Gospel according to Saint Matthew Mt 11:2-11
When John the Baptist heard in prison of the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” Jesus said to them in reply, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”
As they were going off, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John, “What did you go out to the desert to see? A reed swayed by the wind? Then what did you go out to see? Someone dressed in fine clothing? Those who wear fine clothing are in royal palaces. Then why did you go out? To see a prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way before you. Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
Are we greater than Saint John the Baptist?
Luis CASASUS President of the Idente Missionaries
Rome, December 14, 2025 | Third Sunday of Advent
Is 35: 1-6a.10; James 5: 7-10; Mt 11: 2-11
In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus say: Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has risen no one greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. Of course, in saying this, Christ is not making a “ranking of holiness,” but rather reminding us that the Baptist did not witness the wonders that the first disciples saw and the heroic deeds that we have seen in the saints for so many centuries, even though our response to that grace is not always the best. He preached, suffered persecution, imprisonment, and martyrdom without having seen what we have been granted to contemplate: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.
He believed deeply in the Master and, at the same time, could not comprehend the magnitude of divine mercy, which led Christ to forgive and live with those who were judged impure, to approach the most repugnant, those who showed clear signs of not wanting to repent. Jesus announced to them that, against all odds, God the Father’s plans are being fulfilled and will continue to be fulfilled: it will be practically impossible to resist divine mercy and not convert right now, in time, or at the end of this life. This explains the miracles and healings that Jesus performed, so that everyone would understand that the kingdom of heaven was truly already among us.
Of course, Christ’s attitude of mercy exceeded (and contradicted) all expectations; his way of looking at sinners and the corrupt did not coincide with what we sometimes read in the Old Testament: Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with the deepest hatred (Psalm 139).
Perhaps that is why St. John asked if someone else “who was to come” would complete Christ’s teachings and compassion by eliminating the most wicked, who seemed to make impossible the peace and total victory announced by the prophets. But he had embarked on his mission like Abraham, setting out on his journey without knowing exactly where he was going.
Jesus himself, well aware of the shock caused by his boundless mercy, exclaims today: Blessed is he who finds no scandal in me!
—ooOoo—
But what we experience every day and what the Israelites experienced in exile does not seem to speak of the victory of the kingdom of heaven either. In fact, yesterday and today, many people show disinterest in spiritual life and in any religion because it seems irrelevant to their lives. What does it matter if God exists or not, since He seems to have no connection with us? What good is my long-standing faith in God if it does not solve the most pressing difficulties of the people I love and for whom I have prayed so much? Some even blame God for the tragedies that befall their loved ones or themselves. Therefore, the proclamation of the Gospel, although supported by the word, must be demonstrated by certain actions that are impossible to explain in a human being without the intervention of grace: living in total self-denial, loving one’s enemies, and forgiving at all times.
But there is more. The victory of the kingdom of heaven is demonstrated when “two or more are gathered in His name” (Mt 18:20), which means that He will be present. Christ does not say “when you are working in my name,” nor does He even mention prayer, but His presence always has special signs. The first, of course, is unity, for only the Holy Spirit who accompanies the Son is capable of creating unity in those who have different sensibilities, different expectations, and, moreover, do not always understand each other perfectly.
When that unity leads to giving one’s life together, in different ways, but always to the end… God’s presence is perceptible. The most notable model is that of the martyrs who encourage each other to die for Him.
A beautiful and admirable example can be found in the Martyrs of Nagasaki (Japan, 1597). Twenty-six Christians—Franciscans, Jesuits, and lay people, including three children—were condemned to death by crucifixion for proclaiming the Gospel. On the way to Mount Nishizaka, they encouraged one another with songs and words of hope.
The youngest, Luis Ibaraki, barely 12 years old, encouraged the older ones by saying, Heaven is before us. The adults, seeing his courage, strengthened each other: the child’s faith became a mirror that restored their courage and hope. On the cross, they encouraged each other to sing the Te Deum, showing that communion in martyrdom was stronger than fear.
But it is not only about bloody death. A community that consistently unites to live the martyrdom of daily self-giving, when a community consecrates itself to serving tirelessly, renouncing comforts and enduring misunderstandings, but remaining faithful to love. It is also seen in contemplative monastic communities, which offer their lives in prayer for the world, without external recognition. Pope Francis has reminded us: The indispensable requirement for being a martyr is not to die, but to give one’s life for love. This silent and persevering dedication, especially of a community, which lasts a lifetime, has sometimes been called ‘white martyrdom’.
We can imagine these communities as Advent candles, lit in the night, without making noise, without attracting attention, but consuming their own life to give light to others. That is their martyrdom: to wear themselves out for love, without the need to die violently.
