“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” Proverbs 13:12

I’ve always been a collector. When I was a toddler, I would stuff bags full of supplies and treasures and guard them as if my life depended upon them. I had to literally drag around my beloved blue duck purse because it was simply too heavy to be lifted.

Old habits die hard, and I find that I still collect heavy things. Ministry and motherhood offer front row seats to sentient souls experiencing significant highs and lows. Thus, in seasons, I find my soul overburdened from carrying not only my own built-up daily disappointments but also the heavy disappointments of those that I love. In such a state, the Spirit led me to study (yet again) a particularly poignant moment in the life of John the Baptist recorded in Matthew 11.

When Stalwart Faith becomes Tenuous Trust

John the Baptist was not known for his weak faith or trembling spirit. As the son miraculously given to Elizabeth and Zechariah (and thus Jesus’s cousin), John the Baptist seems to have been set apart from the womb (Luke 1:5–25). When Mary ran to visit Elizabeth to tell her the strange news of her visit with the angel Gabriel, John leaped in his mother’s womb in Spirit-enabled recognition of his Messiah (Luke 1:39–42). John not only gave himself to his role as the forerunner to Christ, but he was also present at the baptism of Jesus. Christ literally pressed him to officiate the baptism, and he submitted (Matthew 3:13–15). He saw the dove descend (Matthew 3:16). He heard the Father’s proud commendation of his Son (Matthew 3:17). He gladly redirected his disciples to follow Christ, “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29).

The man was a spiritual giant, albeit a strange one who wore scratchy camel’s hair garments and stuck to a diet of locusts and honey (John 3:4). Yet, in Matthew 11, John has been sitting in prison for weeks after being arrested by Herod for calling him out on his incestuous decisions. He has heard news of the miraculous advance of very kingdom he spent his life announcing, yet he remains stuck in prison. His once-stalwart faith has become a more tremulous trust as his expectations of the kingdom and Christ’s actions are no longer in alignment. Thus, he dispatches two messengers to ask Jesus a trembling question: “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Matthew 11:3).

Dealing Faithfully with Disappointment

The honest humanity of John in this moment brings tears to my eyes. Anyone who has spent his or her life serving God in honest devotion only to be dealt with a dream-shattering disappointment understands the question. John was brave enough to voice his doubt and to bring it directly (or as directly as possible for one in prison) to Jesus.

The commentator Ellicott wisely notes, “What John the Baptist needed was not the knowledge of new facts, but a different way of looking at those he already knew.”

John asked the question of Jesus because he knew that Jesus was, indeed the Messiah. The dissonance between John’s hopes for what Christ’s kingdom would look like and what it actually meant (especially for him) pressed him directly to Jesus, begging him for clarity and reassurance. If you truly are the Messiah who can heal diseases and bring dead people to life, why are you allowing these painful circumstances? Such questions are actually proof of faith not a lack thereof.

Denying the dissonance or putting on a false smile is not a faithful response to deep disappointment. Naming our disappointment and bringing it before him with trembling hands displays the trust that honors God, even if it feels weak and tenuous.

Rough Ways, Soft Heart

Jesus’s response shocks me. He doesn’t publicly shame his cousin for his weak faith; rather, he publicly commends him:
“Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matthew 11:11).

He reassures him of the facts of the signs and the wonders that confirm him as the Messiah, but he also reassures him of his love and tenderness (Matthew 11:4–6). He gently reminds him that he will be blessed if he doesn’t trip over the seemingly offensive ways Jesus goes about advancing his good will: “And blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (Matthew 11:6).

Jesus seems to understand that his ways often offend our flesh and confound our minds. His thoughts aren’t our thoughts, and his ways aren’t our ways (Isaiah 55:8–9). They are higher, but they sometimes feel lower, don’t they?

Jesus response to John the Baptist reassure us that even when his way seems rough, his heart is soft. John knew the Scriptures that pointed to the Messiah. He knew that Isaiah prophesied one who would bring good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives and open the prisons of those who were bound (Isaiah 61:1). Yet, as he sat in a physical prison, he wrestled with the way Jesus went about fulfilling those very prophecies.

John would be cruelly beheaded, but Jesus would join him in dying an even more cruel and undeserved death. Jesus had more in store, not less. John simply couldn’t wrap his mind around the scope of the Savior’s work. We, like John, will wrestle with the rough ways God brings about his perfect will. We will struggle to understand his hands (the way he works in the world), but we can always trust his heart which is seen most clearly on the cross.

And when we struggle to do so, we are invited to drag those heavy doubts right into the very throne room of God where Christ sits as our great high priest. Like John, we won’t be met with shame; we will find an empathetic and truth-filled priest who was also the sacrifice slain on our behalf (Hebrews 4:16–18; 7:11–14).