Matthew 11

Matthew 11 begins with a question from a prison cell. John the Baptist, who had announced Jesus at the Jordan, is in Herod's dungeon and has heard reports that do not sound like the axe and fire he preached. He sends to ask: are you the one, or should we look for someone else? Jesus does not say yes. He says, tell John what you see. The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are clean, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor hear good news, and blessed is anyone who is not tripped up by me. Then he turns to the crowd and defends John in the highest terms any man has been given: not a reed, not a courtier, a prophet and more, the messenger promised by Malachi, the greatest ever born, and yet outranked by the smallest person in the kingdom. The mood darkens. This generation is like children who will not play any game: John fasted and they called him possessed; Jesus feasts and they call him a drunk who keeps bad company. The towns where he did most of his miracles get the hardest words in Matthew, harder than Sodom. And then, without warning, the chapter opens into a prayer. Jesus thanks his Father for hiding these things from the clever and showing them to children, claims that only the Son knows the Father, and turns to everyone within earshot with the invitation that has never stopped being heard: come to me, all of you who are worn out and loaded down, and I will give you rest.