Listen or read the following transcript as D. A. Carson speaks on the topic of Sanctification and Growth from Matthew 11:2–19
Now I would like to direct your attention this evening to Matthew 11:2–19. When I read these verses, you may well ask, “Has Don Carson taken leave of his senses? What has this got to do with mission?” I hope, by the end of the evening, you will see it has everything to do with mission. Matthew 11:2–19:
“When John [John the Baptist] heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him, ‘Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?’ Jesus replied, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.’
As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began to speak to the crowd about John: ‘What did you go out into the desert to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear fine clothes are in kings’ palaces. Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.”
I tell you the truth: Among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it. For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come.
He who has ears, let him hear. “To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others: ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’ For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and “sinners.” ’ But wisdom is proved right by her actions.’ ”
This is the Word of the Lord.
How many of you, in the last month, have gotten up in the morning and looked in the mirror, and said to yourself, “You are greater than King David.” Or, perhaps, “You are greater than Abraham.” You haven’t said that? What’s the matter? Are you so unbiblical? Did you notice verse 11 here? John the Baptist is said to be greater than all who came before him, and the least in the kingdom is greater than John the Baptist.
So the least in the kingdom is greater than John the Baptist, and John the Baptist is greater than all who came before him. Are you one of the least in the kingdom? Jesus says you’re greater than John the Baptist, and Jesus says John the Baptist is greater than Abraham or King David. So that means you are. Why don’t you tell yourself that once in a while? Now clearly, this needs some unpacking, because no one in his right mind would accuse Don Carson of being greater militarily than King David or a greater prophet than Isaiah or a greater patriarch than Abraham.
Yet, clearly, Jesus understands this to be very important. Do you remember how he introduces it? “I tell you the truth,” he says, and then gives these dicta. Now if we put this verse in its context, I think we’ll begin to understand it better and we’ll see how mission lies at the heart of everything. Now we need to back up and see what the flow of the argument is from 11:2–19. We may usefully break it down into three parts.
1. Portrait of a discouraged Baptist.
I am not speaking denominationally. The reference, of course, is to John the Baptist. We’re told, “John heard, in prison, what the Christ was doing, and when he did hear, he sent his disciples to ask him, ‘Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?’ ” Now there are some details in these verses that must to be unpacked.
Normally, when reference is made to Jesus in the Gospels, he’s just referred to as “Jesus,” once in a while as “the Lord,” almost never as “the Christ.” But that’s what’s used here. “When John heard in prison …” And it’s literally, “… what the Christ was doing …” It is the title. Matthew knows who Jesus is, of course, and he wants to remind his readers of the person of whom he is speaking.
“When John hears in prison what the Christ was doing …” The Messiah. The Promised One. “He then sent his disciples to ask this question.” Even this expression “what the Christ was doing” is one of these vague expressions that embraces everything Christ has done up until now. And, in the sequence of Matthew’s gospel, that means the teaching of Matthew 5, 6, and 7, the Sermon on the Mount; the great miracles of chapters 8 and 9; and the great trainee mission of chapter 10.
That’s what Jesus has been doing: teaching and then performing miracles and then training others. When John hears, in prison, what the Christ is doing, he sends his disciples to ask this question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for somebody else?” Now you simply cannot duck the obvious. John isn’t sure about Jesus. He’s discouraged, and the question you have to ask is, “Why?”
I mean, he wasn’t suffering all that badly. He was in the prison at Machaerus, down near the Dead Sea. It wasn’t very nice. It was half underground. It was desperately hot. It was one of Herod’s hellholes. Yet, he wasn’t being whipped every day. He was being fed. He had enough freedom that people could come and visit him. I mean, his disciples came to see him. Then he sent them out. He wasn’t being exposed to torture. He was just being held in prison, for goodness’ sake.
There have been all kinds of believers, both in the Old Covenant and in the New, who have been far more courageous than that, so why is John the Baptist, on the face of it, wimping out? What becomes clear as you read Jesus’ answer is John the Baptist had some false expectations. He expected a certain kind of Messiah. What had he preached?
