The prophet Isaiah paints an upbeat scene for us when he proclaims, “Those whom the Lord has ransomed will return and enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy; they will meet with joy and gladness, sorrow and mourning will flee.”
Will that idyllic setting include you and me? That is our hope as we gather here in prayer. Jesus said in the closing lines of Matthew’s gospel, “Amen, I say to you, among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” Imagine that, no matter how insignificant we may feel in the sight of others, by virtue of our baptism, we are numbered amongst the greatest for we have been graced by God to confront the power of sin in our lives. The joy and gladness of God’s kingdom can be ours.
Yet there is a catch here. Baptism itself is no guarantee to our salvation. I share that caution with parents who ask to have a child baptized. I remind them that baptism is the start of a life long faith journey whose outcome isn’t decided until we cross the threshold of death. There will be times along the way when our relationship with Jesus will be tested. If we keep in mind that no friendship can grow, much less survive, without the mutual efforts of both parties, we can see that sustaining our relationship with Jesus, especially when our expectations are not being met, demands attention and effort on our part.
John the Baptist had his disillusioning moments. Sitting in a prison cell, he is no longer certain if Jesus indeed is the Messiah. Many of the Jewish people were anticipating a mighty revolutionary leader who would overthrow the Romans and restore Israel as a powerful kingdom. He sent his disciples to ask if Jesus is the one who is to come or if they should expect someone else.
Jesus replies, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” Jesus knows that such a litany will not meet every one’s expectations of the messiah even though what he is doing resonates with Isaiah’s image of a messiah.
Perhaps John the Baptist was reminded of the passage from Isaiah that we just heard when he hears Jesus’ response to his query. Still I suspect that he was surprised by what he heard. Jesus said nothing about sinners being condemned, the temple destroyed, or enemies defeated. The fire that Jesus came to light was the warm and gentle fire of God’s love, not the raging inferno of God’s anger that John had alluded to in his ministry. What John and the rest of us need to remember though is that final bit of advice spoken by Jesus, “And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”
Unfortunately, a fair number of our fellow Catholics have done just that. They have taken offense to some teaching of the Church, ranging from birth control to purgatory, thus taking offense at Jesus for the Church speaks today on behalf of Christ. Or they have taken offense to the human side of the Church, choosing instead to forsake what the Church has to offer by walking away from its sacraments, its tradition and the faith community itself.
James advises us to be patient until the coming of the Lord. Some of us are and some of us aren’t. Our response pretty much depends on the role we allow Jesus to play in our daily lives. Those who believe Jesus is the one who can save us, discover through prayer that Jesus has come to free us for an unfettered life of peace, joy and love. Those who don’t endeavor to deepen their relationship with Jesus tend to live their faith minimally, if at all. As a result, they may find themselves left out in the cold someday when they meet Christ as suggested by an anonymous poet who wrote this variation of “The Night before Christmas.”
‘Twas the night before Christ came and all through the house
not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
in hopes that Jesus would not come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
not once ever kneeling or bowing a head;
And mom in her rocker with baby on her lap,
was watching a late show while I took a nap;
When out of the East there rose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter;
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
threw open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The light of his face made me cover my head,
it was Jesus returning like he said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw him in spite of myself.
In the book of life, which he held in his hand,
was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as he searched for my name,
when he said, “It’s not here!” my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to his Father above.
With those who were ready he rose without a sound,
while all the rest were left standing around.
I fell to my knees, but it was too late:
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight.
Oh, if only I had been ready tonight.
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,
the coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There’s only one life and when the last name is called,
we’ll find that the Bible was true after all.