Worship - 14 December 2025

Summary of this week's theme

It took us almost a year to discover why our two-year-old would point to a certain stretch of road and say, ‘The Rainbow Tree.’  Eventually we realised that we had all been focusing on one property of a rainbow, without considering the whole thing. That small moment has stayed with me, because children often do this to us: they unsettle our assumptions, shake our presuppositions, and open our eyes in ways we didn’t expect.  When Jesus tells us to become like children, I believe he means this openness — the capacity to see differently, to notice what adults overlook.

It is easy to miss what is right before us because we are looking for the wrong characteristics.  In today’s gospel, John the Baptist is stuck in prison, facing a grim future, and wondering whether he has misunderstood everything.  He had preached a Messiah who would bring justice with fire and force.  But the reports he heard about Jesus didn’t match that expectation at all.  No burning chaff, no fiery sermons — just blessings for the poor, forgiveness for enemies, and compassion for outcasts.

So John sent messengers: ‘Are you the one, or should we wait for another?’  Jesus did not answer directly.  Instead, he simply pointed to what was happening: the blind see, the lame walk, the poor hear good news.  And then comes the challenge: can John believe, even though Jesus has not done the one thing John longed for — freeing him from prison?  It is another ‘rainbow tree’ moment: an invitation to see differently.

John was not the last to struggle with a Messiah who wins by losing.  We too often want a Christ who fixes things quickly, who defeats the wicked and rewards the faithful.  But Jesus shows a different way: victory that comes through vulnerability.

I recently read a minister's account of a Christmas pageant from his childhood where they used a real baby Jesus.  At the line, ‘No crying he makes,’ the baby let out an ear-splitting scream.  Mary (his sister!) turned and shouted at him to be quiet — which, of course, you’re not meant to do to Jesus!  But the minister later said that as a child he preferred the crying Jesus.  If Jesus could be upset, then he could too.  So can we. 

The birth was messy; the ministry was messy; even John wrestled with confusion and disappointment.  Yet the promise remains: God is at work, slowly but surely.  Isaiah’s barren places will bloom.  God makes a way where there seems to be none.  Our task is to watch for the signs, even when they don’t look quite like what we expect, and to work together patiently for Christ’s kingdom of justice, peace, and joy.