“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” (Matthew 4b-5)
Many
years ago, I had the honor of taking part in the Lutheran/Roman Catholic
Dialogue. Our topic that year was “Ministry to the Dying.” Both Lutheran and
Catholic clergy agreed on one point: we rarely minister to the dying here in
America. Nope. Most folks like to believe they’re going to beat whatever
illness or disease they’ve got. They know they’re going to die eventually, but
just not today or this week. By the time it becomes obvious they’re about to
shuffle off this mortal coil and shake hands with the Lord, they’re usually too
out of it for any theological discussion.
Every
once in a while, however, we get a chance to minister to someone who knows just
how many grains are left in their hourglass. Most of the Christians I’ve met
who were in that situation were ready to move on and did so with impressive
courage and grace. It’s no longer fashionable to walk these short-timers
through the Kubler-Ross stages. It seems much kinder and more worthwhile to
review the life they’ve already lived and focus on the highlights.
I
don’t know about you, but if or when I know I’m about to check out, I’d like to
know my life has had some significance. I always think of that scene at the end
of Saving Private Ryan where the old vet stands amidst the graves of his
fallen comrades and asks his wife if he’s been a good man.
When
we meet John the Baptist in the gospel lesson in the RCL for Advent 3, Year A
(Matthew 11:2-11) he’s pretty sure he’s reached the last stop on the line.
Prison in the ancient world wasn’t a punishment with a prescribed duration. If
you were in jail, you were either awaiting trial or execution, and John had a
real good guess which one he was waiting for. You have to feel sorry for the
guy. He’s been spending the last year or two telling everybody that Jesus is
the Messiah. Now, chained or in wooden stocks, sitting in a dark dungeon with
no light or air, he’s got nothing to do but think about his life. He’s starting
to worry if he got it right.
But
John deserves some credit, too. He’s at the end of his life (a little earlier
than he’d planned, of course!) and he’s in a state where he’s confined and
can’t get around anymore, he can’t see much, and he depends on others to visit
him and take care of him—just like many of us may be some day. He might be
doubting if Jesus is really the one, but he never doubts that there will be
a one. He never stops believing that God is going to send a Messiah or that
God’s people will know a day of liberation. As rotten a time as he’s having,
his faith is still present.
He’s
fortunate in another way. He still has friends who come to the jail to look
after him. In Bible times there was no guarantee a prisoner would even get fed let
alone a change of clothes or clean water. John has not been abandoned by either
God or his disciples. Granted, these guys aren’t going to be able to spring him
from the slammer, but at least they show up and let him know he’s still loved,
still valued, and still important to the movement. They may not have the
answers he needs, but that’s okay. 90% of caring for another is just showing
up.
So
these loving brothers (and maybe sisters) of John’s posse head off in search of
Jesus to ask point blank if he’s the Lamb of God who is going to take away the
sins of the world. Jesus—in typical Jesus fashion—doesn’t give them a straight
answer. It seems to me the Lord always likes it when we figure stuff out on our
own based on the evidence. “Go tell John what you see going down,” he tells
them.
They
could, of course say, “Well, Jesus, we see a good and decent (if slightly
eccentric) preacher being silenced by a corrupt and incompetent ruler because the
ruler doesn’t like what the preacher has to say. We see a gigantic empire swallowing
up just about everything so it can transfer wealth to its already wealthy
plutocrats. We see and hear the Pharisees talk their pious platitudes while the
widows and orphans go hungry and the sick and leprous are excluded from
society. We see a lot of crappy things, Jesus.”
But,
even if they’d said that, Jesus would remind them. “Look a little harder. Do
you see the sick being healed? Do you see the poor being recognized and lifted
up? Do you see the dead being raised? The people who had become comatose with
hopelessness have started to believe God has a plan for them and God’s kingdom
is with them. Have you seen that? Go tell John that.”
Jesus
goes on to praise John. “John was the real deal. He was a mensch. He told the
truth to the powerful and he didn’t back down. But great as he is, the lowest,
poorest, least able sinner in the Kingdom of God is just as precious. Even more
precious, because God loves and has compassion for the weak.”
Sometimes
it looks like the whole world is circling the drain. Sometimes it seems like nothing
you do has mattered. But it has. You may not see it, but God has seen it. Tiny
works of charity, infinitesimal deeds of mercy, little seeds of righteousness
are growing quietly but surely. We need to see the whole picture, keep
believing, and rejoice for what the Lord has already done.
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