But John, having heard in the prison the works of the Christ, sent by his disciples,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and said to him, Art *thou* the coming [one]? or are we to wait for another?
John's question comes from a prison cell. The man who had publicly pointed Jesus out now asks whether Jesus is really the One — so what shook him, and why did the Lord answer with works instead of a rescue?
Two things sharpen the question. John asks about a person the Old Testament had promised, and he uses a particular word for "another".
The word here expresses "a different kind." John sent his disciples to ask the Lord if He was the coming one, or whether they were to look for a different one. Was He the One prophesied of in the Old Testament?
His situation explains much. John had rebuked Herod, sat locked in a fortress, and no rescue came.
Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee, had thrown John into prison. John had rebuked him over his brother Philip's wife, and over all the other evils he had done. Yet the Lord worked no rescue for him, though He had just shown His power over death. Was He really the Christ? John sends to ask. In the loneliness of his prison he may have been turning over what seemed so strange: if Jesus was the Christ, why should His forerunner be left to waste away in the fortress of Machaerus?
The trial had changed shape. He had spoken out in front of crowds; now he had to wait alone.
No one could have given a bolder witness than John the Baptist on the day at Bethabara... But then John finds himself inside the prison walls. The crowds have gone. The witnessing time is over, and the waiting time has come. Under the stress of this new trial he exclaims, "Are you the one who is to come?"
Commentators differ here. Some say John asked only to settle his disciples' minds. Others answer that no such defence is needed.
Some teachers, anxious to guard the credit of this most honoured servant of Christ, have said he asked the question for others and not for himself. But such care is unnecessary. Only One was ever perfect, always saying and doing the right thing, and He was more than man, though truly man. At the same time, we need not be surprised if John was depressed. Think of the gloom of his surroundings in Herod's prison.
God let the question be asked, and used it. The answer settled who should bear witness to whom.
God allowed this question to put everything in its place. Christ is the Word of God, so He ought to be His own witness. He ought to bear witness to Himself as well as to John, and not receive witness from John. This He did in front of John's disciples. He healed all the diseases of men and preached the gospel to the poor... Blessed was the one who would not be offended at the lowly exterior of the King of Israel.
Power could have opened the prison. The reply asks what the suffering people around Jesus actually needed.
True, mere power could have burst open Herod's prison and set the captive free; but then what about the lame, the blind, the deaf, the leper, the dead, the poor, the wretched? Could a display of royalty relieve their condition? Was it not plain that something else was needed? And was it not just as plain that the gracious, tender, soothing ministry of the lowly Jesus of Nazareth was supplying it?
One detail is easy to miss. John sent his doubt straight to Jesus, and that is the model.
Honest doubt never stays away from Christ, but comes to Him for a solution. The Lord points him to the works He was doing at that very time. God's power was showing itself in many kinds of goodness, while the good news went to the poor. The wonders were not evidence merely as wonders. They were "signs" — they showed the nature and power of the One they came from.
- Prison — John's faith wavered because no rescue came. Waiting alone tested him more than the crowds ever had.
- Question — He asked if Jesus was the Coming One of prophecy, or if they should still wait for someone of a different kind.
- Honesty — Some try to shield John by saying he asked only for his disciples. That care is not needed. Only One was ever perfect, and honest doubt goes straight to Christ.
- Answer — Christ does not argue, and He does not send a rescue. He points to works that are signs, and to good news reaching the poor.
- Blessing — The King came in grace, not in force. The blessing falls on anyone who is not tripped up by His lowly appearance.
And Jesus answering said to them, Go, report to John what ye hear and see.
John's question reaches Jesus from a prison cell. The Lord does not answer with a plain yes or no. He sends the messengers back with a report of what was happening in front of them. Why did the man who announced Him need reassurance? And why did Christ point to His works and words instead of naming Himself?
John had expected a King who would act in power. Instead John sat in chains, while the One he announced went on healing. One writer imagines the thoughts behind the question:
No doubt he stumbled for the moment, when he saw himself in the iron grip of Herod, and heard of the works of Christ. His poor heart might reason like this: "We looked for a glorious Messiah, who would set up His kingdom in power. If this really is He, why is it like this with me, His servant and witness? Why am I here in the gloom of this prison? Why is the strong hand of power not stretched out to free me from these chains and throw these prison doors open?"
Commentators differ here. Some have argued John sent the messengers for their sake, not his own. One writer records that view and rejects it:
Martin Luther says on this passage: "It is certain that John sent to ask because of his disciples. They did not yet regard Christ as He ought to be regarded. They waited for someone who would arrive with pomp and great learning, like a mighty King." … But this solution lacks support in Scripture. We need not claim perfection and infallibility for John the Baptist, for he had neither. Only one person on earth was perfect and infallible, sinless and spotless, and never troubled by doubt: our Lord Jesus Christ.
Jesus names two things — what the messengers hear, and what they see. These are the two halves of His ministry, and one ranks higher:
Our Lord's answer shows that it was not John's disciples only, but John himself who was shaken. These are the two parts of Christ's ministry — His words and His works, "what you hear and see." The word always has the higher place. The works appeal more to the senses. The word of Christ deals with the heart and conscience by the Spirit. In what they heard and saw we have the signs and effects of the Messiah's power that the Old Testament had predicted. I do not think we have a single case of the blind being cured before Christ came. Jewish tradition held that this miracle was reserved for the Son of David.
Jesus pointed John back to a book he had already been quoting for years:
The Baptist plainly knew the prophet Isaiah. His answer to the priests and Levites, sent from Jerusalem to ask who he was, proves it. Compare John 1:23 with Isaiah 40:3. The Lord turned him to that same prophet's words for the answer to his question. He pointed the messengers to the proofs that He was the Messiah (Isaiah 35:5-6; 61:1). Wise indeed was this way of answering. John knew the prophetic word. His disciples would tell him what they had heard and seen, and that was proof that the Christ was there, and that Jesus was the Messiah.
The Lord had a reason for not resting on John's earlier testimony about Him:
God allowed this question to put everything in its place. Christ, being the Word of God, ought to be His own witness. He ought to bear witness to Himself as well as to John, and not receive testimony from John. This is what He did in front of John's disciples. He healed all the diseases of men, and preached the gospel to the poor. John's messengers were to bring John this true testimony of what Jesus was.
John was looking for glory. The Lord answered him with grace:
While John is in doubt about Christ, the Lord meets his failure by putting His grace before him… Was grace, then, a smaller thing than the glory the Baptist expected? To his question Jesus replies, "Grace remains in power, and the poor have the gospel preached to them." Ours is a time of weakness, when miracles have ceased. Even now a soul may recognise Jesus in the preaching of the gospel to the poor, and say, "I myself have heard the Lord." That is a precious thought.
