In Nomine Iesu
St. Luke 7:18-28
December 16, 2018
Advent 3C
Dear Saints of Our Savior~
I prefer to think of him as “John the Great.” Yes, I know, I know. Two thousand years of church history demands that he be identified as John “the Baptist.” But where I come from, Baptists are a dime a dozen, they serve grape juice for Communion, they don’t allow baptism for babies, and every service concludes with an altar call. That’s why I prefer “John the Great.”
But it’s not just me. Back before John was born—back before he was even conceived—back when the Angel Gabriel told old Zechariah that he was going to be a daddy—Gabriel said concerning John, “He will be great” (Lk. 1:15). And in today’s Holy Gospel from Luke 7, Jesus(who knows a thing or two about greatness) said this: “I tell you, among those born of women none is greater than John.” He is John. He is great. He is John the Great.
But it’s interesting that Jesus didn’t call John “great” back when John was at the top of his game—back when all of Jerusalem and Judea were making their way out into the wilderness to hear the wild-eyed prophet with honey-coated grasshoppers between his teeth. No, Jesus called John “great” when John had sunk down into the dark depths of King Herod’s dungeon. And John’s thrilling voice—which had called crowds to repentance and had dressed down the religious elite—that thrilling voice had been whittled down to a whimper: Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another? Dark dungeons have a way of creating doubt and despair. John wasn’t immune to that. And neither are we. So John played the only card he had left. He sent two of his disciples to Jesus to ask: Are you the one? Or should be looking for someone else?
We should actually draw some comfort as we witness John wrestle with his doubts. The Holy Spirit wants us to see this John too; because he’s a lot more like us than the leather-wearing, fiery-eyed prophet we heard from last Sunday. For we have all struggled with doubts. We’ve all wondered whether Jesus can truly keep every promise He’s made to us. Especially when circumstances take an ugly turn—when our expectations, hopes and dreams are dashed—it’s easy to doubt God’s wisdom—to question His plan, His promise, His goodness. Sadly, this is the point where some believers simply decide to walk away from the faith. Because (in their minds) what God is doing—or what God is allowing to happen—seemingly makes no sense at all.
Doubt is faith’s ever-present antagonist. It’s to be expected, after all, for we believe in what we cannot see or prove. My confirmation students have lately been learning by heart Luther’s famous sentence: I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him. If you shorten-up that sentence from the Catechism, what it says is: I believe . . . that I cannot believe. Faith requires the Holy Spirit. Faith comes by hearing, the Scriptures remind us. But there’s constant friction between what we hear from God’s Word and what we see with our own two eyes (or feel in our hearts). None of us is immune to doubt or even despair.
So, thank God for the privilege of seeing John in the depths of doubt and despair. Because John teaches us what to do when we find ourselves in that same dungeon. John doesn’t give up. John, through his disciples, goes to Jesus—takes his nagging doubts directly to the Man: Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another? You, too, can do what John does. You should do what John does. Take your troubles and your doubts directly to Jesus. Lay them at the Savior’s feet. In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to fake it. It’s okay to be real with Jesus.
And as for Jesus—notice His reaction. Jesus doesn’t chastise or criticize John for his doubts. He doesn’t call John a disloyal disgrace. No, in fact, Jesus praises John—extols him—calls him John the Great.
But know this: In the end, there was only one thing that made John great. And it might surprise you. It wasn’t his powerful preaching and the fearless way he spoke truth to power. In the end—when Jesus called John great—John was rotting away on death row; and there wasn’t a thing that John could do for Jesus. And if greatness is to be measured by what we do for Jesus, then we are all great failures together with John.
But here’s how our God gauges greatness: In the end, all that John could do was to believe in Jesus—to trust in the Christ. In the big picture, that’s really all that you can do, as well. But in that believing—in that miracle of faith—you are great. Through faith in Jesus, you possess the very same greatness that John possessed. That’s why after calling John great, Jesus went onto say that even those who are least in the kingdom of God are greater than John. By grace, through faith in Jesus—even weak and feeble sinners like us are considered great in the eyes of God. What makes you so great is that you have received all the blessings of Jesus—all of His love, all of His promises, His peace which surpasses all understanding—His peace which surpasses every doubt and all despair. The forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, the life everlasting—these great gifts of our Lord make you great.
Oh, you probably didn’t hop out of bed this morning and declare, “I feel great!” The truth is you might be feeling disappointed, disillusioned, or distraught. But in the eyes of Him who correctly calibrates greatness, you are great—great because Jesus the Lamb of God has taken away your sin. Your sin has become His. His righteousness has become yours. His greatness—your greatness. His cross—your cross.
Yes, the crosses in your life are much like the cross on which our Lord Jesus bled and died. Those of us who follow Jesus will also have crosses to bear. Jesus doesn’t promise to eliminate those crosses. When John was in prison, Jesus didn’t mount a Special Forces operation to rescue him from Herod’s dungeon. But Jesus does walk with us to lead us through the darkness of death to the light of resurrection life. And in that thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
The pink candle on the Advent wreath reminds us that today is a day of joy and rejoicing. And a little later on this morning, the smiling faces of our Sunday school children will deliver more joy than one pink candle could ever convey. Just remember, joy isn’t the absence of suffering and doubt. At times, we all feel imprisoned like John—imprisoned by life’s circumstances, by illness, by sin and doubt. But even there God gives joy. Remember that Paul was in prison when he wrote about rejoicing in the Lord. We don’t rejoice despite the bad stuff. We rejoice in the midst of the bad stuff, knowing, believing, and trusting that a Savior has been born—that He will deliver you from all doubt. If you believe that, well, that’s greatness in the kingdom of Jesus, and it’s every reason to rejoice in the Lord always.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment