Not What We Ordered: The Messiah We Didn’t Plan For

 Not What We Ordered: The Messiah We Didn’t Plan For

Sermon by Alan Swartz
Third Sunday of Advent, December 14, 2025
Preached at Ebenezer UMC and Black Creek UMC

Scripture References: Isaiah 35:1-10; Psalm 146:5-10; Luke 1:46b-55; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

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Introduction: A Question from Prison

Advent is a season of longing, of waiting, of anticipation and desire. But as it calls us to look forward, it is also a season of questions. Today, the gospel gives us one of the most honest and urgent questions in all of Scripture, posed by none other than John the Baptist. Here is the fiery prophet, the fearless preacher who prepared the way for the Lord, now sitting in a prison cell. He is in chains, in a place of darkness, just days away from being executed, and from there he sends a message to Jesus.

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Matthew 11:3)

This is not a polite theological inquiry. This is a raw, human question from a man in chains, asking, “Jesus, are you really who I thought you were?” You see, John was waiting, as all of Israel was, for a Messiah who would liberate them. What was the expectation of a Messiah? It was for one who would overthrow the bondage of the Roman Empire and break the yoke of military occupation. John’s question is born of suffering, confusion, and deep disappointment.

It is an Advent question, a human question. And it is a question that exposes the fundamental difference between the real Christ of the gospel and the superficial, cultural version of God that our world celebrates. We see this version all around us, from the Christmas songs that begin playing right after Halloween to the saccharine, Hallmark version of what Christmas is all about. John’s question cuts through the noise and forces us to ask: Are we waiting for the Christ who truly is, or for a Messiah of our own making?

1. A God Who Makes Life New, Not Easier

You see, the world wants a savior that makes life easier. This is a common cultural misunderstanding of faith: the belief that God’s primary purpose is to ensure our personal comfort. The world has no room for suffering or confusion; it tells us that God wants you to be happy, for your life to go smoothly, and for you to feel good about yourself.

But John’s life is not going smoothly. His life is not easy. His life is certainly not comfortable. He is in prison, suffering and disappointed. And when his disciples bring his question to Jesus, Jesus does not apologize. He offers no sympathy for John’s hardship, saying, “Go back and tell John I’m so sorry things have turned out so badly for him.” Instead, he offers a report from the front lines of his ministry:

“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” (Matthew 11:4–5)

That’s what you tell John, because that’s what the scriptures say to look for in the Messiah. In these words, Jesus is saying, “I am the Messiah—but not the one you expected. I am the Messiah you need. I am not here to make life easier. I am here to make creation new.” This is the Word of God in Isaiah 35 coming to life before their very eyes: “The eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped… and the ransomed of the Lord shall return with singing.”

The gospel does not promise comfort; it promises redemption and new creation. Even though we may sing of comfort and joy, the gospel promises a new creation. But what does this new creation look like in our lives? It begins not with the world's standard of niceness, but with God's call to holiness.

2. A God Who Makes Us Holy, Not Nice

Our culture often reduces Christian morality to simply being nice—polite, positive, and well-adjusted. This dilution of the gospel transforms its radical call into a set of gentle suggestions for self-improvement.

Now, I want to make this real clear. I am not saying being nice is a bad thing. Please don’t go from here and say, “Our preacher said we don’t have to be nice.” That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that that's not what the gospel is about. Because sometimes Jesus got in the face of people, especially the religious people who were putting demands on the poor and taking advantage of widows. He would get in their face and call them snakes, vipers, hypocrites. That wasn’t so nice.