Well if you go back to chapter 3, we are told what he preached. We’re told, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but after me will come one who is more powerful than I whose sandals I am not fit to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” Then again, verse 12: “His winnowing fork is in hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
He expected a Messiah, in other words, who would come with a kind of authority that would revolutionize everything, empower the people of God with God’s Spirit, but bring about judgment, too, and destruction where there was iniquity. Instead, what’s going on, for goodness’ sake? It’s John the Baptist who confronts Herod. Jesus, meanwhile, is preaching his nice sermons and getting big crowds and acclaim throughout the land, healing people and doing all kinds of nice …
Where’s the fire? Where’s the winnowing judgment? You have to face the fact that when we hear the words “the Christ,” we hear it differently from the way those first disciples heard it. When we hear “the Christ,” we already know how the story ends up. We know the Messiah, the King in David’s line, would also prove to be the suffering servant who would go to the cross and rise from the dead.
But, after all, this is only chapter 11. Even 5 or 6 or 7 chapters after this, the disciples themselves, Jesus’ own apostles, didn’t really get that one together. Do you remember how Peter himself confesses who Jesus is? “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus says, “Oh, you’re blessed, Simon, son of John, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.”
What does Peter mean when he says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”? Is this a full, Christian, post-Pentecost understanding? No, because when Jesus then goes on to start talking about how he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the authorities there and then die by crucifixion and rise again on the third day. Peter thinks he’s going to score some more brownie points, theologically speaking, and he says, “Never, Lord. This will never happen to you.”
Well, how could it? I mean, he’s the messianic King. Messianic kings don’t die; they win. They come with fire to burn up all the chaff on the threshing floor. They come with the Spirit to transform everything. They don’t die a death on a wretched cross, and even when Jesus is hanging on the cross, what are the disciples doing? By this time Jesus has explained again and again and again he’s going to die.
They don’t even have a category for it when he explains it. “Oh, it’s deep. It’s symbol-laden. We don’t really quite understand it. Deep. Deep. He’s always saying things like that, you know.” So they’re huddled in an upper room. What are they saying in that upper room? Are they saying, “Yes! I can hardly wait till Sunday!”? They still have no category for the resurrection. The resurrection catches them by surprise.
You have to face the fact that in the days of his flesh, Jesus’ own disciples still did not have it together that he would be the conquering King and the suffering servant. He would be the Great Priest, and he would be the slaughtered Lamb. He would be the God-made-man amongst us, and he would be the butchered, death-dealing sacrifice. So why should we think John the Baptist knew any more? After all, what he had preached was this lesson of coming judgment.
Now there’s one passage that seems to question that. I’ll tell you what it is. It’s not in Matthew’s gospel; it’s in John’s gospel. Do you remember it? John the Baptist points to Jesus and he says, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Doesn’t that prove he had a really good understanding of substitutionary atonement and things like that? Nope, because a lot of Jews, in those days, actually saw Israel, sometimes, in a very strange metaphor as a kind of warrior lamb.
I’m inclined to think when John the Baptist pointed out Jesus and said, “He’s the lamb, all right. He will take away the sin of the world,” the verb that is used for “take away” is not one that is normally used in sacrifice. He was going to take it away exactly the way he was going to clear his threshing floor.
Now John the Evangelist, the writer of the fourth gospel, who reports this, regularly shows how people, under God’s wise providence, speak better than they know. Do you remember Caiaphas in John chapter 11? “It’s better for one man to die for the nation than for the whole people to perish.”
John comments, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. He wants a kind of substitutionary death, all right, but there was a deeper substitutionary death he was talking about. He didn’t speak just of himself but, borne along by the Spirit of God, he spoke of how Christ really would die for the people of God, and not just for the nation, but gathering together the people of God from around the world.” Caiaphas didn’t mean all of that, but in God’s providence, Caiaphas spoke better than he knew.
I think John the Evangelist, the writer of the fourth gospel, is telling us John the Baptist spoke better than he knew. He predicted a lamb who was going to take away the sin of the world, all right, but it turned out this Lamb would take away the sin of the world in a fashion much different from what even John the Baptist expected. You know what one of the strongest bits of evidence for that? It’s from another writing of John. The Apocalypse. The book of Revelation.
We’ll deal with that on Sunday morning, but in Revelation, chapter 5, we are introduced to the warrior lamb, who is a slaughtered lamb. He has seven horns on his head, which in apocalyptic imagery is always a symbol for the perfection of kingly authority, but he appears as the slaughtered sacrifice, because he is both. He is the sovereign Warrior King, and he is the slaughtered Lamb.
