Advent 3: The Doubts of the Faithful

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
December 14, 2025
Matthew 11:2-15

At the beginning of worship:
The Chinese have a legend about a man who strayed into the Land of the Fools. In this new country he witnessed a strange sight. People fled in terror from a field at harvest. “A monster,” they yelled. Seeing nothing alarming, the man ventured into the field and discovered the object of everyone’s fear: an overgrown watermelon. 

The stranger offered to kill the monster. He walked into the field and bravely drew his knife and cut the melon from its vine. Lifting the object of their fear for all to see, he cut it in half. Then he dug out some of the center of the melon and ate it.

The people assumed if this man would eat a monster, he’d eat them too. They grabbed their pitchforks and torches crying, “He will kill and eat us, unless we get rid of him. They drove the man from town.

Later, a second man came into the Land of Fools and the same thing happened. But instead of offering to take care of the monster, this man listed to the people. He tiptoed away from the monster, respecting their fear. Slowly, he gained their confidence. He spent time in their homes teaching them. In time, they lost their fear of melons and even began to cultivate them.^[1]

Which of these two visiting strangers acted the most like Jesus? 

Before reading the Scripture:
Last week I reminded you the lectionary, which I am preaching from for a few months, devotes two weeks during Advent to John the Baptist. In Matthew’s gospel, the first week is John’s ministry of preparation before Jesus began his ministry. The second week is devoted to a time near the end of John’s life. A few years have passed and John’s in prison. With a lot of time on his hands, he wonders if he got things right. He claimed Jesus to be the Messiah, the coming one, but now he’s not so sure.  

Even saints have doubts and it’s easy to become depressed when you lose control of your life and can do nothing to wait. We need to remember that we’re judged based on our faith, not our doubts, for if we are so sure of things, there would be no need for faith.

Read Matthew 11:2-15

As an unborn child, in his mother’s womb, John recognized the embryotic Jesus in Mary’s womb. We’re told John kicked with joy when Mary, Jesus’ mother, visited Elizabeth.^[2]  

On the banks of the Jordan, where John prepared people for the coming of the Messiah, he spots Jesus from a distant and calls out to him. And when Jesus wants to be baptized, John questions the propriety of such an action. After all, he claims not to be worthy to untie his shoes.^[3]

But things change. Reports of Jesus activity spreads across the land. It even reaches John, who sits rotting away in prison. With lots of time on his hands, his mind begins to wander. Is Jesus really the one?

As we saw last week, looking at Matthew 3, John expected the Messiah to come in a fury. He would raise his winnowing fork like a sword, ready to separate the chaff from the grain. John depicts a wicked world filled with snakes and sinners in need of repentance. John sees the Messiah’s job to clean up the Israelite’s act. I’m sure he hopes, like most Jews of the time, the Messiah will kick out the Romans and assumes leadership on David’s throne. But the reports out of Galilee depict a gentle man addressing the needs of the people. So, John sends some of his disciples to Jesus to find out if he’s the one. 

This question from John has caused problems for Biblical scholars and theologians for the last two thousand years. After all, those deemed holy shouldn’t have doubts, should they? Did John forget what he said about Jesus?^[4] From Origen in the second century, to Augustine in the fourth, and on to Luther and Calvin in the 16^thCentury, theologians have pondered this request. They assumed John knew who Jesus was. After all, John picked Jesus out of the crowd. In this understanding, the sending of his disciples to ask this question was to boost John’s disciples’ faith, not his.^[5] But such an interpretation makes a lot of assumptions which are not in the text. 

Instead of theologians, maybe we should turn to poets. 

There lives more faith in honest doubt, 
Believe me, than in half the creeds.

The line comes from a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson.^[6] Faith lives in doubt, not certainty.

You know, John the Baptist was a strange bird. He spent most of his life out in the wilderness, away from the religious and government establishments and the centers of powers. Out there, on the Jordan River, John freely did his ministry. The powers in Jerusalem happily allowed John to continue his ranting if he dealt only with the sins of the common folk. But when John started talking about the sins of those in power, condemning Herod Antipas for marrying his brother’s wife, he went too far.^[7]

Challenging the morals of leaders is dangerous. John ends up in prison. Soon, John will be executed. But now he waits, wondering… “Did I do the right thing?”

Like I said, John may have been like most Jews of his day who saw the Messiah as a militant leader pushing through his agenda and not withholding the use of the sword. Maybe he hoped Jesus would raise a band of men and free him from jail. So, we must wonder about Jesus less-than-direct answer to the question on his identity. Jesus tells John’s disciples to go back and tell them what they see: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the dead raised… This list echoes a list from Isaiah and the teachings from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.^[8]  

There’s something interesting thing to note in this list of things Jesus recites as proof as to his identity. Such a list, we assume, goes from minor to major miracles. Jesus starts off with the blind seeing, the lame walking and builds toward the dead being raised. But then, he talks about preaching to the poor. It seems the later would be easier than all the others, but Jesus places it in the place of prominence. Perhaps evangelizing the poor is more important than everything else.^[9] This is something we, who make up the church, should ponder.

After John’s disciples leave, Jesus heaps praise on John to the crowd around him. He begins in his classic way of asking a rhetorical question. “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind, or a man in fancy clothes. The reed may be a reference to Herod Antipas, who had a palace on the Dead Sea and had coins printed with the image of reeds. If this is the case, Jesus’ metaphor of the reed may have contrasted the weak reeds of political leadership with John, the one who spoke truth to power.^[10]

Jesus suggests John is a prophet, but even more than that as he represents Elijah. And don’t forget, Elijah spoke the truth to power as he addressed the sins of Ahab and Jezebel.

If you recall, instead of dying, a fiery chariot swept Elijah off his feet and whisked him away.^[11] Many Jews, to this day, leave an empty seat at Passover for Elijah. Jesus suggests John’s role is like Elijah, preparing the way for the Messiah.

Probably the most difficult part of this passage to understand is verse 12. Our text reads, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and violent people take it by force.” But the passage can also be translated as “From the days of John until now the kingdom of heaven has been coming violently.”^[12]

This translation could be referring to the many violent revolutions occurring before and after Jesus’ life. The revolutionaries attempted to throw off Roman bondage and reinstitute a Jewish state. They finally succeeded in 66 AD, the year Herod’s temple was finally finished. But it was short-lived. The Romans returned in in 70 AD, defeating the Jews and destroying the temple. 

But violence wasn’t in Jesus’ plans, as he makes clear in his response to John’s question. Maybe John, sitting in prison, hoped Jesus would change his mind and pick up the sword, but Jesus sends back a message which focused on his mercy and kindness. 

As we wait during the season of Advent, we need to remember why Jesus came. The Prince of Peace, he avoided violence, even at the end by telling Peter to put away his sword.^[13] He spent time connecting with people. Like the stranger in the Chinese legend I shared at the beginning of worship, he gently taught people what’s important. 

During Advent, we long for the cosmic Christ to return and do battle with the forces of evil, but we shouldn’t forget that our Lord’s greatest strength comes from his gentleness and his love. And as his followers, we’re to emulate his behavior as outlined in his reply to John. Amen.

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^[1] William R. White, Stories for the Journey (Minneapolis,  Augsburg Press, 1988), 107-108.

^[2] Luke 1:41.

^[3] Matthew 3:13-17. See also Luke 3:16-17 and John 1:29-30.

^[4] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1992), 120.

^[5] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1987, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 506

^[6] Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, XCVI, as quoted by Malcom Guite, Waiting on the Word (London: Canterbury Press, 2015), 50.  

^[7] Matthew 14:3-6

^[8][8] Isaiah 61:1 and 35:5. Hare,121 and Bruner, 507.

^[9] Bruner, 508.

^[10] Hare, 122.

^[11] 2 Kings 2:1-12.

^[12] Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and Theological Art, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), 209.

^[13] Matthew 26:52, Luke 22:49-50, and John 18:10-11. John’s gospel identifies the disciple who drew his sword as Peter.