Our gospel today is very striking. We might expect joy to come wrapped in certainty and confidence. Instead, we meet John the Baptist in prison, uncertain and questioning. This same John who had proclaimed with such fire, “Behold the Lamb of God,” now sends his disciples to ask Jesus: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John’s question is deeply human. Advent is not only about joyful anticipation; it is also about honest waiting – waiting in darkness, in confusion, in suffering. Many people today know something of John’s prison: illness, grief, disappointment, unanswered prayer, or a sense that God has not acted as expected. Jesus does not rebuke John. He does not offer a theological explanation or a dramatic sign. Instead, he points to what is happening: “The blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” In other words, look at the fruits. God’s kingdom is already breaking into the world – not always with power, but with mercy; not with spectacle, but with healing; not by removing all suffering, but by entering into it and transforming it. This is an important Advent lesson. We often look for God in the extraordinary, while God is quietly at work in compassion, forgiveness, justice, and hope. The Messiah does not meet every expectation, but he fulfils God’s promise in a deeper way. Jesus ends with a gentle but challenging line: “Blessed is the one who takes no offence at me.”
Advent asks us: Can we trust God even when he comes differently than we imagined? St. Francis of Assisi as a young man went through some powerful moments of anxiety and sadness. He did not know which way to go or what to do. Then one day kneeling before the crucifix in Assisi he heard the voice of Jesus, which gave him the courage and wisdom he needed. In Assisi on another occasion, Pope St. John Paul II was adressing a group of young people and they gave him a standing ovation and he turned to his secretary saying that he needed this affirmation.
Can we rejoice even when we are still waiting for answers?
Then Jesus turns to the crowd and speaks tenderly of John. Despite his doubt, John remains great – not because he is flawless, but because he points beyond himself. Advent is not about having perfect faith; it is about directing our hearts toward Christ, even with trembling hands. On this Gaudete Sunday, our joy is not naïve or shallow. It is the quiet joy of knowing that God is faithful, that light is already breaking through the cracks, that the prison door will not have the final word. So as we continue our Advent journey, let us rejoice – not because everything is resolved, but because the Lord is near. And let us learn to recognise him in the signs he gives us: in kindness offered, in hope restored, in the poor who hear good news, and in hearts that dare to trust again.