- Doubt — John's question came out of a prison. He expected the kingdom in power, and found himself in chains instead.
- Report — the Lord answered doubt with evidence. He told the messengers to carry back what they heard and saw, and His word ranked above His works.
- Scripture — the works He named matched what Isaiah had promised, so the prophecies John already knew could settle his faith.
- Witness — Christ is the Word of God. He bears witness to Himself instead of depending on John's testimony.
- Grace — the proof He gave was mercy, not majesty. That same grace still marks Him out today, where miracles have ceased and the poor still hear the gospel.
Blind [men] see and lame walk; lepers are cleansed, and deaf hear; and dead are raised, and poor have glad tidings preached to them
John the Baptist sat in Herod's prison. He sent men to ask whether Jesus was really the One he had announced. The answer was not an argument but a list of things happening in front of them. Why did the greatest of the prophets need this reassurance? And why does the list end with preaching rather than power?
The question came from a man in chains. One writer imagines the reasoning behind it.
He no doubt stumbled for a moment when he saw himself in Herod's iron grip and heard of the works of Christ. His poor heart might allow itself such reasoning as this: "We looked for a glorious Messiah whose kingdom would come in power. If this really is He, then why is it like this with me, His servant and witness? Why is the strong hand of power not stretched out to free me from these chains and fling these prison doors open?"
One expected item is missing: no prisoner is released. That silence may be just what troubled John. The answer came in a way he had not pictured.
John may have wondered why no one brought him out of prison. Isaiah 42:7 spoke of the Messiah bringing out the prisoners from the dungeon. But soon a martyr's death set him free from that prison, and that has surely brought greater blessing than he had imagined.
The order matters. Sight for the blind stands first, and it was the miracle Israel reserved for one Person alone.
In what they heard and saw we have the signs of the Messiah's power that the Old Testament had predicted. As far as I know, there is no case of curing the blind before Christ came. Jewish tradition reserved this miracle for the Son of David. He was the One who, according to Isaiah 35, would open the eyes of the blind. The Lord puts the blind receiving their sight first among the outward miracles. This shows that He was really the Christ who was to come.
John expected a king who would break Herod's grip. What Jesus showed him instead was not smaller than royal power. It was greater.
God manifest in the flesh did not come to seek royal splendour, though it was His due. He came to deliver suffering men. His work revealed a character far more deeply divine. Behind it lay a motive far more glorious than anything that depended on holding the throne of David. It was more glorious than a rescue that would have set John free and ended the tyranny that had imprisoned him.
The list climbs from healing to raising the dead. Then it ends lower than it began, and that descent is the point.
The evidence was not wonders alone, but wonders that were "signs" — they showed the nature and power of the One they came from. All the while the sweet gospel invitation went out to the needy, and it is most like God in coming lowest down.
Christ's answer had two parts, and they do not carry equal weight.
These are the two parts of Christ's ministry — His words and His works, what you hear and see. The word always has the higher place. The works appeal to the senses, but the word of Christ deals with the heart and conscience by the Spirit.
The miracles were not random relief. Each condition in the list matches a condition of the soul.
The blind received their sight, itself evidence of His Messiahship (Isa. 42:5-7), and a picture of light given to those in complete ignorance. The lame are the powerless, healed so that they can walk before God. Lepers picture those who are corrupt, cleansed from that loathsome state. The deaf are those indifferent to the voice of God, now made to hear. The dead are the dormant, with no life toward God, but made alive by divine power. Finally, the poor are the spiritually destitute, made rich by the gospel of grace preached to them.
The healings belonged to a moment. The last item did not, and it is still the evidence anyone can meet.
Was grace, then, a lesser thing than the glory the Baptist expected? To his question Jesus replies, "Grace remains in power, and the poor have good news preached to them." This is a precious thought. Now is a time of weakness, and miracles have ceased. Yet a soul may recognise Jesus in the preaching of the gospel to the poor, and say, "I myself have heard the Lord."
- Doubt — Even the greatest prophet stumbled when his life did not match his hopes. His prison, not his doctrine, raised the question.
- Evidence — The Lord answered with works no one else had done. Opening blind eyes was the sign kept for the promised Son of David.
- Grace — He came to deliver suffering men, not to take royal splendour. That showed something deeper than a throne would have.
- Descent — The list ends lowest, with good news for the poor, and that is where God looks most like Himself.
- Today — Miracles ceased, but the last item on the list did not. Grace still reaches the destitute, so a soul can still say, "I myself have heard the Lord."
and blessed is whosoever shall not be offended in me.
John the Baptist had announced the coming King. Now, from prison, he sends messengers to ask whether Jesus really is the one — and the reply ends not with an explanation but with a blessing on whoever does not stumble.
The problem was not the evidence but the form the Messiah had taken. John looked for a King who would break oppression. Instead he found One who relieved suffering people while His own herald stayed in chains.
God, who appeared in the flesh, did not come to seek the pomp of royalty, although it was His due. He came for the deliverance of suffering men. His work revealed a character much more deeply divine. Its spring of action was far more glorious than anything that depended on owning David's throne. It was more glorious than a deliverance that would have set John free and ended the tyranny that imprisoned him.
Jesus could have said the opposite and meant the same thing. He did not.
He would not grieve that servant by leaving him unanswered, or by sending a reply that the messengers would recognise as a rebuke. So He tells them to go and report to John the wonderful and miraculous things they had seen themselves. They were to give him this message: "Blessed is the one who is not offended by me!" It is not "Cursed is the one who is offended by me" — that would have been the same thing, and yet so very different.
The correction travelled back to John through his own disciples, who could not read what they carried.
He returns a message to John that no one but John himself could weigh: "Blessed is the one who is not offended by me." Even John's disciples, who carried the message between him and the Lord, could not have understood this. Jesus would expose John to himself, but not to His disciples or to the world.
What people stumbled over was not a fault in Jesus but the shame and rejection that surrounded Him.
There was a gentle rebuke here, yet it was certainly meant to reach the conscience. John seems to have been stumbled; but blessed was anyone who was not offended in Jesus. Nothing so grated against every natural thought of a Jew as the rejection and shame that went with the Messiah, or with those who bore witness of Him. Man was completely unprepared for it.
The verse holds out a blessing, not only a warning. The one who is not tripped up is held up by the very thing others fall over.
