Jesus, are you the one? It is hardly surprising that people missed your coming when even John the Baptist wasn’t sure.
They were expecting such a different kind of messiah. The unmistakable kind. Chauffeur-driven, on a VIP throne, with a gold chain. How could anyone be expected to know who you were when you came in at the back, looking ordinary?
There were plenty who did recognise you, of course: the blind man who cried, ‘Son of David, have pity!’ the disturbed one who screamed, ‘Stay away!’ the woman who touched the hem of your coat, the folk who knew you from the soup run. But are you the one, Jesus? We still have to ask. In a world of paths and promises, how can we be sure? Your reply is your work amongst the sick and oppressed. ‘Decide for yourselves!’ you say – as if it isn’t the doctrines, or even the miracles, but the company you keep and the priorities you hold, and the kingdom of possibilities and joy you unpack amid our ordinariness.
So help us to be on the look-out for your coming, as the people and events crowd in.Open our eyes to see you in the guise of friend and stranger. Whatever the path, wherever the place, however you come to us, may there be recognition. And joyous welcoming.