Of course, as a prophet, creature comforts weren't at the top of his list of priorities, and John wasn't known for being a comforting creature, either. John was never one to mince words, and he was certainly no respecter of persons. I'm not sure I'd want to run into this fellow on the street, with his wild, matted hair and camel-carcass clothing. He probably smelled awful. And his preaching was pretty bleak-downright apocalyptic, even. In any event, it probably looked to John as if his preaching days would soon be over, and unfortunately, he wasn't wrong.

If I were John the Baptist, knowing that any day might be my last, I might be tempted to be a bit more self-occupied. After all, in today's gospel lesson, John is in prison, not for preaching the baptism of repentance, but for running afoul of Herodias, the king's wife. John had turned from accusing the Pharisees and Sadducees of being a brood of vipers to accusing Herodias of immorality. If I were John, I would probably have kicked myself for venturing into palace politics rather than sticking to the tried-and-true tradition of invective against corrupt religious authorities.

But to me, the striking thing is that John isn't preoccupied with his own dilemma. He's not planning his defense, or even his funeral, for that matter. He's not bemoaning his fate, he's not telling his disciples to fetch him some fresh locusts for the last meal before his head ends up on Salome's silver platter. No, he is single-minded in wanting to know if his central mission has been fulfilled: Go and ask my cousin, Jesus, whether he's the real deal or not.

Of course, John's question betrays a measure of anxiety, if not doubt, over whether Jesus really fits the bill of who the Messiah is supposed to be. John wants to know what's going on, and I don't blame him. After all, as we heard last week, John was expecting the Messiah to baptize "with the Holy Spirit and with fire." The Messiah was going to separate the good wheat from the evil chaff with his threshing fork, throwing the chaff into "unquenchable fire." In short, the Messiah wasn't going to be a very nice guy.

Perhaps John expected the Messiah would come and free him from prison, kill those collaborators with the Romans, the wicked king Herod and queen Herodias, and then move on to cleanse the Holy Land of the hated Roman occupiers themselves. If such was the case, then it makes sense that when John hears what Jesus has been up to, he would have his doubts. And so he sends his disciples to ask Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?"

In response, Jesus says, "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."

It's that last statement that confused me at first: "And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." Surely Jesus isn't implying that John is taking offense at Jesus? Well, actually, I think that's exactly what's happening. When John has his disciples ask Jesus "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" the subtext is "Come on, Jesus. Get with the program. Start baptizing with fire! Get that winnowing fork ready to separate the wheat from the chaff, the good guys from the bad guys! Let's get the end of the world rolling!"

John had been setting the stage for a revolutionary, someone who had the wrath of God on his side and who wasn't afraid to use it. In asking that pointed question, John makes it clear that he has some pretty particular expectations of Jesus. John has an agenda that Jesus was supposed to be following, and Jesus isn't sticking to the script. For instead of killing all those evildoers, Jesus heals people. Instead of bringing bad news to the rich and powerful of the world ("Hasta la vista, baby!"), Jesus brings good news to the poor and powerless. What's going on here?

Jesus' reply to John says, in effect: "Yes, I am the Messiah. But I'm not exactly the kind of Messiah you've been expecting." In other words: if you want to know whether I am the Messiah, look at the things I'm actually doing, not at the things you expect me to do.

John's preconceived notions and personal agenda for what Jesus should be doing blinded him to what Jesus was actually doing. I hope that Jesus' response opened John's eyes to what Jesus was really all about, but, unfortunately, we'll never know, because shortly after receiving this reply, John was executed.

John the Baptist may have lost his head, but it's not too late for us. For what Jesus is trying to get John the Baptist to see is instructive for us, too, as we live through the current phase of our discernment and transition as a community.

In a time of transition, discerning where God is leading us requires three things. First, we must let go of past preconceived notions and agendas, however well-intentioned and lofty they may be, and recognize that God's plan for us may not resemble our own plan very much at all. This first step is perhaps the most frightening, because it requires us to relinquish our false sense of control. But unless we let go of our own need to control where we are going, we will have a hard time seeing where it is God would have us go.

Second, after we have left those old notions behind, we need to take the time to look at what is really happening right here, right now, asking ourselves, "What is it that we're already doing that has life?" Luckily, we've been doing a lot of this already; our profile and search process identified two areas in particular that we believe God is calling us to strengthen: adult Christian formation and youth ministry.

Third, once we've identified where it is that God is truly leading us, we must go beyond talking about how great it would be if we did these things, to actually doing them and supporting them. And this takes the commitment of our energy and resources, our time, talent, and treasure. In the end, it all comes down to stewardship: making sure we can fund those mission priorities that God has led us to identify as our work in this place, by calling and equipping staff and volunteers, by showing up, day in, day out, and loving others with the same love that gave sight to the blind and life to the dead.

In his earthly life, John the Baptist didn't ever get the opportunity to move beyond the first stage of letting go of his personal agenda. He got diverted from his central message of repentance and he lost his head before he could turn it toward what God was actually doing through Jesus the Messiah. But if we can set aside our own preconceived notions about where God should be leading us, perhaps we can become more open to where God in fact is leading us. Perhaps our eyes can be opened to what we are being called to do to support the work of God on this hill.

Already, I believe, that is happening here. We simply need to keep our ears open and our eyes peeled, and then, when we have heard and seen, to go and do what it takes to make God's vision for us a reality. Think of the alternative: It sure beats losing our heads.