Rejoice?
Text: Luke 7:18-35
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Rejoice—that’s what today is all about in the Church year. The Latin name for this Sunday, the Third Sunday in Advent, is called Gaudete, which simply means “rejoice”. Today our readings have been full of rejoicing. The prophet Zephaniah proclaims, “Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion! Shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem!” St. Paul instructed us, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” The Introit that we chanted at the beginning of service sang the same encouragement. Today on the Advent wreath, we lit the rose pink candle, signifying that this week is a bit lighter in its reflection of why the Lord had to come to this broken, sinful world. For those observing a fast during the season of Advent, this third week of Gaudete calls for a slight relaxing of the fast. We can sense the light of Christmas growing as we get ever closer to the day. So prophets and apostles, saints and angels all sing together, “Rejoice!”
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, we get hit with the Gospel reading about John the Baptizer in prison. King Herod had imprisoned him because of his preaching about right and wrong, repentance and forgiveness, and he had dared to tell Herod that the life he had chosen for himself, taking his brother Philip’s wife Herodias, was wrong. And while John the Baptist wasted away in his prison cell, his cousin Jesus was setting people free from demons and disease, from sin and sorrow. Even though he waited, even though John knew that Jesus was the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, the Son of God who would bring in the blessed age of the Messiah, he was still locked up. So John sent two of his disciples to Jesus, acting as his messengers, asking, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another? Are you the Messiah who will fulfill all those prophetic promises about healing and freeing and rescuing and redeeming, or should we look for another to be the Savior?”
There are basically two theories about why John sent these messengers to Jesus. The first and most obvious is that he himself was starting to have doubts about whether Jesus was the Promised One who would do what the prophets foresaw and give sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, heal the paralyzed, and set the prisoners free. Because John hadn’t been freed, perhaps he was worried that he had hitched his wagon to the wrong horse. The second theory is that John the Baptizer, as the forerunner of the Christ, had no doubts himself, but knew that his followers would be questioning whether this Jesus really was the Messiah; thus, he sent his disciples with a message that Jesus could answer in order to strengthen their faith.
Regardless of which seems to make the most sense, and there are good points in favor of both, there is one common underlying problem that’s being dealt with: doubt and fears, either John’s or his disciples. John sends his disciples as messengers to Jesus because even in the midst of all the rejoicing and celebrating the miracles and signs Jesus is performing, even in those days when the kingdom of God was breaking into this fallen world, there was doubt. There was fear. There was worry. There was despair. There was mourning.
We know this phenomenon well. Whether we call it holiday fatigue or blue Christmas, seasonal affective disorder, or winter doldrums, we know that these days surrounding Christmas aren’t always merry and bright. Yes, we have lots to be joyful about, we have a lot of good things to look forward to. We have happy memories. But we also have things we’re dreading, things that hurt us, that worry us, memories that are sad, even heartbreaking. We lose loved ones throughout the year, or in prior years, and it stings when we don’t see them gathered for this year’s festivities. Celebrations are altered and feel different because of sickness, or a diagnosis we can’t hide from under wrapping paper and tinsel, with worry about what things will look like on December 26 or January 1 or further out. Unexpected sights or words or memories or conversations poke at the sore spots in our soul and it hurts. And to make it even harder, because this is happening during this season of hope and joy, it somehow feels even more wrong, like we shouldn’t be feeling this way. We wonder when—or if—the pain will heal, the depression will pass. We hear the world’s chatter and wonder if maybe all the things we hope for at Christmas are too good to be true, or if our faith is in vain, if it really is about a Child being born to a poor girl and her bewildered fiancé—if that can really change our world. Is God even with us? Is His kingdom going to come to me? If Jesus is the Savior, why am I in this tough spot? Jesus, are You the One who is to come, or shall we look for another?
It’s at this point that we can take one of two paths. The first is trying to handle it on your own, letting the wound scab over and scar. To do this, you can complain about the injustices or you can suffer in silence—both will bring the same result of a hardened and joyless heart, a faith that slows to a thread of a trickle. But that never works. That would be like John the Baptist just sitting in chains in his prison cell, never saying a word, not even praying, only opening his mouth to gripe about Herod and mumble to himself about how his cousin Jesus wasn’t helping him at all.
But that’s not what John did, and it’s not what you should do either. Instead, John the Baptizer shows his disciples, and you, another, better way: talk to Jesus about it. Bring it up to Him, the One you’ve been hanging your hopes on. So through his messengers, John brings his hurt, his worry, his disciples’ fears, directly to his Lord: “Jesus, are you the One we’ve been waiting for to save us from all this, or is there some other Savior?”
And look at the answer Jesus gives. He doesn’t start on a long philosophical answer about why bad things happen. He doesn’t try to convince John and his disciples that things aren’t really all that bad. He doesn’t scold John or his disciples for not believing enough. In fact, Jesus even goes on to say that of all the people who have ever been born of women, that no one is greater than John. So how does Jesus answer those worries? In that hour Jesus healed many people of disease and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight. And this right after he raised a widow’s son from the dead. And then, through messengers, Jesus speaks directly back to John, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
And now, through a messenger, Jesus speaks directly to you: The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the sick are cleansed, the deaf hear, the anxious are calmed, the depressed are lifted, the lonely are befriended, the mourning are comforted, and the dead will be raised. And blessed is the one who is not offended by Him.
Because of your baptism, you are in the kingdom of God. And as our Lord has told us this morning, “I tell you, among those born of women none is greater than John. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God—and that includes even you who are feeling it this season—”the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” Be not like the Pharisees and lawyers and chief priests and scribes, who simply grumble to themselves and others and try to sneak into the kingdom of God through their own works and sacrifices, and in doing so reject the purpose of God for themselves.
Instead, rejoice. That doesn’t mean slap on a fake smile or act in an artificially happy way. It doesn’t mean feel guilty when you aren’t skipping with glee. What rejoicing in this holy way means is that in spite of the trials, the tears, the struggles, that you know the Messiah has still come to you. You can connect that with all the good and joyful things this season has, realizing that those things you love about this time in the Church year have a deeper, lasting foundation in Jesus. Your Savior is coming to set things right—that’s what He did at Christmas, it’s what He’s about to do in His Holy Supper, and it’s what He’ll do at the end of time. There’s joy in that that transcends mere sentimentality or the quickly fading glow of what the world thinks is joy. Joy is found in Jesus, who heals all your wounds, who opens your eyes to see eternal truths, who forgives and restores you completely, who even raises you and all believers from the dead for the never-ending celebration when He returns. In the name of Jesus, who is coming to you in joy. Amen.
