Here is the Advent devotion that I wrote for my church (based on Matthew 11:2-11):

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” This question makes me think of a few situations. A high school senior applies for early action at a couple of universities. If one offers them a spot, do they accept or wait? Is this the one, or do they wait for another?

Then there’s the single person, who’s tried dating apps, been setup on dates through friends and family, have had several dates that didn’t progress very far. The person they are currently dating has been great, so far, it’s been a few months. Is this the one? Or is the right one yet to come?

Or there’s the job seeker, whose had good interviews at a couple of potential firms. One offers them a position, but they haven’t heard yet from the other. Is this the one, or should they wait on the other?

Perhaps you are thinking that these scenarios are superficial compared to John the Baptizer, and you would probably be right. On the other hand, the three examples above tend to be “big” decisions in peoples lives. The school you choose shapes you for the long haul. The partner you have is potentially for life. And we spend many, many hours of our days in the workplace. John the Baptizer had invested everything he had in the belief that Jesus was the Messiah. At the point in Matthew’s gospel story, John is in prison for his beliefs. John could not go to Jesus because he was locked up, so he sent others to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Was John now doubting if Jesus was indeed the Messiah? Or was his question more, “if you are the Messiah, why am I imprisoned?” We don’t get to be inside John’s head. In fact Matthew’s gospel doesn’t tell us much more about John, except that in the end he is beheaded for speaking truth to power. Is that what the world would look like under the rule of the Messiah?

Before coming to Seventh Avenue Presbyterian Church, I, along with my wife, had spent over 20 years planting and pastoring a church in San Francisco. My family and I gave everything–heart, mind, and soul, time, talents, and treasure–to our faith community and our mission to be God’s presence in the neighborhood and city. Our departure from this labor of love, our community and relationships, was unexpected–though, looking back, at least for me, necessary. Did this experience case me to doubt?

“Did it rock my faith?” was what someone recently asked me, after hearing my story. I was struck by the question, so I brought it home to ask my family, including my children. Did it rock your faith? With a quizzical look, not quite connecting with the verb “rock” but getting the sense of the question, they each said, “no.” But it did shake our sense of what to expect from the church, which is the body of Christ, “the continuing incarnation of God in the world.” Yes, we had a high view of the church. That view was indeed shaken, and we have had to reset, step back, heal, and slowly re-enter.

The John, who we encounter in Matthew 11, was confused and struggling. Why else would he ask, “Or are we to wait for another?” I thought you were the Messiah. How do I put together that you are the Messiah with me being imprisoned (and later beheaded)? In a strange way, John’s story can be comforting. How can Jesus be Messiah, and the world be as messed up as it really is? Jesus answers the question by pointing to some other things that are happening under the noses of the powers, “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” These two realities are taking place at the same time. The powers continue to wreak their havoc, but God’s new world is also breaking in. Christ Jesus inaugurated this new world, and it is real. Look for the signs. Taste of its goodness. Take heart. God is near.