He is not stumbled at the rejection of Christ. He sees the cross in the light of heaven, not of earth; he knows how it bears on eternal things. Present things are not the question... He therefore has the blessing fully; and he is strengthened, not offended, by the cross.
John did one thing right even while his faith wavered — he sent his question to the right address.
Shut up in prison, John seems to have suffered a temporary eclipse of faith. It is beautiful to see how loyal he is to the Lord, even under the darkness of doubt. If there are doubts, the One he has questions about is the only One who can settle them. It is well for us when we bring our very doubts to the Lord Jesus.
The placement of this line at the close of the message is itself part of the lesson.
The words "And blessed is the one who is not offended by Me" are words of exhortation to John the Baptist. How like the Lord to put them at the end of the message... The warning was certainly understood by John, and how deeply it must have searched him. It led to humbling and heart-searching, and in the end it was a beatitude, a "blessed." May it always be so with us.
- Cause. John stumbled over Jesus' lowliness, not His works. A King who relieved suffering people while His herald stayed in prison was not the deliverance he expected.
- Form. The Lord said "blessed is the one who is not offended," not "cursed is the one who is." Same content — and yet so very different in effect.
- Privacy. Only John could weigh the rebuke; his messengers carried it without being able to read it. Christ exposes a servant to himself, not to onlookers.
- Reach. The stumbling block was never a fault in Jesus. It was the shame and rejection that went with Him, which no one was prepared for.
- Result. The one who does not stumble is strengthened by the very cross others fall over. John's humbling ends where the verse ends — in a beatitude.
But as they went [away], Jesus began to say to the crowds concerning John, What went ye out into the wilderness to see? a reed moved about by the wind?
The Lord waits until John's messengers are gone. He then asks the crowd what first drew them out to the desert, and turns that question into a defence of a servant who had just wavered.
John had sent a question that sounded like doubt. The Lord's reply had to guard two things at once: His own dignity and His servant's heart.
He could not give a direct answer to His servant's question without loss of dignity. After what had happened, the question was an offending one. He would not grieve that servant either — not by leaving him unanswered, and not by sending a reply that the messengers would know was a rebuke... He then turns to the crowd after John's disciples were gone and pronounces the most glowing tribute. This was the hour of failure. Others would have used the moment to throw stones at the man who was down. The Lord defends and praises His old and tried servant.
The Lord had two audiences here: John, and the crowd.
But when these messengers left, the Lord shows His tender compassion and regard for him. He begins to defend the same John who had shown his weakness under suffering and long-delayed hope... When John sent his disciples with that question, a shallow judgment might have called him only "a reed shaken by the wind." But no, the Lord will not allow it. He maintains the honour and integrity of John. He has sent a little rebuke to John privately by his disciples; but before the crowds He clothes him with honour.
That order is worth copying: correct in private, defend in public.
A reed bends whichever way the wind pushes it. As a picture of a man, it means someone moved by whatever pressure is on him at the moment.
Before the crowds, however, He speaks highly of John. He asks them first: did they go into the wilderness to see a reed shaken by the wind? Was John merely a weakling moved by the forces of nature? They knew this could not be so. Nothing natural could explain the penetrating message he brought. Nothing natural could explain why crowds went out to the wilderness to hear him.
The Lord points to what the crowd once did with their own feet.
People do not go in crowds into the wilderness for nothing. It is a strong appeal to what they once thought, pressed home on them. It draws them back to the memory of John's unusual character.
Look at the moment He chose. John's own question had just made him look small. That is when the Lord speaks up for him.
John, the forerunner, is in prison. For a moment he is discouraged and gives up his testimony. Yet the Lord Himself bears witness to John before the crowd. What grace! What divine delicacy, to pick this time to restore John! His doubts had lowered him as a prophet in everyone's eyes... A man who in trial was weak and uncertain? Ah! Even if he seems weak now, while Jesus is speaking, he was not weak at the start of his course. And that is when they were called to get to know him.
Grace did not wait for John to recover before honouring him.
- Timing. Jesus waited until John's messengers had left. Only then did He praise him.
- Defence. The reed question refuses a shallow verdict on John. One moment of wavering does not erase a life of faithfulness.
- Evidence. The Lord argues from the crowd's own memory. Nobody walks into a desert to see a weakling.
- Grace. The praise comes at John's lowest point. Others would have thrown stones; the Lord restored him.
- Pattern. Follow the Lord's way with people: rebuke in private, honour in public.
But what went ye out to see? a man clothed in delicate raiment? behold, those who wear delicate things are in the houses of kings.
John's messengers have just walked away, carrying the Lord's answer back to a prison cell. Jesus then turns to the crowd. He asks what they had gone out into the desert to see, and He rules out a man in fine clothes. Such men live in palaces.
The Lord's praise of John came right after a gentle rebuke sent to him in private.
Verse 6 was a little rebuke to John, but how graciously given! He should not have stumbled or been offended, yet how the Lord praised him when the messengers were gone! We should be honest with a person to his face, and always ready to defend him fairly behind his back.
No word of rescue came back to John's cell.
Was John neglected by the Lord — a tool once used, then thrown aside when his work was done, with no care or thought for him? How often have men acted this way towards their servants! The Lord does not act like this: He never forgets His servants, though suffering for Him may be their lot. So now He bears witness before the crowd in favour of His imprisoned forerunner, and in doing so proclaims who He Himself is.
The Lord's argument turns on place. Fine clothes need an audience, and a desert has none.
People who want to attract attention do not go to the wilderness. They seek what caters to the flesh, such as kings' courts, where they can show themselves off among the glitter and tinsel.
One writer weighs both of the pictures the Lord ruled out:
He was no reed shaken by the wind: they could see that any day in the wilderness. Nor was he a man dressed in soft clothing. To find men in splendid dress, living in comfort, they had to look to kings' courts. There is no moral grandeur in any of these things.
John's rough garment was not eccentricity. It matched his message, and it stood against everything the ruler's court stood for.
The self-indulgent ruler had given himself over to satisfying every evil passion he had. The manners of his court made that easy. John was the opposite. In the lonely places of the wilderness he had learned the hard lesson of self-denial and self-mastery. His hairy garment and his plain diet were outward signs of the man's moral character… John called the people to sackcloth and ashes. He was not a man "dressed in soft clothing" himself. His practice matched his preaching.
John wanted nothing from the world he preached to. His clothing showed it.
John the Baptist found nothing in the world to attract him. He was in the desert, separated from it completely and openly… He asks nothing of the world. He does not go to it looking for "soft clothing". He brings into it the customs of the country he has chosen. His clothing is of camel's hair, the only rough garment the desert can give him.
The crowd could test this for themselves. They had made the journey; they knew what had drawn them.
Was he a courtier of men, clothed in soft clothing? Did they look for such men in the wilderness, rather than in the courts of kings? Certainly, his whole life proved him to be far different from these.
The Lord ruled out two pictures. Then He gave the true one.
When John sent his disciples with that question, a shallow judgment might have said he was only "a reed shaken by the wind." But no, the Lord will not allow it. He defends the honour and integrity of John. He calls him "more than a prophet," because John had a special place and honour given to no other prophet — to go straight ahead of the Lord as the herald of the Messiah Himself. John was not only a prophet himself; the prophets had also foretold him.
Where does a man in rough clothing find the nerve to face a king? One writer answers from the life of the prophet Elijah:
Elijah was used to dealing with the Sovereign of the universe at His high throne. So he did not dread Israel's petty ruler sitting on his throne, whatever the strength of the armed guard around him!
- Wilderness, not palace. The Lord's question fixes the place. Soft clothing belongs in kings' houses. So whatever drew the crowds into the desert was something else.
- Wilderness clothing. John's rough garment was not a costume but a sermon. His practice matched his preaching, unlike the ruler's self-indulgent court.
- Wilderness freedom. He asked nothing of the world, so the world could not bend him. He was no reed shaken by the wind.
- Wilderness honour. Fine clothes hold no moral grandeur. Real greatness belonged to the man in camel's hair who went ahead of the Messiah.
- Wilderness vindication. The Lord rebuked John in private and praised him in public. He never forgets a servant who suffers for Him. Nor should we — defend people behind their backs.
But what went ye out to see? a prophet? Yea, I say to you, and more than a prophet
John sits in prison, shaken by doubt. The Lord has just answered him, and now He turns to the crowd to speak about him. Was it a prophet they went out to see? Jesus answers that question Himself, and His answer sets John above every prophet before him.
John's witness looked its weakest here. That is the moment the Lord chose to praise him in front of the crowd.
The imprisoned forerunner is discouraged for a moment and lets go of his testimony. Meanwhile the Lord Himself bears witness to John before the crowd. What grace! What divine delicacy in choosing such a time to restore John, whose doubts had lowered him as a prophet in everyone's eyes!
The Lord had two audiences here, and He said different things to each.
He has sent a little rebuke to John privately through his disciples. But before the crowds He clothes him with honour.
Before naming what John was, Jesus rules out two things he was not. A reed bending in the wind pictures a man moved by pressure; soft clothing points to comfort and status.
John had not been carried about by every wind of doctrine, giving way to superior power like a reed before the wind. He had not been clothed in soft clothing. No splendid clothes adorned him to catch the eye of the crowd.
The place itself made the point. Nobody seeking applause chooses a desert.
People who want to attract attention do not go to the wilderness. They look for whatever caters to the flesh, such as kings' courts, where they can show themselves off amid the glitter and tinsel. Yet people were drawn to go out into the wilderness — to see what? A prophet? Yes, the Lord says, "and more than a prophet."
Prophets spoke of things still to come. John was himself one of those things. That reversal is the heart of the phrase.
"A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet," because John had a special place and honour given to no other prophet. He was to be the immediate forerunner of the Lord, the herald of the Messiah Himself. John was not only a prophet; the prophets prophesied of John.
Commentators are careful about where this honour comes from. It was not something in John himself.
John had the high honour of being the only servant of God, apart from the blessed Lord Himself, whose ministry was directly and specifically foretold in the Old Testament. This was not because of any greatness in John himself, but because of his nearness to Christ as His forerunner and herald.
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His position also differed from the prophets before him. They spoke inside the nation; John called the nation out to him.
John the Baptist was a prophet. But even as a prophet, his position and ministry went beyond those of the older prophets. They prophesied at Jerusalem, in Israel, or among the captive or returned people. John the Baptist separates himself from the people; he lives in the desert.
The message matched the place. His call to repent rested on a different footing from theirs.
John's appeal rested on ruin that could not be undone, while the appeal of the older prophets always assumed the people could still return to the Lord as a nation. Like them, John the Baptist had certainly preached repentance, but a repentance founded on ruin beyond remedy.
One writer draws a careful line. John's greatness came from the job he was given, not from the man he was.
John's greatness, however, was relative, not absolute — official, not personal. He was a light-bearer (John 5:35), but not the Light itself, though he bore witness to the Light. Still, he stood above all the prophets and messengers of God since the world began, because he alone among them saw his own predictions about the Messiah fulfilled, and as the great forerunner he could say of One standing in front of him: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!"
Two verses later the Lord says the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than John. The comparison is about position, not merit.
He certainly is not speaking of any public display of greatness in the eyes of the world, for John had none of that. Nor is He speaking of moral greatness, though John's moral character was no doubt exemplary. He speaks rather of the greatness of the place John was given as the forerunner of the Messiah. This also explains His last statement, that a lesser one in the kingdom of heaven was greater than John. He means the greatness of the position believers are given today, compared with any position that was possible before Christ was presented to Israel in grace.
- Nearness. John's greatness came from one thing — how close he stood to Christ as His immediate forerunner.
- Not a reed. The wilderness proved it. A man after attention goes to kings' courts, not a desert.
- More. Other prophets foretold the Messiah; Malachi foretold John. He alone lived to see his own predictions fulfilled.
- Office, not self. His standing was official rather than personal — a light-bearer, never the Light.
- Surpassed. Position, not merit: the least in the kingdom of heaven now stands greater than John.
this is he of whom it is written, Behold, *I* send my messenger before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee.
John sat in prison with his confidence shaken. He had just sent his disciples to ask whether Jesus was the coming One. The Lord answers the crowd by reaching back to Malachi's prophecy about a messenger sent ahead. That verse says as much about the One announced as about the man who announces Him.
John's weakness did not cost him his honour. Jesus handled correction and praise in different settings.
He sent a little rebuke to John privately through his disciples. But before the crowds He clothes him with honour... "A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet." This was because John had a special place and honour given to no other prophet. He was the immediate forerunner of the Lord, the herald of the Messiah Himself. John was not only a prophet; the prophets prophesied of John.
Many men carried God's word to Israel. Only one man held the role this verse describes.
He was the immediate forerunner of the Messiah. God put singular honour on him. There were many prophets; there was but one John, but one who could be the messenger before His face.
In Malachi, God speaks in the first person, using His own name, Jehovah. He promises to send a messenger ahead of Himself. In this verse the pronoun changes: the messenger goes ahead of Jesus.
