“It’s Enough”

Second Sunday in Advent

December 7, 2025

Isaiah 43:19-21

Matthew 11:1-11

Children’s Message:

How do you know that Christmas is coming? What kinds of evidence is around? (Trees, lights, music, sales)

So, that evidence is enough to convince you that Christmas is close?

Today, we heard about John the Baptist, who had been arrested and was in prison. He sent friends to ask Jesus if he was the one they had all been waiting for. The Messiah. The Savior. What kinds of evidence do you think would convince you that Jesus was the one sent by God?

Jesus told John’s friends to pay attention to the signs and tell John what they saw. Do you think they saw trees and lights and big sales in stores? No, they saw blind people who could see, and disabled people who could walk, and deaf people who could see, and dead people who were given life. Do you think that was sufficient evidence to convince John that Jesus was the one?

Is it enough to convince you?

Let’s pray. Dear God, you showed us who you are through Jesus. Help us believe and follow you. Amen.

Message:

“Are you the one we’ve been waiting for, or are we expecting another?” I understand why John asked the question. He had spent the past several years preparing people for the Messiah. And he, like the other Jewish people, had certain expectations of what the Messiah would be and do. There was the hope that, through the Christ, God would bring the Israelites once again out of slavery. Out of oppression. Out of Rome’s occupation.

And John was ready—ready for it all. He didn’t pull punches when it came to calling out injustice among the people. Even targeting Herod for his immoral behavior—having an affair and marrying his brother’s wife. Which is why John was in prison. People in power don’t like it when some common person brings their corruption to light. Things like this must be dealt with. “Lock him up,” Herod said.

So, faithful John, cousin to Jesus, finds himself behind bars. Because he wouldn’t bow to corruption. Because he believed that the Messiah was on the way to restore God’s justice in the land. And maybe—or maybe not—he trusted Jesus to bring down the power of God and vindicate him.

I imagine John waiting in the cells and wondering, “What happens next? Was it worth it?” Was everything John had said and done and sacrificed worth it? Did he make any difference, at all? Will Jesus make any difference?

So he sent messengers. “Are you really the one, or is there something I missed?” You can hear the hesitation and fear—even despair—behind the question. “If it’s not you, what am I doing here?” I get it. I’ve asked similar questions. Am I Christian only because I happened to be born into a Christian family? Is it all a nice story—but with no real teeth? And if it’s all true, why are we still dealing with the same horrible tyranny two thousand years later? What difference does it make?

Jesus tells us. “Go and tell John what you’ve seen here today. Look, those who were blind can see; those who could not walk can walk; those with disease are cured; those who are deaf can hear; those who were dead are raised to life; and those with nothing have received the Good News.”

Naturally, Jesus didn’t just say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ He gave evidence to his work. He let the messengers be his witnesses. What have they seen? They’ve seen people being made whole. That’s no small thing. In fact, that’s everything. That’s salvation. Literally. That’s what sozo in Greek actually means. To be saved is to be made whole. Complete. Nothing to do with heaven or escaping hell and damnation. Simply being restored.

That’s what the Messiah came to do. Not to conquer. Not to get revenge. Not to put people in their place. Not to vindicate the wronged—as much as we’d like to see that. He came to restore people to their God-given purpose: Love.

And that is enough. In her book, “Hope: A User’s Manual,” MaryAnn McKibben Dana gives the example of Jésus, a day laborer who was diagnosed with cataracts. A church in the area had taken on the ministry of helping these laborers with access to care. Day laborers live hand-to-mouth. No benefits. No security. Only work. And when something happens—they get sick, have an accident, or need healthcare—they’re simply out of work. No work—no pay. Period.

So, this church found out about Jésus and began a fundraiser to help him. But it wasn’t quite enough. So, another church caught on and raised money, as well. And together, there was enough. And there were people who gave him rides to and from the surgery. And with his eyes fixed, Jésus leads a group of other day laborers in neighborhood cleanup efforts. He was restored. And in being restored, he was able to return to work—and to service.

Dana makes the connection between Jésus’ story and the Passover liturgy where the people gathered recount the story with the refrain, dayenu. Dayenu means, “It would have been enough.” The liturgy goes,

Had God rescued us from Egypt, and not punished the Egyptians…It would have been enough.

Had God punished the Egyptians, and not destroyed their idols…It would have been enough.

Had God destroyed their idols, and not slain their first-born…It would have been enough.

And so on, all the way to God leading them into the land of Israel and building the Temple. It would have been enough—because it was a start. Sometimes, we get so caught up in perfection—in having everything—that we look right past what is in front of us. That each element of God’s grace is enough. And each element gives the opportunity to build. For Jésus, the day laborer, had the little church only raised some of the funds, it would have been enough. But because they raised some of the funds, another church caught the spark and raised the rest.

While it may have been the desire of many, Jesus didn’t come to dismantle the systems. At least not in the way we often hope—wielding a mighty sword and cutting down the powerful from their thrones of corruption. No. Jesus didn’t start at the top. He started at the bottom. Healing the sick. Giving sight to the blind. Opening the ears of the deaf. Raising the dead, for heaven’s sake.

Jesus came restoring us to wholeness. So that we can join in building a kin-dom—a place for the unseen and voiceless; a place for the hungry and homeless; a place for the hopeless and despised. A place where all of creation is cared for. A reality in which corruption and violence cannot find a hold. And for that, he had to begin where he did. With humility. In a manger. Among the common and ordinary. With the people. So that, restored to life, we can bring Christ’s light to others.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE