their messianic expectations, pointing out that what they are seeking is not found in places of power or prestige—in fact, politicians of every age are reeds in the wind (weathervanes my grandfather called them) ready to turn in any direction depending on who was blowing hardest—the people, the moneyed interests, or the powers behind the throne.

So, what do we do when Jesus does not meet our expectations? Has it ever seemed to you as if the Gospel, if all that Jesus talk doesn’t really work in the real world? But that’s an odd question, if you pause over it a moment. What would “really working” look like in the world? In your life? In the lives of your loved ones, your friends, your co-workers, your fellow citizens, your bosses, your leaders?

But maybe that is too big a question, too hard to know.

What I do know is that I prefer to think like those in the crowds that chased after the Lord—I expect him to be a problem solver, whether that problem is something I’m facing in my own life or that the wrong guys are in charge.

I prefer to think like the Pharisees and Sadducees—expecting that if I believe correctly, live correctly, then Jesus will ensure my life goes smoothly, with no financial disasters, no family implosions, no health crises, no fights with the neighbors, no lawsuits.

I prefer to think like John—that I understand fully what God has shown me, told me, promised me and I am impatient when it does not unfold as I wish or get others to do what they should.  I’m more worried about me being wrong, rather than others might not get right with the Lord, and I expect Jesus to give those who oppose him their comeuppance.

I heard long ago that whenever we find ourselves disappointed with life, we should pause before we get angry, or sad, or indifferent. Perhaps what is happening is not because something in life has failed us, much less that God has failed us, but rather that our expectations for life and the God who makes life possible have failed, collapsed under the impossible weight we put upon them.

Goodness, I almost forgot—the unexpected beatitude that Jesus pronounces. “Blessed are those who aren’t offended by me.” Or, to frame it as a positive, “those who accept/embrace me.” In this beatitude, Jesus echoes the next verse of Isaiah 61—to proclaim the year of God’s favor.  God’s favor and grace is at work in the land through his servant, and blessed are those who don’t stumble or grumble over God’s lovingkindness, but understand that Jesus has not come to those in fine houses, or who have their lives together, or who know that they are right—Jesus has come for the rest of us.

For John was not wrong—the appearing of the one to come would mean God’s vengeance. Only that vengeance was poured out on the man who came proclaiming good news, healing, freedom, restoration. Rather than cutting down like trees countless lives, God’s judgment hung on one solitary tree—that we might enter into God’s embrace, know God’s grace and celebrate the true, jovial, lively, excellent fest.

Amen.

©David H. Brooks
Pr.Dave.Brooks@zoho.com
Grace Lutheran Church
Durham, NC USA