A Tree and its Fruit
Third Sunday of Advent
At the beginning of this discourse, Matthew transitions us to a different setting: Verse 1 reads, “Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.” He is then confronted by the disciples of John who bring a question to Jesus about his identity: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” We might imagine John’s anxiety about this as he sits in prison to eventually die at the hands of Herod. Perhaps he is questioning the success of his own vocation – to be a herald of the Messiah, to prepare the way of the Lord. I imagine his situation has him hoping that God indeed do what God called John to proclaim.
Jesus’ response is as indirect as we have come to expect. Instead of answering “yes” or “no” as we might prefer, we get instead the long answer. But Jesus’ answer might be exactly what drives the rest of the discourse in Matthew 11: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5 the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. 6 And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” Here we receive an important reminder that a tree is known by its fruit, and, as Jesus will say later in this chapter, “wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.” Jesus has provided John with something better than a straight yes-or-no answer; he has borne the fruit of the coming Kingdom and deliverance from the oppressions of the world.
We are likely familiar with the reality that leadership can often claim a certain character while offering no material proof of that character. As it has been said to me, “If you want to know what I believe, you just need to follow me around for a week.” The same is true of identity: if you want to know who I am – or at least what I hope to become – follow me around and see the fruit borne of my habits.
Jesus then directs his attention toward the crowds, and they will be his audience for the remainder of this chapter. We might separate these two scenes because the audience apparently changes, but we would miss the continuing theme. As Jesus addresses the crowd, he draws attention to their intention. “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at?” Jesus contrasts John with rulers in general, and probably Herod in particular. It is kings, like Herod, who sit in palaces with soft robes, and Herod minted coins that depicted a reed blowing in the wind. John is not to be identified with these symbols of aristocracy and royalty. So, Jesus’ question seems to be rhetorical, pointing to the fact that they came to the wilderness to hear someone who is decidedly not in palaces minting money. Why?
Both Jesus and John appear on the margin – Jesus, close to the border of Syria, and John, close to the Jordan, the border Israel crossed with Joshua, presumably in the wilderness north east of Jerusalem. This is not where one would go to find out the plans of the incumbent and hear the expectations of the status quo. The wilderness and the outskirts are where the disenfranchised gather to imagine a world entirely unintelligible to the status quo. It is the space of the undercommons, the place where a new politics of love and mutual care can flourish in this overturned world announced by John and inaugurated by Jesus, the Christ.
Jesus’ ministry is among these very ones whose presence in the wilderness reveals their desire for a world re-made – leveled out with mountains brought low and valleys lifted. And Jesus’ ministry reveals that such a world is being birthed into the old one and beginning the slow work of making this rough place smooth. His answer to John’s disciples asks them to witness the beginning of a world John proclaimed was coming, one that does not exist under the boot of the rulers and principalities like Herod, Caesar, and Roman Imperial occupation. Rather, a time is coming and is now here when the possibility of love, care, healing, and full, equitable, abundant life is possible.