Jehovah's word to Malachi is, "Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before Me." The Spirit applies these words to Christ. He says, "Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way." Jesus of the New Testament is the Jehovah of the Old Testament.
The words come from Jesus, not from John.
The Lord Jesus refers to the same passage when He bears witness to His devoted servant. He quotes it in the same way, even at a moment when John's faith seemed to have passed under a cloud. John never applies it to himself.
Two prophets spoke of John, and he and his Master each used a different one.
He was the "prophet of the Most High," and indeed much more than a prophet — the immediate forerunner of the Lord, going before His face to prepare His way. But it is well to see that while he humbled himself in line with the prophecy of Isaiah (John 1:23), the Lord exalted him in line with the prophecy of Malachi.
Jesus quotes only the first part of Malachi 3:1 and stops. He does not carry the rest of the prophecy over with it.
The Lord, in Matt. 11:10, warrants our personal application of Mal. 3:1 to the Baptist, stopping short of the verses that follow, which await His coming again.
Being the forerunner puts John at a boundary line.
John was the "Elijah" of the first coming, and he marked the end of an era. The age of law and prophets ran up to him. From his day onward the kingdom of heaven was open, if there was the "violence" or vigour of faith to get in... Still, the least person inside the kingdom would have a position greater than this great man. He prepared the way but did not live to enter it himself.
- Sent — John's greatness lies in his commission. He is the one messenger the prophets foretold, sent ahead of the King Himself.
- Face — Malachi's "before Me" becomes "before your face" in the Lord's words about John. Commentators read this as Scripture identifying Jesus of the New Testament with the Jehovah of the Old.
- Prepare — his whole task was to make the road ready for Another. John used Isaiah's words to humble himself; the Lord used Malachi's words to honour him.
- Vindicated — Jesus praised John at the very moment John's faith wavered in prison. The rebuke stayed private; the honour was public.
- Surpassed — John closes the old order as the greatest of those who prepared the way. Yet the least person inside the kingdom holds a greater place than he did.
Verily I say to you, that there is not arisen among [the] born of women a greater than John the baptist. But he who is a little one in the kingdom of the heavens is greater than he.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But from the days of John the baptist until now, the kingdom of the heavens is taken by violence, and [the] violent seize on it.
John's work is over, people are refusing the King, and the Lord marks the moment as a turning point for Israel. This is one of the hardest sayings in the Gospel. In what sense does the kingdom suffer violence? And who are "the violent" — those pressing in, or those shutting others out?
The Lord dates His words: "from the days of John the Baptist until now." Until John, Israel had a settled order to live in. After him, everything hung on a kingdom that was preached but not yet set up.
Israel was placed by God on that footing until John's ministry. They had only to keep the law, and to rejoice in the hope given by the prophets, and all was well. This was no longer the case after John. The kingdom was not established; if it had been, the power of God would have settled everything. Order and peace would have reigned... But it was not so; the kingdom was only preached. Only the energy of faith, going through sufferings, could seize it. Satan and the leaders of the nation would do all they could to stop people from entering.
Some have taken the verse as proof that the kingdom was already in place. Commentators answer that it says less than that.
Neither Matthew 11:12 nor Luke 16:16 teaches more than this: the kingdom of heaven was preached, or presented to faith. Neither says that it was in being or established at that time.
That unsettled state is what made force necessary.
It was no longer a question of swimming with the stream, even in Israel, and with the Messiah present. He will act in all-conquering power another day, when He appears in glory. Now the believer must break with natural ties in the energy of faith. He must rise above obstacles when they are least expected and at their thickest. The kingdom of the heavens is taken by such force as this: only those who can resist in this way seize it.
The violence is not aimed at God. It falls on a man's own ties.
Man had failed completely under the old system. His heart was bitterly opposed to the new kingdom and to all that came with it. So no one could enter except at the risk, or even the cost, of everything. It was only by bursting every tie, doing violence to all the dictates and interests of nature, that anyone could enter in.
The people who did press in were ordinary.
Christ preached that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. If a man believed the message — a fisherman, a tax collector, or anyone else — he had to press through difficulties. He had to force his way against people and prejudices to take kingdom ground. With everybody against him, he had to take his place with Christ by force.
Commentators differ on who "the violent" are. One reading points to the religious leaders.
The Pharisees rejected the forerunner, John, with violence. This foreshadowed the rejection of the King, the rejection of the preaching of the Kingdom, and the Kingdom itself. In seizing on the Kingdom in this way — rejecting it — the Kingdom of the Heavens suffered violence. It was rejected by force, and now it is put off until He comes again.
Others say the words will not carry that sense.
They could not "seize upon it," though they could block the way of those who were trying to enter. But their opposition drove the ones who wanted it for themselves to use violence.
The verse is often preached as if a sinner must struggle hard enough to win God's favour.
The violent who take the Kingdom by violence are not unsaved sinners who must take salvation by force. Salvation is by grace. It is God's free gift. The sinner is not saved by his violent efforts, but by believing in the Lord Jesus Christ.
Where does the energy to press through come from?
It was grace, without doubt, that supplied the energy and courage to hate father, mother, brother, sister, houses and lands — yes, and a man's own life — for Christ's sake. Still, this was the way grace led a man to act.
- Hinge — until John, Israel kept the law and rested on the prophets' hope. From his days the kingdom is preached, and every hearer must answer it.
- Announced — the kingdom was preached and presented to faith, not yet set up in power. Had it been set up, God's power would have settled everything.
- Force — the violence is faith breaking with natural ties and prejudices. The believer takes his place with Christ against the stream.
- Disputed — some read "the violent" as the leaders who rejected the kingdom. Others say the leaders could block the door, but never seize the kingdom itself.
- Grace — the effort buys nothing. Salvation is God's free gift, and grace supplies the energy to press through.
For all the prophets and the law have prophesied unto John.
Neither the law nor the prophets were an end in themselves. Both pointed forward to something still to come. John was the man who could say it had arrived.
"All the prophets and the law prophesied until John": they all pointed onward to the time of which John was able to say, "It is just at hand." It was for him to change the whole character of the testimony given until then. It was for him to sound the note of Jubilee. That note announced a Kingdom not of earth but of heaven, with the King Himself already at the door.
Jesus says the law prophesied too, not only the prophets. Its rules and rituals were a form of prediction. In picture form they showed what man needed and who would meet that need.
