Misinterpreting Jesus
Matthew 3:1–12
December 9, 2007
University Christian Church, Seattle, WA
Rev. Sandy Messick

I think John the Baptist may have been disappointed in Jesus. If we ever discover his personal journals in a cave somewhere, I think John’s writings may have been something like this:

Dear Diary: Today I preached and baptized out in the wilderness. I announced to everyone that the One who was coming after me was coming into the world, and that he would clear away all the chaff and baptize with Fire! I really told off those self-righteous Pharisees. It was a good day.

Dear Diary: I baptized my cousin, Jesus the other day. I thought for a moment that maybe he was the One! After he was baptized, I heard some thunder rumbling and thought I heard God saying “This is my beloved son!” But then Jesus took off into the wilderness. It’s been nearly 40 days now and no one’s heard a word from him. So maybe he’s not the one. I’m still looking for the one with the Winnowing Fork.

Dear Diary: I’ve started hearing things about cousin Jesus. Apparently he gave a sermon and in it said things like “Blessed are the meek and blessed are the peacemakers.!” Whoever heard of such a thing! And then I heard he’s been doing some healings, but he’s healing people like lepers, and Roman servants (I hate the Romans) and even some blind dudes. People are starting to talk. They’re saying that maybe he really is the one. If so, I wish he’d break out that winnowing fork and bring on the fire. That’s what I’m waiting for.

Dear Diary: Not much to do while I’m stuck here in prison. I’ve been obsessing a lot on this whole Jesus thing. Is he, or isn’t he? I’ve sent my messengers out to ask him, “Are you the one, or do we keep looking?” We’ll see what he says.

I think John the Baptist may have been disappointed in Jesus.

It seems that he had an image of who Jesus would be, or rather who The One Who was Coming would be, and Jesus didn’t seem to live up to that image. So John began to wonder.

We all have images of Jesus and who we think he was and ought to be. We pick and choose the stories from scripture that fit our image of Jesus and then ignore the others. The monastic monks hold up Jesus and point to times he went off by himself to pray. The liberation theologians point to the Gospel of Luke and Jesus’ preference for the poor. The pacifists hold up Jesus and recall his command to love your enemies. The just war people hold up Jesus and recall when Jesus said “I came not to bring peace but a sword.” The social service advocates hold up Jesus and remind us that he fed the hungry and clothed the naked. The Social Justice advocates hold up Jesus and point to times he challenged those in power. Those who proclaim his message as one of individual salvation point to their passages where Jesus told people to “go and sin no more,” and argue against those who see Jesus as proclaiming a social salvation where he taught people to pray for God’s will on earth as it is in heaven. And when we talk about Jesus, are talking about the Jesus of history who died on a cross, or the Christ of Faith who rose from the dead. Are we talking about the human Jesus who lived on this earth, or the Son of God who will come in glory?

Who is your Jesus? We all remake Jesus, reinterpret the stories about Jesus, hold on to the parts we like and skip past the parts we don’t.

John the Baptist, well he liked the judging Jesus, the one with the winnowing fork who preached repentance.

But most of us prefer the peace-filled Jesus who offered forgiveness and who modeled not triumphant judgment, but grace-filled obedience. And if we have to acknowledge the winnowing fork Jesus at all…well, we want to make sure it’s pointed at someone else and away from us.

The truth is, of course, that Jesus was both. Hard to acknowledge sometimes. Jesus was both the one who came offering forgiveness and peace, and the one who held up the mirror to our souls and showed us how our actions block peace. Jesus was both the one who calls us to repentance, and the one who offers us grace and forgiveness when we do repent. Jesus was both. And when we emphasize one to the exclusion of the other, we risk misinterpreting Jesus.

Today is the second Sunday of Advent. It is peace Sunday and inevitably the story of John the Baptist shows up in our lectionary readings. He doesn’t seem to fit here. He doesn’t fit with our images of peace and a peace-filled Jesus lying in a manger. He doesn’t seem to fit with the warm and fuzzy images of peace we put on Christmas cards or sing about in our carols. And yet he is here every year. Reminding us. Challenging us. That peace isn’t about warm and fuzzy feelings, it’s about making sure God’s shalom, God’s peace is experienced by all of God’s people. John the Baptist reminds us of the Jesus who isn’t content to leave us in our apathy or self-righteousness, relying on God’s grace or our position as God’s children, but who challenges us to acknowledge the ways that we stand in the way of peace: through the grudges we hold, the self-interests we are ruled by, the narrowness of our vision. The ways we block peace in our racism, or sexism, or ethnic or cultural bias. The ways that we self-righteously proclaim that if only everyone were as smart, or as civilized, or as liberal as us, the world would have peace. The ways that we benefit in this society from a lack of peace around the world: from cheap goods made at the expense of sweatshop or forced labor, or oil imported from foreign lands, or dictators or oppressive governments we let slide because it’s in our best interest to ignore it for now. Maybe John was right when he preached a word of repentance, because if true peace is to be experienced in the world, it will have to begin with the acknowledgement of the ways we have blocked peace. Maybe the very fact that this passage makes us uncomfortable reminds us that it has something to say to us. Maybe it challenges us to see the ways we limit our understanding of Jesus and the message he proclaimed in the world. A message that is one of both comfort and challenge. Both repentance, and reconciliation.

Many churches have a tradition of passing the peace each Sunday. They turn to one another and say “The Peace of Christ be with you,” and the response is “And also with you.” So I say to you today: May the peace of Christ be with you, but not just with you, but with all the world. And not just a peace that makes you feel warm and comfortable, but a peace that is filled with assurance and grace, and most of all hope and possibility not just for us, but for all of God’s children. That’s the kind of peace we pray for. That’s the kind of peace Christ called for. And I believe, that’s the kind of peace that even John the Baptist proclaimed. By God’s grace and power, may it be so. Amen.

Sending Forth:

We are sent;

In the name of the God,
the Father of the Poor;
In the name Jesus,
the Son of Justice;
In the name of the Spirit,
the spirit of Love;

To live God's promise
that transforms and makes us new;
signs of hope
to all who struggle for a new world
of justice and peace.

May we be steadfast in faith,
untiring in love
and joyful in hope,
until we gather again.

AMEN.