So I suggest to you for reasons that are even stronger yet, that here in Matthew, chapter 11, the reason why John the Baptist is so discouraged at this point, so uncertain, is he’s expecting a slightly different kind of Messiah than what Jesus was proving to be. Now before we think about that, even pastorally, look at Jesus’ response, and this analysis becomes even truer.
“Go back and report to John what you hear and see,” he says to the Baptist’s disciples. “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor.” Now those words are almost all drawn from the prophecy of Isaiah. You know how you get to know a biblical book pretty well, and then if somebody quotes you a few lines, you can quote the rest of it?
Don Carson: “He was wounded for our transgressions. He was …”
Congregation: “… bruised for our iniquities.”
Don: “For God so loved the world that he …”
Congregation: “… gave his only begotten son.”
In what context? You start thinking: John 3, Nicodemus. In other words, you just pick up a few lines and then gradually you can fill in from your memory all of the rest of the biblical context. That’s what Jesus is doing here. Don’t forget John had introduced himself as “the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way of the Lord.’ ” That was drawn from Isaiah 40.
In other words, John the Baptist knew Isaiah. Now he may have known the whole Old Testament very well, but he certainly knew Isaiah. He quoted it more than once. So Jesus identifies himself and his ministry in words taken from Isaiah, and John the Baptist, undoubtedly, when these words were quoted back at him, would have remembered the context.
The words come from two passages. Isaiah 35, verses 5 and 6: “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.” It’s one of these messianic passages that anticipate the blessings of the last days. The other passage is Isaiah 61: “The spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lords has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.”
In other words, Jesus quotes these two passages from Isaiah to describe his own ministry, but the intriguing thing is John the Baptist would have remembered the context of those two passages. He would have known not only the words but the context. In both instances, in the Old Testament context, there is also promise of judgment Jesus leaves out. John the Baptist would have known.
Here’s Isaiah 35 again. Just before the words I quoted, the words Jesus quoted, “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,” we read. “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.’ Then will the eyes of the blind be opened.” Jesus left that bit out.
Or in Isaiah 61: “The spirit of the Lord is upon me. Yes, the Lord has appointed me to preach good news to the poor. Yes, he has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, and so on. To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God.” Jesus left that bit out. John the Baptist would have known it. He knew Isaiah. So what did Jesus think he was doing? Selecting bits out of context?
But you place this within the sweep of Jesus’ teaching, and it becomes very clear what he was doing. Do you see what he was saying? He was saying, in effect, the blessings of the messianic age had started. The blessings of the dawning kingdom were already here. “Look! I am fulfilling these words.” And he quotes the words:
“The gospel is preached to the poor, the lame walk, the blind see, the deaf hear. Don’t you see? But the time of judgment is not yet. Be patient, John. The time of judgment is not yet.” He leaves out those words. Then adds, instead, “Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” In other words, “You have begun well, John. Don’t give up now. Hang in there.”
So here’s the portrait of a discouraged Baptist. Now before we leave this and show how it has a bearing on our text, it’s important to think through exactly why John was so discouraged and what bearing that has on us today. There can be many causes for discouragement, of course. Too little sleep. (Just ask the students at Trinity.) Sustained pain. Bereavement. Disappointment in love. Slander. Lots of things can cause it.
But for the stable Christian, the stable, mature, well-informed Christian, one of the most hurtful, painful, discouraging things is thinking you understand something from the Word of God and then it doesn’t turn out that way. Then you don’t have any categories. George Whitefield, that great eighteenth-century evangelist and preacher, married late, and the Lord eventually gave them one son.
While George himself was overseas, word came to him that his son was very ill. He sought the Lord’s face in intercessory prayer, beseeching the Lord for mercy, and George came to believe God had given him quiet assurance in his heart that God was going to heal him. He believed it and announced it, and then the boy died. George went into a six-month depression. Because, you see, he thought he understood what God was going to do, and when God didn’t do it he had no categories.
How could he understand anything God was doing if he could be so wrong about that? One of the lessons, therefore, for us to learn is how important it is to go back to the Word of God and keep reforming and reforming and reforming our views so we are not being snookered in the way we think about things, so when something devastating comes along we have no categories for it.