The law prescribed commandments, and Israel fatally pledged themselves to obey them. At the same time it contained many ritual observances. These testified to man's inability and need. They prophesied of One who, while they were still without strength, should in due time die for the ungodly. As a covenant of works, it was a ministry of death. But to anyone who was truly a child of Abraham, it must have shone out with a prophetic glory, like the face of Moses. It pointed onwards to the Lamb of God. In Him all the shadows of good things to come passed into substance.
The verse names the law and the prophets together, but they did not do the same work. One set the standard. The other kept people looking to it and kept hope alive in those who believed.
The law was the rule; the prophets, maintaining the rule, strengthened the hopes and the faith of the remnant.
The prophets saw the Messiah far off. John preached the kingdom as arriving.
After the law, the rule of God's government on earth, the prophets showed the coming Messiah, His sufferings and glories. But they saw it far off, and called people back to the law. They did not announce the kingdom as coming then. The law and the prophets were until John. By him the kingdom is preached.
Everything ran up to John, and nothing ran past him. He stands at the close of one order and the announcement of another.
Prophecy had foretold that he would fill the nearest place, as Forerunner. He was also a pivot man, for "All the prophets and the law prophesied until John." He came in at the end of one order of things but spoke of another.
John also closes the Old Testament line of prophets.
It is very transitional. It shows clearly you are on the verge of something new. John was the last of the prophets... So John the Baptist finishes the list as far as the Old Testament prophets are concerned.
Prophecy has reached the One it spoke about. So the system that carried it has finished its work. Commentators draw a practical conclusion: to go back under the law is to go back to a stage God has closed.
My answer is the Scripture which says, "All the prophets and the law prophesied until John." (At the very least, some change was coming when Christ came.) And, "The law was our schoolmaster unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith." But after faith has come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster.
The words about the schoolmaster come from an older translation; the ESV reads "guardian" there.
When these earlier ministries close, what is left is not an empty space but a Person.
John the Baptist has vanished. The One whose herald he had been remains alone. He alone can meet in grace the failure of His servant... He alone is the Centre of attraction for every poor sinner who thirsts for grace. He alone is the perfect Model for any who seek to be like Him. The law and the prophets come to an end. In Christ grace abides, set up for eternity, established forever.
- Pointed — the law and the prophets were a direction, not a destination. They pointed on to a time John could call "just at hand."
- Prophesied — even the law prophesied. Its rituals showed man's need and foretold One who would die for the ungodly.
- Paired — the law gave the rule. The prophets upheld it and strengthened the hope of the faithful, who still saw the Messiah far off.
- Pivot — John came in at the end of one order and spoke of another. He finished the list of prophets and stood at the edge of something new.
- Person — when the preparation ends, the One prepared for remains. The law and the prophets come to an end. In Christ grace is established forever.
And if ye will receive it, this is Elias, who is to come.
John the Baptist is in prison, his confidence is shaken, and Jesus defends him before the crowd. He ends with a claim wrapped in a condition: the Elijah that Malachi promised has already come — though John himself had denied being Elijah.
The last page of the Old Testament promised that God would send Elijah the prophet before the day of the Lord. Commentators explain that Jesus points to a likeness of ministry, not the return of the same man.
John was not the same person as Elijah. But his service before the Lord was "in the spirit and power of Elijah." His ministry had the same character as Elijah's, sternly pressing on Israel the guilt of their disobedience to the law... John was the forerunner of the Lord Jesus, so he had to stress the guilt of Israel and prepare their hearts to receive the grace of the Lord Jesus.
The clause "if you are willing to accept it" is not decoration. It hands the matter to faith. That is why John could deny being Elijah, and Jesus could still call him Elijah.
So John was Elijah to all who received him. To those who refused him he was not. The people who asked him if he was Elijah were the very people who refused his testimony and later crucified the One to Whom John bore witness. To them he certainly was not Elijah. But to simple souls like the disciples he just as surely was.
The puzzle clears once you see that the Messiah comes twice: once in shame, once in glory. A forerunner who suffers, with little to show for it, fits the first coming, not the second.
Like the Lord (Son of Man as well as Messiah), his testimony and his lot had to match a coming in shame and sorrow as well as in power and glory. The Jews cared only for the power and glory... So, for faith, Elijah did come ("if you are willing to accept it") in John the Baptist. John testified in humiliation, and his results looked small and short-lived in men's eyes. But Elijah will come in a way that matches the return of the Lord to deliver Israel and bless the world under His reign.
A real offer stood open. If the nation had accepted John, and the King he announced, the promise about Elijah would have been fulfilled in him.
If they received the Lord Jesus, the kingdom might be established. The curse still hanging over the people might be set aside, and relationships in Israel restored according to God. In that case the future mission of Elijah would not be needed. John the Baptist had come in the spirit and power of Elijah, and he would fill the place, so to speak, of the future prophet.
The words also shut a door.
John came in the spirit and power of Elijah, and it laid the responsibility upon them. They could not say, this cannot be Messiah, because Elijah must come first. They were left without excuse.
The nation refused John. So, commentators say, Malachi's promise still waits for a later fulfilment.
John the Baptist came in the character of Elijah. He was the prophet who was to come before "the great and awesome day of the Lord," to reach the hearts of the people, if they had received him. But only a few received him, and so John told the Jews that he was not Elijah. Elijah's ministry, then, still waits to be fulfilled before Christ appears in glory.
Commentators differ on who that future messenger will be. Some expect the prophet Elijah in person. Others doubt it, because of what Jesus says here.
That he was not literally Elijah only shows, or seems to show, this: someone who was not Elijah could have fulfilled the prediction, given the right conditions. Other words of the Lord show even more strongly that for that day and generation he was Elijah. He said, "I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but did to him whatever they pleased." Why, then, could not another, coming in his spirit and power, fulfil the prophecy in the future day?
- Character, not identity. John was not Elijah come back. He served "in the spirit and power of Elijah," pressing Israel's guilt home to prepare hearts for grace.
- Faith decides. The "if" hands the claim to faith. John was Elijah to those who received him, and not to those who refused him.
- Two comings. A humbled forerunner matched a humbled Messiah. A forerunner in power belongs to the coming in glory.
- A real offer. If the nation had received John and his King, the kingdom could have come. No future Elijah would have been needed.
- No excuse. By naming John as Elijah, Jesus removed the last objection and left the responsibility on each hearer.
He that has ears to hear, let him hear.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But to whom shall I liken this generation? It is like children sitting in the markets, which, calling to their companions,
Jesus has just spoken about John the Baptist. Now He turns from the messenger to the crowd that heard him, and compares them not to hardened enemies but to children playing games in a public square.