The core of the gospel is not niceness; it is holiness, a far deeper and more demanding reality. We see this powerfully in the Magnificat, Mary’s song of praise, which is anything but polite, tame, or nice. She sings:

He has scattered the proud…
He has brought down the powerful…
He has lifted up the lowly…
He has filled the hungry with good things.
(Luke 1:51–53)

This is not a song of gentle affirmation; it is a declaration of divine revolution. This is holiness breaking into the world. Mary’s song announces a “revolution of grace,” the overthrow of sin, injustice, and oppression. It is a proclamation that God is not content to leave the world in its wickedness. The world desires a God who affirms us just as we are, but the gospel reveals a God who transforms us into a new and holy people, aligning our lives not with the world's timetable, but with his.

3. A God Who Teaches Patience, Not Adheres to Our Timetable

Now, we all know what it's like to schedule. We have our calendars, our planning books, our apps on our phones and tablets that sync across every device. We plan our world out into nice, neat categories, and most of us here today try to fit God into a slot on Sunday morning. This mindset fundamentally clashes with the biblical virtue of patience.

The world wants a God who works on our timetable, one who provides quick answers, instant relief, and immediate inspiration. But the gospel reveals a God who teaches us to wait. As the apostle Peter says, “A day in the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years is as a day.” (2 Peter 3:8) And as James writes to the early church:

“Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord.” (James 5:7)

Advent is the season that trains us in this holy waiting. It teaches us to trust, to endure, and to be patient. James gives us models for this endurance: we are to be like a farmer waiting for the rain, like a prophet waiting to receive the word of God, and like John himself, waiting with integrity in a prison cell. True worship forms an active patience in us—not passivity, but the deep, abiding confidence of a people who know that God is faithful, even when we cannot yet see the harvest on the horizon. This requires us to let go of our own expectations and make room for a Christ who continually surprises us.

4. A Christ Who Surprises Us, Not One Who Fits Our Expectations

There is a universal human tendency to try and shrink God down to a manageable size, to create a deity in our own image that fits our preconceived notions. The real Christ, however, shatters these self-made molds.

John the Baptist expected a Messiah with an axe in his hand, one who would come to burn away the chaff and violently overthrow the Roman regime. Instead, Jesus heals the broken, blesses the poor, and eats with sinners. Maybe that is how Jesus put the axe to the root. His method is not destruction, but radical, restorative love. It is no wonder, then, that he issues this gentle challenge:

“Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” (Matthew 11:6)

The gospel is often offensive to our categories because it flips the world’s power structures upside down. Here on this third Sunday of Advent, we celebrate with Mary the joy that comes from the gospel. We see God breaking our expectations again and again.

• We hear of a virgin who sings of revolution.
• We hear of a desert that blooms like a garden.
• We see a prisoner who is a prophet.
• We see a carpenter’s son who is the Messiah.
• We see a crucified man who becomes King.

True worship does not attempt to shrink Jesus down to our expectations so we can manage him. No, true worship expands our hearts to receive the real, surprising Christ who comes to us on His own terms.

Conclusion: What Kind of Messiah Are We Waiting For?

We return to John’s honest, urgent question from his prison cell: “Are you the one who is to come?” Today, Advent asks us the same thing. And Jesus gives us his definitive answer, not in a theological treatise, but in a command to witness the evidence of his kingdom breaking in:

Look at the healing. Look at the mercy. Look at the justice. Look at the joy. Look at the new creation breaking in.

This is not the God of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism or shallow Cultural Christianity. This is the God of Isaiah, Mary, James, and John. This is the God who comes to save, to sanctify, to renew, and to restore.

So, in this Advent season, let us put aside the shallow expectations of the world. Let us put aside the saccharine movies that you see on the Hallmark channel this time of year and embrace the deep, transforming hope of the gospel. Let us worship not the God we imagine, but the Christ who comes.

Let us wait with patience. Let us sing with Mary. Let us hope with Isaiah. Let us trust with John.

Let us rejoice, for as the prophet promises:

“Here is your God… He will come and save you.” (Isaiah 35:4)

+ In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

https://biblehub.com/q/what_is_moralistic_therapeutic_deism.htm

https://biblehub.com/q/what_defines_cultural_christianity.htm