One of the things we need to think about, for example, is what the Bible has to say about suffering and death and sorrow and tragedy. Because, sure as shootin’, those things are going to come. If you haven’t suffered much, cheer up. You will. It’s a fallen world. It’s a damned world. Sooner or later, you get kicked in the teeth. If you don’t have the categories for it, when you do get kicked in the teeth, not only are you suffering from the broken teeth, you’re suffering because you haven’t had the categories to make sense of the broken teeth.
So one of the things that is necessary is understanding the diversity and sweep and magnificence and comfort and help and perspective and mystery of this wretched thing we call evil, long before it ever happens. So when the evil day does come, you have a God you can still trust, a cross to which you can still return, a hope that is still eternal. If you don’t have any of those things, then when the suffering comes, it is just unremitting despair. Portrait of a discouraged Baptist.
2. Portrait of a defended Baptist.
What Jesus now does is defend John the Baptist in front of the crowd. Apparently, this meeting between John’s disciples and Jesus took place in front of people who were looking on. The speaking formats were much more informal, out on a hillside or some place, and others were listening in. You can just imagine what some of them were saying with a certain kind of sanctimonious superciliousness. “Ha, ha. We thought better of John the Baptist, but he sort of wimped out. Jesus sure told him off, didn’t he?” You can just imagine.
And Jesus won’t have it. He just won’t have it. John the Baptist bore witness to Jesus. Now Jesus bears witness to John the Baptist. But it is witness, as we shall see, of a very different kind. What does he say? As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus begins to speak to the crowd about John. “What did you go out into the dessert to see? Huh? You heard about this preacher down by the Jordan, and then he was up in the northern area of Galilee.
You went out to hear him by the thousands, and you lined up. You were baptized by him. Why did you go out? What did you go out into the dessert to see? What did you expect? Hmm? A reed swayed by the wind, pushed around by every little movement that came around? Is that what you thought you were going out to see? That’s not why you went out to listen to this man, and don’t you dare stoop to think that’s the way he is to end up.”
That’s what Jesus is saying. He is rebuking the crowd sharply for any misjudgment of John. “So then, what did you go out to see? Hmm? When you went out to see John? Why? Why did you go? What were you expecting? A man dressed in fine clothes? Oh. Somebody who was ever so posh. Well-turned-out. Sophisticated. Nicely educated. And rich, to boot. Is that why you went out?”
Well the texts tell us plainly he dressed in the homespun of prophets and ate the wild locusts and honey that was typical of the prophets from the time of Hosea eight centuries earlier. “You didn’t go out expecting to see somebody who was posh. You went out expecting to hear the Word of God. That’s what you were doing. So don’t you dare start putting him down now.”
“So what did you go out to see then? Huh?” You can feel the crowd getting tight now. “So what did you expect to see now, eh? A prophet? Hmm?” Now the crowd doesn’t know how to answer. They’ve been rebuked twice, and, of course, that is what they expected to see, a prophet. Jesus says, “Yes, indeed. He was a prophet, and more than a prophet.” Well how can you be more than a prophet?
Jesus tells us. He was more than a prophet in the sense that he not only spoke the Word of God, but he was one about whom the Word of God spoke. He was not only the one who spoke the Word of God, a prophet, but the Scriptures had spoken of him. The words Jesus quotes in this regard are not from Isaiah but from another passage that anticipates the coming of a forerunner before the coming of Jesus.
He quotes words from Malachi. “Yes, I tell you, more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you who will prepare your way before you.’ ” Before the final messenger of the covenant, there is another messenger who is coming. He is actually called Elijah by the prophet Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament as it is laid out in our English Bibles.
Malachi predicts the coming of one who will announce the way of the Lord, who will be a messenger before the Final Messenger of the covenant, a kind of Elijah. Indeed, as we go on, we discover in verse 14 that Jesus says, “And if you’re willing to accept it, this is the Elijah who was to come.” We’ll get down to those verses in a few moments. That’s how Jesus said John the Baptist was more than a prophet.
Then he comes to our verse. The first half: “I tell you the truth.” In other words, what he is about to say is extraordinarily important. “Among those born of women, there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist.” Do you hear that? It’s astonishing! Do you see what Jesus is saying? Jesus says, “John the Baptist is the most important man who ever lived. He’s more important than Abraham.
