[Sermon] The Courage to Ask Again

Hector Garfias-Toledo, Lead Pastor

December 7, 2025 + Second Sunday of Advent

John’s question to Jesus is not a failure of faith—it is an act of courage in the face of crushing uncertainty. His willingness to ask becomes a model for us when our hope is depleted and our expectations feel unmet. Jesus responds not with rebuke but with a vision of God’s reign already alive in acts of mercy, healing, and liberation. Advent teaches us that holy discernment often begins with honest questions. In a world full of noise and fear, God is quietly reshaping what power looks like. When we run out of hope, God meets us with a deeper, steadier hope rooted in divine presence.

Sermon Transcript

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Grace to you, peace from God—our Father, Mother, Creator—and the Lord Jesus Christ, our friend, our Savior, God-with-us. And we said, Amen.

You probably recall that, or you know, or maybe you have experienced that in the past few years that I have been with you, there have been a number of waves of scam emails that go out with my name. And in those emails, I’m asking you for money—money, cards, favors, etc., right? So I’m very, very angry because nobody responds to me.

No, no, no, that’s not true. That’s not true. That’s not true. In the latest season of scam emails that have gone out, I remember that they came one day to Josh and to Don Boelter here in the office, and they said, “This is going on again.” And several members have been sending me notes that they are receiving these emails.

And he said, “Oh yeah.” Don told me, “Oh yeah, I have received those. I received one of those.” And I said, “Yeah, some people are wondering. They are wondering if that is me. They are asking me, ‘Are you the one who sent that email?’” And Don looked at me with a smile, and he said, “I realized that was not you.”

I said, “Well, you’re smart. Why not? Why? How do you know that it was not me?” And he said, “Well, because the emails that we have been receiving do not have something that always helps me to know if you are the one.” So, in the slide that I’m going to show you now, you will see what he saw.

So, if it comes—there you go. Oh! Yes. He said, and that’s when I realized, “Oh, you mean that? That’s… that’s…” Yeah. I have gotten to the point that I don’t do anything to change that. I have tried for years, and I don’t know— I don’t know why. I don’t spell my name wrong, but this little word of three letters, I never get it right.

As you can see, to the point that the computer initially tried to correct me all the time. As you can see, then suddenly I saw it was not correcting me. And even better, the last that I saw was that now when I type it correctly, it changes to that wrong spelling.

So at this point, my siblings in Christ, I don’t do anything. And if you want to make sure that it’s me, just read my emails and look for this article that will always go with me with the wrong spelling. That’s…

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” With that question, I invite you to take a moment to look at the picture on the cover page of your worship guide.

I would like to ask one or two of you to maybe just say, “Lord, what comes to your mind when you see that picture?”

Do not appear… we pray that we can find the revelation. Amen. Thank you, Heidi. Anyone else? One more?

This is a screen we have here. You are yours… and… and I am—yeah. I mean, school is here now. Yeah. Thank you, Carl. One thing that caught my attention in that picture is that John seems to have some sort of joy above and beyond the powers that imprisoned him. He has the biggest smile. And this picture, these drawings behind him—like of people dancing. And this picture really invites me to look at this story, or to hear this story with a different perspective, and to really reframe the question that I just mentioned a moment ago.

In the words of our dear sister, Rachel Tobin, our theologian-in-residence here at Trinity, I was wondering the same. I wanted to ask, “Are we making things more complicated than they are?”

It must be simpler than what we think. And this is the question that Rachel always asks us when she is part of the Wednesday Bible study. And this is a question that has been stuck in my head since the first time that she asked the question, because I think that sometimes we are making things more complicated than what they are.

The readings for today are normally interpreted as John’s questioning or doubting about Jesus’ role and identity. We assume that he was in panic mode, that he had lost hope, and that he wanted confirmation or affirmation of what he was doing. But the scripture doesn’t mention anything about John’s response to Jesus’ words. So we can say that maybe the point of this passage that we read in the gospel is not just to portray John as a doubter or a hopeless person.

Because even Jesus refers to John as a great prophet. So maybe—may it be possible—that the passage conveys a simpler yet poignant message regarding where we are as human beings, in terms of our discernment about our role in the ongoing unfolding of the reign of God. Or may it be a reminder that we are bearing or carrying out the actual unfolding of God’s reign in the middle of systems and structures that try to silence us by imprisoning us in ideas and ideologies of guilt and victimization.

And I think that’s why the prophet Isaiah exhorts us to pay attention to what God is making new, even when everything else seems to say that things are the same old, and that we just need to “suck it.”

Well, we know that John preached a poignant message that probably had an expectation of a Messiah who would bring immediate judgment. And maybe he hoped the reign of God would manifest differently from what he was seeing and hearing about. We know, and it is a fact, that he eventually died—that the structures of power of his time schemed and silenced his prophetic voice that was speaking to those who had the power and misused it to chastise people, to ostracize people, to dismiss, to despise people.

So what is the purpose of this story? It is to help us realize that we are, that we have been, or that we are in the same place where John was. What are our own prisons that we have created in our society?

Jesus’ and Isaiah’s message affirms John’s ministry, and this ministry is marking a new era in the unfolding reign of God. John stood at the threshold of a new chapter of God’s love—a story of all and for all. And Jesus points John back, in his response, to Isaiah 35 and 61—the words that we heard earlier today—as the blueprint that God has for all creation.

The reign is in the air here, but in a form that requires discernment. Remember the little apple tree?

His imprisonment is a reminder of the old order—structures of political oppression, violence, and despair—that still persist, and in which we live today. Yet from that prison he is discerning the new thing breaking forth.

The truth is that we don’t know what motivated John to send the disciples to ask. We cannot assume there was only fear, that there was only affirmation. Maybe there were many other factors, and maybe we don’t need to make it more complicated. The point is: John sent his disciples to ask Jesus. And we do not know what it meant for him to hear Jesus’ answer.

We cannot get into their heads because they are not with us. But these stories are inviting us to think and to ask the same questions: “Lord, are you the one we are waiting for? And if so, help me discern how your reign is already present in the midst of us, in spite of what we are seeing, hearing, feeling. And not only that, but what we sometimes say and do toward others.”

Jesus’ answer reorients John and our expectations. This new order—which is not a sudden political overthrow, but is an order characterized by deeds of liberation, healing, and life-giving witness.

Jesus always invites us to look at both sides of things.

Jesus is not denying that John is suffering under the powers that silence prophetic voices. Jesus says, “It is real, and it is true, and it is present, and it is oppressing you.” But at the same time, Jesus says, “On the other hand, the reign of God is not just black and white, left and right, blue and red, red and blue, etc. The reign of God is bigger than that, and it is going to crush every single structure that you are creating to make people believe that they need to take sides and oppress one another for the sake of themselves, rather than for the sake of all creation.”

Jesus invites us to look at both sides and not to fall into the extremes, but to remain grounded and connected to the source of truth, and to discern with the gifts that God has given us—critical thinking and divine wisdom—to see what is already emerging.

John, from his prison, from his cell, models for us that hope is not the absence of darkness, but the discernment of the new light in that darkness. We are called to perceive and actively bear this new reality from within our own prisons, in the middle of the structures—of which we are part—that seek to silence the prophetic truth.

“I am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?” My siblings in Christ, that is the subversive, poignant message of the Second Sunday of Advent.

Where are the stars that are in your hearts already? How are we going to share those stars with others? But more than anything else, may God give us the discernment to see the stars that every single person and human being and creature in creation has as a sign of the God-given dignity for all people— a dignity that God valued so much that God decided to be one of us, one for us, and one with us.

Amen.