The markets were full of the serious business of life. There the Lord pictures children who are only sitting and playing.
But where was the fitting response to John's ministry, which called men to repentance? Or to the ministry of the Lord Jesus, which brought in the precious age of grace? Instead of recognizing God's voice in both, "this generation" were like children sitting in the markets. That is, they were childish and idle, though the serious realities of life surrounded them.
Commentators differ on which side of the game the generation stands. One reading puts them at the pipe: they set the tune and expected God's servants to perform.
That generation as a whole could only be compared to children sitting in the market-place. They played at life: they wanted John to dance when they piped, and the Lord and His disciples to weep when they mourned. They understood neither the one nor the other, because they were too careless to understand.
Others hear the pipe in God's hand, testing what response the human heart can give.
God had now put man fully to the test, speaking to him through different ministries, but man had no answer for God. When He mourned to him, man had no tears; when He piped to him, man had no dancing. The human heart proved to be no instrument for the finger of God. All was out of tune, when God tried it.
The two tunes match two very different ministries. One brought strict righteousness, the other free grace, and this generation liked neither.
They were displeased with John and with Jesus alike, content neither with law nor with grace. Men do not like righteousness — that is too strict for them; neither do they like grace — that is too free. They would have part of one and part of the other.
The refusal was not quiet. They resented both ministries, and turned the second into an insult.
John did not dance to their music. He came neither eating nor drinking — that is, he did not join their celebrations, for he had a solemn message of repentance to preach. They resented this. On the other hand, the Son of Man had come among men in grace, eating and drinking with them. They resented that He was not mourning, and dared to accuse Him of being a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.
The word is not just a headcount of the people alive at that moment. It describes what kind of people they were.
The meaning here is moral, not a matter of time. In Deuteronomy 32:5, 20 we find "generation" used the same way. It does not stand for a period of time. It expresses the moral character of Israel.
This verse marks a shift in Matthew. Up to this point the King is offered to the nation. Here His rejection first shows plainly.
In this Gospel the first plain sign that the kingdom is rejected comes with the change of teaching in Matthew 11:16. Until then the kingdom had been presented to the nation in the person of the King.
Not everyone in that generation played the game. Some heard both tunes and agreed with God about each.
Wisdom's children were those whose consciences God had taught. They accepted the truth of John's testimony, even though it spoke against them. They also accepted the grace of the ways of Jesus — grace that the guilty so badly need.
- Marketplace. The Lord pictures this generation as children idling in the market — childish and unoccupied, though the serious realities of life surround them.
- Piping. The game has two tunes. Commentators differ on who holds the pipe: the crowd demanding that God's servants perform, or God testing a heart that gives back no music.
- Refusal. They found John's righteousness too strict and Christ's grace too free. They resented John's call to repentance, and called Jesus a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.
- Character. "This generation" describes a kind of person, not a span of years. Deuteronomy 32 uses the word in the same way.
- Exception. Wisdom's children are the ones whose consciences accepted John's verdict against themselves. They also welcomed the grace that the guilty need.
say, We have piped to you, and ye have not danced we have mourned to you, and ye have not wailed.
The picture is a street game gone wrong. Children call out to playmates who will not join in, whatever tune they play. Jesus uses it to describe the people of His own day. If neither a funeral song nor a dance tune moves them, what would?
A marketplace is where adults do serious business. The children in the story do nothing of the kind.
Instead of recognizing God's voice in both cases, "this generation" were like children sitting in the markets. That is, they were childish and also idle, though surrounded by the serious realities of life. They called out to others and complained. The others had not danced to their music, and had not lamented when they mourned.
The piping and the mourning are not random images. They match two ministries the nation had just witnessed.
He was the one who "mourned" to them, for he had about him the same stern manner that had marked the prophet Elijah. He was strict and kept himself apart. In his ministry he kept putting his finger on the weakest spots in the lives of his hearers. They paid no real attention to him and did not "lament." Then came the blessed Lord Jesus Christ with news of grace. He mixed with men, He went to their feasts, He worked miracles in grace on their behalf.
The refusal was not about taste. The same people were unhappy with both messengers.
Equally displeased with John and with Jesus, content neither with law nor with grace. Men do not like righteousness — that is too strict for them. Neither do they like grace — that is too free. They would have part of one and part of the other.
Commentators differ on which side of the game the unbelieving generation stands. One reading puts them in the seat of the complaining children, demanding that God's messengers perform to their tune.
They treated pleasure as a game. They treated sorrow as a game too, even the sorrow that lay on man because of his sins. They wanted John to dance to their piping. They wanted Jesus and His disciples to beat their breasts to their idle funeral song. The ways of God never suited them.
The other reading reverses it: God is the one playing, and man is the instrument that will not sound.
God had now been making full proof of him, addressing him by different ministries, but man had no answer for God. When He mourned to him, man had no tears; when He piped to him, he had no dancing. The human heart proved to be no instrument for the finger of God. All was out of tune when God tried it… He would have raised a solemn note through John the Baptist, who came neither eating nor drinking. Then He would have raised a more joyful one through the sociable Son of Man. But there was no music in the heart of man for God.
Turning down John's call to repentance closed the door on everything that came after him.
They refused the lesser testimony, so they never passed into the greater things — the reality from God. Their own consciences ought to have proved it true. Because they refused it, they were not ready to receive the gift of His grace. A person receives Christ to salvation only in the conscience. Feeling and understanding will never do alone.
Not everyone refused. Wisdom's children are the exception.
The men of that generation rejected both alike. One was the stern and distant minister of righteousness, with the axe of judgement in his hand. The other was the lowly, gentle Minister of divine grace, with words of tenderness and acts of goodness. But wisdom's children will always justify her, in all her doings and in all her sayings. … What a privilege to be one of that favoured group, wisdom's children! To have an eye to see, an ear to hear, and a heart to understand and appreciate the ways and works and words of divine Wisdom!
- Two tunes. John mourned to them with a call to repentance; Jesus piped to them with grace. God sounded both notes. That generation refused both.
- One refusal. The same crowd called John too strict and Jesus too free. The problem was never the messenger's style. It was the hearer's heart.
- Idle players. Children play games in a marketplace of serious business. They judge God's ministry by whether it entertains them.
- A closed door. Turning down John's smaller testimony left them unready for the greater gift in Christ. The conscience must be at work; feeling alone will never do.
- Wisdom's children. A few heard both tunes and answered — and that eye to see and ear to hear is itself a privilege, not an achievement.
For John has come neither eating nor drinking, and they say, He has a demon.