He’s more important than Moses, the one who mediated the Law. He’s more important than King David. He’s more important than Isaiah. He’s more important than Ezekiel, and do you know why? Because he introduced me.” That’s what Jesus is saying. Put it in the context. “He’s a great man because he was not only a prophet but because he was sent by God himself to be the messenger before the Final Messenger. He came to introduce me.”
Now supposing I’d got up this evening, and I’d said to you, “I’m so glad to be back here at the Bible Church of Little Rock. I have an announcement to make. I tell you the truth. Lance Quinn is the greatest man born of woman to this point because he just introduced me.” I suspect somebody would be phoning for people in white coats. I mean, it’s not worth more than a good laugh, is it?
Nevertheless, this is what Jesus says. It’s astonishing, isn’t it? Compare this with what John said when he bore witness to Jesus. When John bore witness to Jesus he said, “He must increase, but I must decrease. I’m only the friend of the Bridegroom. He’s the Bridegroom. I’m not worthy to undo the sandals of his feet. I just baptize in water. He baptizes in Holy Spirit.” Everything John says, when he bears witness to Jesus, magnifies Jesus.
When Jesus bears witness to John, he doesn’t say, “Oh, well, you know. I put that the other way, myself. John is really the greater person. I’m rather inferior myself.” Rather, he says, “John the Baptist is the greatest man born in the human race to this point because he’s been called of God, according to Scripture itself, to introduce me.” The kind of man who says that is either a fraud or a megalomaniac or God. There really aren’t any other choices. He’s not just sort of a good man. Good men don’t go around saying this sort of thing.
But there’s another edge to it. From the way Jesus himself quotes the Bible again and again and again, there is a sense in which Moses pointed out who Jesus is. After all, in John’s gospel he quotes Moses and he says, “The Scriptures speak of me.” He knows full well Isaiah points to Jesus. He knows full well David points to Jesus. He knows full well the high priest points to Jesus.
In all kinds of ways, through typology and words and symbolism.… In all kinds of ways, these Old Testament characters point to Jesus. John the Baptist wasn’t the first one to point to Jesus. All of these Old Testament characters have pointed to Jesus. What made John the Baptist different? Just this: In the peculiar providence of God, in the sweep across this mammoth period of redemptive history, it fell to John, and to John alone, at the end of all of this history to say, “There! That’s the one!” And that’s what made John great. Portrait of a defended Baptist.
3. Portrait of an eclipsed Baptist.
Because what does now Jesus go on to say? He says, “I tell you the truth, the least in the kingdom is greater than John.” Now for this to make any sense at all, the basis of comparison in the second part of verse 11 must be the same as the basis of comparison in the first part of verse 11, or the two parts of the verse do not fit. If you say that John the Baptist is greater than Abraham because he points at who Jesus is, but we’re greater than John the Baptist because we know more or we have more science or we know about nuclear physics or just because we have more privilege, it doesn’t make any sense anymore.
How do you compare greatness and greatness if you’re on different scales? The two parts of the verse don’t hang together. Whatever you’re going to do with this verse, you have to make sure the comparison in the first part of the verse hangs on the same axis as the comparison in the second part of the verse. Then, suddenly, you see what the second part of the verse is saying.
The least in the kingdom is greater than John the Baptist because the least in the kingdom can point out Jesus more immediately and more clearly than John the Baptist could. This is chapter 11. In chapter 14, John the Baptist gets bumped off. He loses his head. He doesn’t know he’s going to lose his head in advance, but he does. He doesn’t live to the cross. He doesn’t live to the resurrection. He doesn’t get it put together the way we have it put together, this side of the cross and the resurrection.
I don’t know you, but if there is someone here who’s been a Christian for three weeks, just three weeks, you may not have such deep, theological acumen that you can give a decent definition of justification yet or distinguish propitiation and expiation, but you can surely say this: “I’m a Christian because Jesus Christ, the Son of God, died on the cross for my sins. He bore my guilt in his own body on the tree. God accepts his sacrifice on my behalf.” Can’t you say that? If you can’t say that, where’s your Christianity?
So you can say more than John the Baptist could say. John’s categories were still Old Testament categories. He hadn’t got it all put together yet. This sovereign, messianic King, this Word made flesh, also being the suffering servant, the Lamb of God who bears sin in two senses? But the least in the kingdom can do that today. That’s what makes us great.
