So, in many action movies there is a trope that often plays out. And if I were to film a movie, here is how it would go. Somewhere towards the end of the movie, it's time for the final shoot-out or battle when the good guys finally catch up with the bad guys. The bad guys are holed-up is a large rusty abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town.
The good guys finally find the place, and then the final plan comes into play.
And most important to every action movie – there is one – the cool hero. This is the guy who always knows just what do. This is the character that Bruce Willis plays in the "Die Hard" movies, or Vin Diesel in the “Fast and Furious” movies, or of course Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry.
And then someone will ask, "What's the plan?" And the cool hero will say something like this: "I'll go around back. You come in from the front. But don't make a move...until I give you the sign."
Then someone has to ask the next question, "What will the sign be?" And the cool hero always answers, "Oh, you'll know." Then he disappears around the side of the building. And everyone waits.
Eventually though, something blows up or our hero drives through the side of building in a borrowed cement truck at which point everyone knows...THAT was the sign, and they all go into action. And cut. The hero wins. Movie over.
But life is almost never so that clear. We are always awaiting signs that will give us confirmation or clarity as to what we should do with our lives. This is true even in our walk with God. Because in the life of every believer, every one of us, there is a moment, and normally not just a single moment but sometimes reoccurring moments...but there is moment when we question, when we find ourselves asking God, “Is that really what you intended?”
John the Baptist has this kind of moment in our gospel reading today. John has known that God has a plan in motion. And John had a role – he understood it clearly. His role was to prepare the world for the plan. He was to preach and baptize and prepare the world for someone who is coming...someone who will bring about the reign of God...someone who will transform the world to be what God intends the world to be.
So John worked hard. No one worked harder. He was preaching and baptizing, and people – lots of them – were repenting and turning to God. Then suddenly John is arrested. He is sitting in prison, unable to continue the very ministry that he truly believed he was called to. He's lost, he's alone. He's confused and he's frustrated. He looked for the big, unmistakable sign that the coming cool hero would bring, but he hasn't seen one.
Instead, he sees Jesus. Jesus is just going about his business, teaching and preaching, but the world is not transforming in the way that John had expected.
So he asked his question. He has his disciples ask Jesus, "Really? Is this really the plan? Is this it? Are YOU the one? Really? Are YOU the one I have been looking for? It this it? Is this all there is?”
And Jesus' answer is probably not what John was expecting. John probably thought the sign would be much clearer when it finally came. But Jesus, in his answer, points not to world transforming occurrences but to very small events. Now these events may have very well have been miraculous, but they weren't earth shaking. They were very intimate and one-on-one, individual experiences.
Jesus does not respond by saying what is happening at the level of nations or governments or populations or lands. He says look closely and see what is happening in the lives of people: I am at work on a very intimate level. Someone who was blind can now see. Someone else who was lame can now walk. Yet another person who was deaf can now hear. Someone who's had the good news brought to them and now feels hope. I am not a giant mountain...I am the reed by the riverbank in the wilderness that you overlook.”
Reeds. Last week, I talked about the importance of something as simple as chaff in protecting grain. And now, this week, Jesus is talking about reeds. These unobtrusive, bendy plants. But they are plants that provide homes to animals and birds and fish. They are plants that provide instruments of writing, instruments that will one day put ink to scrolls and record the Gospels themselves.
And most importantly, they are plants that keep silt from clogging up the life-giving Jordan River, keeping God's people alive.
And they bend. When bigger things in the world snap and break under the heavy winds of conflict and politics, of wars and invasions, the reeds bend and sway, doing their job quietly, determinedly...and importantly.
A reed is not the cool guy in the movie; it's not the rich or powerful king or president, commanding armies and ruling over lives. A reed just quietly is out there, waiting for us to see it, waiting for us to stop overlooking it.
This is not who John was looking for. But this is who John found. Someone who is crucial to our lives, who is the very foundational part of our lives. And so often, I think we, like John, make the mistake is believing God's faithfulness and power is normally found in the moving of mountains, but it's not. God's faithfulness is almost always seen in something that the world sees as inconsequential, like a reed on a riverbank, like a gentle touch on the shoulder of a hurting friend, like the kind word to a worker who has had an awful day, like reaching out to offer someone we don't even know – or would normally not know – a helping hand, or a blanket, or a coat. Something as inconsequential like a reed on a riverbank.
We prepare ourselves this season of Advent for the arrival of a child in a manger in the middle of nowhere. We light one more insignificant candle as a growing light against a world of darkness. We wait and we pray, and like the hymn says, we wonder as we wander. And during this time, let's take this time to remember that when life is dark, when we are lost, when we turn to God and ask, "Really? Is this it?" – in those moments, be alert. Be aware. Look around. You are not alone. Mountains are not moving, no, and the cool good guy is not going to bust down your walls with a cement truck.
But God is there, on the river bank of your life, steady, waving in the wind, clearing the way for the waters of salvation to flow through your soul.