Isaiah 35: 1-10 Matthew 11: 2-11
We tend to seek the wrong kinds of messiahs in the wrong kinds of people and even when we find someone whom we think will do, we never give them enough time to save the world.
Donald Trump may have worked this out when he didn’t manage to end the war in Ukraine in 24 hours as he had optimistically suggested he might.
Whatever we think of Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves, they probably need more than 18 months to settle an economic crisis as deep-rooted as the UK’s current financial woes seem to be.
If we want jam today, we won’t find it in the corridors of power and, if it’s ever offered to you via that route, it may taste more like the yeast of the Pharisees.
Jesus warned us against the yeast of the Pharisees and never promised us jam today which is what the crowds who lined the roads into Jerusalem at the beginning of Holy Week thought they would be getting from their knight in shining armour.
Even the followers of John the Baptist don’t quite get it right when they ask Jesus if he is some sort of divine messenger like Elijah. Even their brief and relatively innocent question is brushed aside by Jesus because he sees through it. He is not the king on a white charger who will ride triumphantly through the crowds exercising sovereignty and wielding judgment. This messiah is come to bring blessing on the needy. And, if that doesn’t disappoint you, you are blessed for it.
Yes, Jesus is a prophet; yes, Jesus is a messenger; yes, Jesus is the greatest human being: but even the lowliest of the low is greater than him.
By turning expectations on their head, Jesus turns the world upside down. It’s hardly surprising. His mother Mary said that he would do all these things when she is told that she will bear this man for all the people 30 years before in her startling prophecy which we call the Magnificat.
He has come to bring blessing on the needy: to fulfil prophecy after prophecy of Isaiah and be the one whom the Spirit has anointed to bring in the peaceful kingdom and to release us from everything that holds us back from being the people God intends us to be so that we can set the world on fire.
At one level, it’s not terribly exciting – especially if you’re relatively comfortably off. What use is a messiah for the needy to me? But, as the King reminded us yesterday, 50% of us will be diagnosed with cancer in our lifetime and the chances are we will experience needs to be fulfilled as our spirit empties itself out in the face of bad news. And, when that happens, no amount of economic growth will carry us through as effectively as the one who bears our burdens with us because he cares for us: the one whose messiahship brings blessing on the needy.
Advent is a time to consider what it is that holds us back from being the people God intends us to be. It’s like being on the cusp of the possibility of new beginnings – but not quite there yet. It’s a time of letting go and learning new living. It’s a time to listen more carefully to the voice of God and try to gain greater clarity by doing so. It’s a time to turn away from sin and be faithful to God. It’s a time to look for new ways of seeking peace and maintaining it. It’s a time to forget about knights in shining armour, to get off the white charger, to divest oneself of the soft robes – and live a life of faith with greater edge, depth and no small degree of recklessness.
This afternoon, after we have blessed the nativity scene at the Font, we will invite some local friends formally to light the Christmas tree. Each year, we ask people on the edge to press the button that floods the tree with starry lights – each twinkling with delicate hope that the world could be different ands that we can indeed be the people God intends us to be. Each speck of light a spark to the tinder that may yet set the world on fire. Syrian refugees have lit our tree; Ukrainian children fleeing the sound of gunfire; hard-pressed doctors and nurses form the NHS; a homeless charity; clergy from Jerusalem at the height of the Gaza conflict; a proud miner from our industrial past who knows he still matters.
This afternoon, a Christian priest and a member of Mothers Union who minister in a local prison will remind us that there is no door beyond which Christ will not venture in order to bring people back to the knowledge of his love for the needy.
We are all needy people and jam today won’t fulfil our deepest needs.
As we wait for the land of promise, let us ask Jesus to teach us ways of new living, to lead us to where we hear God’s word most clearly, to renew us and clear out the wastelands of our lives, to prepare us for life in the awareness of Christ’s coming when the desert will sing and the wilderness will blossom as the rose.