While John the Baptist was in prison, he sent his followers to ask Jesus: Are you the one, or are we to wait for another?
Now this is peculiar. John knew that Jesus was special. In Luke’s Gospel, we are told about the time that Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth. Both women were pregnant, Mary with Jesus, and Elizabeth with John. We are told that John leaped in Elizabeth’s womb when Mary and Jesus drew near. Even before his birth, John sensed somehow that Jesus was special. {See the readings for this Sunday}
And then it was John who later baptized Jesus in the Jordan River, pointing out to all around him that Jesus was the one who was promised, the messiah, the Christ, the one who would baptize with fire and the Spirit.
So why this question? Surely John the Baptist knew that Jesus was the one.

I think he did know, just as we know it. But it’s important that the events in today’s gospel portion happen while John is in prison. He was locked up. He was vulnerable and scared, I imagine. Maybe his zealous faith was slipping, so he sent his disciples to secure a sign from the Lord.
Even great prophets need to know that God is with them. It happens to all of us.
Even if we have been lifelong Christians, devoted disciples of Christ, rock solid in our theology, faithful readers of our Bibles, at church every week, there come those days when our faith is tested. They are unwelcome and stunning days, when the solid earth feeds unsteady and all that seemed so certain starts to slip away – When somebody dies, when somebody is ill, when a marriage ends, when a job ends, or like John, when we find ourselves in prison of one sort or another.
It’s those moments when we most need Jesus that we wonder if he’s really there for us. Are you the one, Lord, or are we to wait for another?
Jesus sent a reply back to John. It was a litany of his miraculous works. The lame walk, the blind can see again. Jesus has done these things. They are recorded in the Gospels. They are signs of the presence of God-given power in Jesus the man. They are the signs that were promised by the prophets. Isaiah told us that in today’s first portion.
You can tell the Lord is with you because everything seems to get fixed. You can tell the Lord is with you because the wounds start healing. You can tell the Lord is with you because all those things that your heart desires start to come true. All those good things:
You’ll be in the wilderness and the desert, and you’ll find water all of a sudden!
No more drought! No more thirst!
You’ll be traveling on a road in the wilderness and it’ll be a Holy Road. There will only be God’s people on it. And nobody shall go astray. I love Isaiah. No traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.
And nobody will be eaten by lions.
What a wonderful world it sounds like. Oh, come Lord Jesus and bring us this world you promise!
You can tell the Lord is with you because it’ll be a life of peace, and plenty, and wholeness, and ease. Wouldn’t it be nice if things were easy for once? Everything feels like such a struggle. It can feel like everyone is just treading water, trying to keep our heads above water. Or maybe not for you, maybe you’re fine, but you know people who are struggling. Violence in our schools. Violence that of course just comes from someone’s struggle. We must pray for our children, my friends. And listen and love them. They are struggling.
I just found out about my friend Mark Ash, back in Kansas. I worked in Diocesan youth events with him. We were at camp together. Mark committed suicide a few days ago. People are struggling.
And the politics these days. The divisiveness. The lack of trust in any sort of authority — well, that’s nothing new. We heard that in our psalm today:
Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, *
for there is no help in them.
When they breathe their last, they return to earth, *
and in that day their thoughts perish.
You can’t trust the rules, nor in any child of earth. Who do we trust? Who do we turn to?
Doesn’t it just feel like the world is heavy these days?
When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”
This is a critical question. See, we Christians say yes: Jesus was the one the world was waiting for. It’s Jesus who brings the kingdom of God to earth. It’s Jesus who heals and restores and comforts and saves and gathers us in to the love of God.
But that promised land of peace and plenty and wholeness and ease feels pretty far away sometimes.
But here it is that I sound like a broken record, because the resurrection always creeps in to every aspect of this Christian life. Jesus who died on the cross shows us that death is not the end of the story. The suffering of this life is not the end of the story. The struggles of today are not the end of the story. Nothing that you can describe as the end of the story can possibly be the end of the story except for one thing: the glorious return of Jesus.
But that day is yet to come. It is yet to come. There is every reason to hope but that does not mean that the tears of today are not real tears.
James told us great wisdom: “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient.”
We have every reason to hope but we need encouragement. John was in prison and he knew he knew that his cousin Jesus was his savior. He knew it like we know it, in theory. But he was in prison, and he could do with a reminder: are you the one? Tell me you’re the one. Lord, I need you to be the one.
Jesus, remind me today that you’re the one. Give me hope. Reach me in my prison and tell me it isn’t going to be prison forever. Give us a sign of hope.
And here is our sign: Mary is pregnant. She and Joseph make haste to Bethlehem. The savior is on the way. Soon there will be baby. And in a world like ours it now, a world like it was then, the birth of any baby is an act of courage, of defiance, of trust, and of hope.
Let hope return to your hearts, my dear ones. Christmas is coming.