Unity, that difficult goal in the life of the world, is manifested in the members of religious communities or families who truly consecrate themselves together.
Our Founding Father encourages us to live holiness in community, not because it is easier to do so, but because in this way we can give witness to unity and mutual forgiveness that are only possible in a community. This is so powerful that, if we miss this opportunity, we would deserve—in the harsh language of the Old Testament—a terrible punishment. That is why St. Paul exclaims today in an apparently exaggerated tone: Do not complain, brothers and sisters, against one another, so that you may not be condemned.
—ooOoo—
The same thing happened to St. John the Baptist, Mary, Abraham, Joseph, and many prophets: they could not understand God’s plans. The Old and New Testaments agree that our way of walking must be to pass through the mystery, not to understand it:
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:9).
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past finding out! (Romans 11:33).
The Baptist’s testimony was so impressive that Herod decided to imprison him in the imposing fortress of Machaerus, for he was overcome with panic because he imagined that the Baptist’s moral authority could lead the people to an uprising.
He also trembled because John exposed the evil he had done by marrying his brother’s wife, which caused him confusion and, against his will, led him to execute the Baptist. This demonstrates the power of complete self-denial (of my judgments, my desires, and my hunger for “missions accomplished”) and the fulfillment of what Christ predicted, the persecution that the righteous will suffer in many ways.
Advent invites us to prepare ourselves in various ways for the coming of Christ, but above all with a visit to the desert, which clearly symbolizes self-denial.
Today we have a unique opportunity to take the Baptist as a model of our ascetic self-denial. This earned him the grace of reaching all kinds of people.
His lifestyle linked him to the prophets of the Old Testament: the portrait of John explicitly recalls Elijah, the great prophet who also wore rough clothing and lived apart (2 Kings 1:8). The evangelists want to show that John is the “new Elijah.”
His mission is to prepare for the coming of the Messiah, to prepare the way for him to reach souls, even the most closed and hardened hearts. His attire and diet were part of this message: he is an authentic prophet, austere, consecrated entirely to God.
Camel skin symbolizes radical austerity and detachment; it is neither soft nor elegant; it is rough and uncomfortable. This expressed renunciation of luxuries, of what is not strictly necessary, a penitential life.
Locusts were an accessible and permitted food, as Leviticus (11:22) says, and for someone who lived in the desert, they showed that he lived on the bare minimum. Wild honey represents total dependence on God; it was not cultivated honey, but honey found in nature, a free food not controlled by the human economy. All this expresses his willingness to live on the gift and trust in Providence, which gave him a moral and spiritual authority that most Pharisees, Sadducees, and priests did not have.
This self-sacrifice, this detachment, gave him the authority to call everyone to conversion, without social, religious, or moral distinction. But he did so in different ways depending on who was in front of him.
First, there were the common people (workers, peasants, pilgrims) who came to the Jordan seeking spiritual guidance, forgiveness, inner renewal, and hope in the face of political oppression and religious corruption. With them, John spoke in a direct but accessible tone, exhorting them to live with justice and mercy (Luke 3:10–14).
The tax collectors, considered public sinners, also came. They were seen as traitors because they collaborated with Rome. Surprisingly, John did not reject them. On the contrary, he taught them how to live righteously: Do not demand more than what is established (Lk 3:12–13). This shows that John did not isolate himself from sinners, but offered them a path of transformation.
Soldiers also approached him. John spoke to them within their professional context: Do not extort money from anyone; be content with your wages (Lk 3:14). Thus, we understand that he did not see anyone as irredeemable, not even those who represented oppressive power.
He also spoke to the Pharisees and Sadducees, but very harshly. Not because he rejected them as people, but because of their religious hypocrisy. He tried to awaken their corrupt consciences with harsh words: You brood of vipers! (Mt 3:7). They came more out of curiosity or to evaluate his movement, not to convert. Even so, John addressed the same call to change their lives to them.
John even spoke to the rulers, denouncing injustices and public sins. He openly criticized Herod for his illegitimate relationship with Herodias (Mk 6:17-18). This cost him his freedom and, ultimately, his life. Clearly, he did not tone down his message according to the power of his interlocutor.
Finally, John formed a group of disciples (Jn 1:35-41) with whom he had a deeper relationship, providing them with training and accompaniment. Some of them ended up following Jesus.
Let us ask, giving proof of our self-denial, for that apostolic grace to reach all hearts, to bring the peace that Jesus announces to us already this Advent.
_______________________________
In the Sacred Hearts of Jesus, Mary and Joseph,
Luis CASASUS
President