Jesus looks back at John the Baptist's ministry and repeats the verdict His generation passed on him. John gave up ordinary comforts and called the nation to repent, so why did they answer him with the charge of having a demon?
The phrase points to a whole way of life, not one missed meal. John lived outside the settled world of his hearers. Everything about him preached before he spoke a word.
John the Baptist had come in a completely different way, and in a way that was naturally more striking. He had come as a man who separated himself from everyone alike, and did so completely. He preached in the wilderness of Judea. He was never seen in their cities and never took part in their religious ceremonies, though he came from a priestly family. With his strange, unfashionable coat of camel's hair and his food of locusts and wild honey, he stood apart from men, calling a whole nation to repent and to flee from the coming wrath.
His going without wine was not just personal taste. It had a name in Israel.
They did not answer his message; they labelled the man. They gave Jesus the opposite label for the opposite life.
John, separate from the iniquity of the nation, had, in their eyes, a devil. Jesus, kind to the most wretched, they accused of falling in with evil ways.
Their charge was an excuse. It let them treat God's way as madness instead of answering it.
The ways of God never suited them. If John came in the way of righteousness, and so with his call to repentance, they said he had a demon — he would drive us among the tombs.
The same people who found John too severe went on to find Jesus too free. The problem was never the messenger's style.
Israel was equally displeased with John and with Jesus, content neither with law nor with grace. Men do not like righteousness; it is too strict for them. They do not like grace either; it is too free. They would have part of one and part of the other.
God tried two opposite approaches. Both drew a blank.
By the Baptist, who came neither eating nor drinking, God would have raised a solemn tone. By the sociable Son of man He would have raised a more joyful one. But there was no music in the heart of man for God. This was proved after the most skilful hands had made the trial.
Man's verdict was not the last word on John. The insult tied him to his Master instead of shaming him.
It is a blessed thing to see John linked with His Master in persecution and death. "John came neither eating nor drinking." His home was the desert and his food locusts and wild honey. "They say, 'He has a demon.'" Through John came one of the greatest revivals Israel had known, yet his head was traded away for a dance. He stands out clearly in God's roll of honour.
- Separation. John's fasting was the Nazarite life lived out — no wine, no city, no share in the ordinary cheer of the people he warned.
- Slander. That separation earned him the charge of having a demon. It was a quick way to dismiss a man whose righteousness showed up the nation.
- Symmetry. The same generation then accused Jesus of falling in with evil ways. Too strict for them in John, too free in Jesus — content with neither law nor grace.
- Diagnosis. God tried the solemn note and the joyful one. Neither drew music from the human heart — the fault lay in the instrument, not the player.
- Vindication. Man's verdict on John was "demon"; God set him in His roll of honour — and the insult only tied him closer to the Master who was slandered next.
The Son of man has come eating and drinking, and they say, Behold, a man [that is] eating and wine-drinking, a friend of tax-gatherers, and of sinners -- and wisdom has been justified by her children.
In Matthew 11 the crowd finds fault with John the Baptist for fasting and with the Lord for eating and drinking. God sent both messengers, and the verse closes with one short reply about wisdom's children.
"A friend of tax collectors and sinners" was an attack, not praise. The word "friend" carried real weight.
They worked on the idea that you know a man by the company he keeps. So they hinted that He was like tax collectors and immoral people in character and tastes. There was a sting in this charge that He was a "friend" of such people. Friend is a very strong word in a Jewish context. The word puts one person in debt to another. It lays an obligation on both people in the friendship. But in this verse Christ shows that receiving God's grace changes the sinner. Grace is the source of true holiness, not of loose living.
One writer looks at what that friendship let Him do.
His friendship toward the sinner was one of His distinctive glories. True, He was holy, harmless, and undefiled in all His ways. Yet by that friendship He could pardon the guilty. He could do more than speak of paradise to a criminal who repented. And yet men branded Him for such grace! Blessed brand!
The verse before pictures children who will not dance when others play music, and will not cry when others mourn. The Lord turns that picture on two very different messengers.
John was like the children who "mourned": he called the people to repentance. The Lord was like those who "piped": He brought the sweet music of grace to all. The first came with the sternness of a prophet, standing apart from a people under judgment. The second made Himself easy to approach, so that He might, if it were possible, win the trust of sinners for God. Neither testimony found any echo. Men rejected both witnesses. They did worse than that: they accused John of having a demon, and Christ of sharing in the sins of those He came to save.
He "came eating and drinking." He lived among ordinary people, with none of the outward marks of a strict holy man. That cost Him nothing in holiness.
John the Baptist was a literal Nazirite — set apart by vow, abstaining from wine and much else. He came neither eating nor drinking, and the thanks he got was that he had a demon. The Son of Man came eating and drinking. He was a Man with men. The blessed Lord did not need any external self-righteous separation. His holy soul was fully separate to His Father, and He needed no outward sign to prove it. When they called Him a glutton and a drunkard, the lie was so plain that it needed no answer.
Some copies read "works" here, as the ESV does with "her deeds." Others read "her children." One writer holds to "children."
The contrast is with "this generation." In the verses that follow, the Lord shows that generation as the object of more than outward judgment, while wisdom's children are the objects of the Father's sovereign grace. For the works of the Wisdom of God to prove her right seems obvious. For her children to prove her right is a weighty truth.
To "justify" wisdom is to declare God right. One writer, on the same saying in Luke, says no one can do that while claiming to be better than the people grace reaches.
Justifying God is the great point of true righteousness inside a person. That righteousness is wholly lost in us. We can only own it in Another, and own it as sinners. First we own it under John the Baptist, the ministry of repentance, where we admit that we stand rightly condemned. Then we own it in grace, in God's ways toward us as sinners. We cannot justify grace shown to the chief of sinners, and to everyone alike, unless we put ourselves in that place.
Wisdom still has children. One writer names what sets them apart.
Wisdom's children will always justify her, in all she does and all she says. The Lord be praised for this rich mercy! What a privilege to be one of that favoured number! To have an eye to see, an ear to hear, and a heart to understand and value the ways and works and words of divine Wisdom!
- Charge — They meant "friend of tax collectors and sinners" as a slur about shared obligation. He wore it as one of His glories.
- Contrast — John mourned, Jesus piped. God sent both messages, and one generation refused both.
- Freedom — He came eating and drinking, a Man among men. His heart was separate to His Father, so He needed no outward badge.
- Verdict — Works proving wisdom right would be obvious. Children proving her right means real people declare God right.
- Proof — Only those who admit they are sinners can justify grace shown to sinners. Those who do become wisdom's children, the living proof that she was right.