Now that’s what makes sense of the rest of these verses, too. I don’t have time to go through them in detail. Let me just show you the flow of the thought and then reflect on this for a moment within the context of a missions conference, and then we’re done.
“I tell you the truth,” Jesus says, “among those born of women, there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist, yet he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” This next verse is very hard to translate. I’m not going to give you all the options and defend my particular one. Let me just tell you what I think it means. “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing.” That’s the right translation.
“And forceful men lay hold of it.” The two words that are used there, “forceful men” and “lay hold” are both words that are full of rapacity and evil and attack and rape. The idea is, from the days of John the Baptist, when Jesus started with his announcement of the dawning of the kingdom, preaching the coming of the kingdom, the kingdom has been forcefully advancing in the ministry of chapters 5, 6, and 7, and the great miracles of chapter 8, even in the trainee mission of chapter 10.
The kingdom has been forcefully advancing, but instead of a big bang and everything’s over at the end, at the same time, rapists, theologically speaking, evil people, exploiters, have been trying to domesticate it, to control it, to belittle it, to capture it. Anything to put it down. So that you discover, for example, in the next chapter.… Oh, there are some people then who are attacking Jesus and saying, “Oh, yes. Jesus casts out demons, but we know how he really does it. He does it by the Prince of Demons himself.”
Anything to belittle, to destroy, to curtail, to diminish. In other words, instead of the kingdom dawning with one big bang, and then you’re all over into the new heaven and the new earth, what you have is exactly what the whole New Testament says we have. The kingdom has dawned but is not yet consummated. It is here. It is forging its way. It is powerful. It transforms people’s lives, but, nevertheless, there are a lot people who are opposing it tooth and nail.
That will continue until the very end. Then he goes on to say, “All the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John.” That is, they looked forward to the coming Redeeming One, to the dawning of the kingdom, up to and including John. That’s what they did. “And now, if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come, and the prophesied time has appeared. He who has ears, let him hear.”
Even these little vignettes, in verses 16 to 19, are quite lovely to make the same point, aren’t they? You are supposed to picture two groups of children in a market place. One group says, “Hmm. Umm. Let’s play happy marriages. You can be the groom. You can be the bride. You can be the minister. We’ll have some bridesmaids. We’ll have some groomsmen. Break out a guitar, some cymbals, lots of dance. We’ll be happy.” The other group says, “Boring! Don’t want to do that!”
“Oh, well. Ok, ok. I’m flexible. Let’s play funerals instead. No happy music. Let’s have a dirge. You can be the body. We’ll have some pallbearers, and we’ll play solemn music. Somebody can dig a hole. It will be really fun. Play a dirge.” “We sang a dirge for you, and you wouldn’t mourn.” The other group says, “Huh. I don’t want to do that. It’s boring!”
Then Jesus makes the point. “John the Baptist comes along, and his role in redemptive history is to call people to repentance, overtone of a dirge, suffering, getting right with God, making straight the way of the Lord. How did so many of you people respond to him?” Jesus says. “Boring! Anybody that straight-laced, anybody that acidic must be under demonic influence. He’s got a demon.” Then Jesus comes along, and quite frankly, he’s willing to party. He was actually known to turn water into wine. Hmm?
Friend of publicans and sinners. Prostitutes were his friends. Yes, he was known to party. Not always keeping the best company, and you can tell people by the company they keep. What does Jesus say? “Don’t you understand? In the sweep of God’s redemptive purposes, wisdom was displayed in both instances. John had his role to play, and I, the Messiah, I have mine. I announce the dawning of the kingdom.” So here’s the portrait of an eclipsed Baptist. But do you see what that means for us? Let me spell it out in terms of a mission conference.
First, we must see that the deepest Christian criteria for self-assessment, individually or corporately, are not the criteria of the world. What makes you great in your mind? What gives you your importance, your significance? Your family? Your education? Your income? Your race? The comfort zone in this church? Your understanding of Scripture? The size of your library? The bigness of your car? Your muscles? Your strength? Your beauty? Your experience? That’s not what Jesus says.
Paul understands those things can be wonderful gifts, but then he asks, rhetorically, in 1 Corinthians 4, “But what do you have but what you received, anyway?” Is that where you get your self-identity? Is that who you are? Is that what makes you significant? Hmm? Oh, it’s part of the created order. It’s part of God’s good gifts. Be thankful for those things and use them faithfully.
