Dec. 14 - Jesus, who are you?
Contributed by
Jacob Liechty, senior English major from Dublin, Ireland on Thursday December 13
Scripture
Matthew 11:2-11 When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus answered them, "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. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me."
As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: "What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then 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, 'See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.' Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.
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Devotion
So John's disciples came to Jesus and said, "Who are you?"
A couple years ago I would have been eager to answer them on Jesus' behalf. I would have said, well, Jesus is a leader, a wise man, and a prophet. He's the bravest, most loyal, most revolutionary person in the world. He's Messiah to the Jews, Christ to the Gentiles, Lord and Savior to all who chose to follow him. He's the closest you're going to get to God. I was sure of that. But since then, things have kept happening to me. I spent a semester in Mali through Goshen's international Study-Service Term, and had a hard time there, a really hard time.
I remember coming home and finding clumps of my hair in the drain after I would shower. I remember my grandmother telling me that my skin looked gray and having to give blood samples and urine samples and stool samples at clinics. I remember thinking, "My God, how sick am I? Am I going to be sick forever?" After that, I remember being tired for a long, long time. Some evenings, I didn't want to do anything except sit with my back against a wall and watch my fingers moving back and forth. I wasn't sure of anything any more. All I knew was that I didn't want Jesus the leader or Jesus the wise man or Jesus the prophet, because I was too exhausted to be a very capable disciple. What I wanted was the Jesus who would touch me on the chest above where my heart turns and say, "Jacob, it's alright. "Stay here with me, and rest."
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