I’m not trying to put them down, but is that what makes you significant in the whole stream of redemptive history? Is that that which, in Jesus’ understanding, makes you greater than Abraham? Nope. Christian criteria for self-assessment are, first of all, radically Christ-centered. We know him.
Secondly, the criteria entail witness to Jesus. We point him out. In other words, in verse 11, the second part is on the same plane as verse 11, the first part. Then what makes us great is not just that we have the privilege of being Christians but that we bear witness to Christ with greater clarity and immediacy than all those that came before us, including John the Baptist, just as John bore witness to Christ with greater immediacy and clarity than all those who came before him.
This isn’t saying the person who is most effective person in evangelism is the greatest person. It’s not saying that. This is not a category of weighing Christians within the kingdom. That’s not quite right. It’s a way of saying all Christians, even the least in the kingdom, we’re told, live at a place and time in redemptive history where the very core of our significance is bound up with the enormous privilege of bearing witness to Jesus Christ. That’s what makes us great in the whole stream of redemptive history.
And this, in Matthew’s gospel, is not, after all, an accidental thought. After all, in the very first chapter, Jesus is introduced as Jesus because he came to save his people from their sins. Already, by Matthew 10 we’re being told of this trainee mission that is preparing people to preach the gospel. In the great eschatological discourse, the Olivet Discourse of 24 and 25, there we’re told this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in the whole world, and then the end will come.
And how does the book end up? With the Great Commission, Matthew 28:18–20. We go and make disciples of all nations because our very identity as Christians, our very significance in God’s sweeping purposes is bound up with the fact that we can bear witness to Jesus more clearly, more immediately than any who came before the coming of the cross.
Do you hear the tone of almost awe (I don’t know what else to call it … wonder?) in what Peter says in his first chapter of his first epistle concerning this salvation? First Peter 1:10–12: “The prophets, who spoke of the grace that was to come to you, searched intently and with the greatest care, trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow.
It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves, but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels desired to look into these things.” And shall we hold our peace?
This does not mean every single Christian is called to be a missionary. It doesn’t mean every single one of us should end up in some remote place like Bangladesh. It does mean the entire frame of reference in which we look at everything is now changed. Oh, we might be brilliant chemists or really first class at bringing in garbage trucks or computer people or workers at home. We could be a wide variety of things, but we never, ever, ever, not ever, let that sort of work orientation shape our entire identity.
Oh, it’s part of who I am. I study Greek. What can I say? I have written a silly little book on Greek accents. It’s part of what I do, but if I ever think that is what defines me, God help me. I have betrayed the gospel itself. So whether you pack pork to pay expenses or you’re a soldier or whether you design town planning or build buildings, it’s all offered up to the glory of God in the full understanding that this is God’s universe, and Christ himself is the reigning king.
Everywhere he plants his foot, and he says, “Mine!” And he will claim it on the last day. Meanwhile, we bear witness to him because we understand he is not only the reigning King and the coming, consummating King, coming in full splendor and glory, he is the suffering servant who bled and died. You have access into his presence because he bore your sins in his own body on the tree. You bear witness to that.
That’s why Christians who grow and walk with Christ can’t help but love mission. They’re part of it. They think in global terms. They cannot help it because they know they are themselves poor beggars telling other poor beggars where to find bread. They can’t think in any other category. Christ himself has become so glorious that silence is no longer possible. That’s what makes you greater than King David.
Shall forests hide their beauty?
Shall rainbows fade to gray?
Shall mountain streams stop dancing?
Shall lambs forget to play?
And shall I keep silent
At grace beyond degree?
Before the cross I count as loss
What once was dear to me.
Shall birds forget their singing?
Shall constellations stray?
Shall thunderstorms be muzzled?
Shall sunlight fade away?
And shall I keep silent,
Ashamed of Christ my Lord?
His holiness and faithfulness
The angel hosts adore.
Shall flowers mask their colors?
Shall waves die in the sea?
Shall full moons turns to darkness?
Shall laughter cease to be?
And shall I keep silent
While basking in his love?
I’ll tell his praise through all my days
And then in heaven above.
Let us pray.
Give us to understand, Lord God, what an enormous privilege it is to know you and be known of you and to make you known. For Jesus’ sake, amen.
