Listen now Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

I was in the car last Sunday afternoon. Turned the radio on, and the first thing I heard was something along the lines of this:

‘Imagine. It’s the middle of the night; there’s the sound of rushing water downstairs; the lights have gone out; no internet connection; no mobile reception; no battery on your phone. Would you know what to do? Would you know where to get help? Do you know your neighbours? Do you have a torch? A wind-up radio? Do you have a ‘go’ bag? Are you ready?’

The programme was about a growing group of people around the world who call themselves ‘preppers.’

Some have sheds full of tinned food. Some have water purifiers, solar chargers and radios that crank like old toys. Some have escape plans, maps, seeds, and plenty of spare batteries. Some are preparing for storms and some for war. And some simply like knowing that they have a plan, just in case.

At its best, prepping is not about fear but readiness. At its worst, it becomes a kind of anxious self-salvation, a belief that if everything falls apart, ‘I can fix it. I can survive it.’

And into that world, with its mix of wisdom and worry, comes our Gospel reading.

John the Baptist: The original prepper

John the Baptist was, in many ways, the first great religious prepper.

He lived in the wilderness. He wore rough clothing. He lived off the land. He preached about the crisis to come and the need to be ready. His whole ministry was, fundamentally: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; get your life ready for God’s arrival.’

John prepared Israel for what God was about to do. He cleared the spiritual ground. He sounded the alarm. And people listened.

But in Matthew 11, something unexpected is happening. This fiery prophet, this bold truth-teller, this confident herald of God’s coming kingdom is in prison – and he’s no longer quite so sure.

Not quite so neat

John sends his disciples to Jesus with a question: ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we wait for another?’

This is John. John, who baptised Jesus. John, who saw the Spirit descend. John, who preached with absolute clarity.

But now he doubts. Because the Messiah he prepared for is not quite the Messiah Jesus seems to be. John had prepped for judgment – axe at the root, winnowing fork in hand, fire for the chaff.

But Jesus is healing. Eating and drinking with sinners. Announcing mercy. Not overthrowing Rome. Not raising an army. Not pulling the kingdom down with force.

John had the right Messiah but the wrong expectations.

Preppers often imagine a specific future – a particular scenario they can plan for. A predictable crisis that they can solve with enough supplies. But the real world rarely behaves that neatly. And God rarely behaves that neatly either.

Jesus’ answer: look for the signs

Jesus does not criticise John’s doubt. Jesus doesn’t shame him for uncertainty. Jesus doesn’t say: ‘How dare you question me!’ Instead, Jesus says: ‘Go tell John what you hear and what you see.’

And then He points to the signs spoken of by the prophet Isaiah: The blind see. The lame walk. The lepers are cleansed. The deaf hear. The dead are raised. The poor receive good news.

In other words: ‘John, the kingdom is coming – just not in the way you imagined.’

Jesus offers evidence. Not rebuke – but signs of life, whispers of restoration, signals of hope.

John had prepared the path, but even he needed to learn that God’s arrival doesn’t always match our survival plans.

Christian readiness

What does this say to us, in a culture increasingly anxious about the future?

Christians are called to prepare – but not as stockpilers of fear. The Church’s kind of preparedness should not be about hoarding resources but opening our hands. Not about protecting ourselves but being available to others. Not about building bunkers but building community. Not about saving our own skins – but trusting the God who brings life out of death.

John’s mistake was not about lack of preparation – his mistake was assuming he understood exactly how God was going to act. And Jesus gently corrects him.

When our plans don’t match God’s path

Many of us have moments like John’s. We thought God would act one way – restore a relationship, heal a sickness, close a door, open a door, fix a problem. But the answer came differently, or slowly, or not at all.

We prepared for one outcome and discovered God was working on something deeper, quieter, more restorative than we expected.

Just like John’s question echoes through prison walls, our question echoes too: ‘Lord… is this really you? Are you working, even when I don’t see it? Is this still your kingdom coming?’ And Jesus’ answer is the same: ‘Look for the signs.’

Where life breaks through. Where compassion lifts someone up. Where forgiveness mends what was shattered. Where the poor hear good news. Where the wounded begin to walk again. Where despair loosens its hold and hope takes a breath.

That is the kingdom. Breaking in quietly. Breaking in gently. Breaking in persistently. Sometimes in spite of us. Sometimes through us.

The least

You might have missed it, but Jesus finishes with something remarkable: ‘Among those born of women no one greater has arisen than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.’

John – the great wilderness preacher, the fearless prophet, the original kingdom-prepper – is surpassed by the most ordinary believer who simply follows Jesus in trust.

That ordinary believer is us. Us with our doubts, us with our cracks, us with our questions, us with our unfinished faith – we are called into a kingdom where even the smallest act carries eternal weight.

Because Christian readiness is not measured by how much we can secure but by how deeply we love, how faithfully we follow, how freely we trust the God who is already at work.

Signs of grace

Perhaps the best Advent preparation is not stockpiling our cupboards but clearing our hearts. Not tightening our grip but loosening it. Not anxiously imagining disaster but faithfully watching for signs of grace. Not waiting for the world to fall apart but waiting for Christ to come and put it back together.

Christian preppers don’t build fortresses – they build hope. They stand like John, sometimes unsure, sometimes questioning, but always listening for the footsteps of the One who brings sight to the blind and strength to the weary, and who is, even now, coming toward us.

In this season, may we prepare – not by fearfully guarding against the future, but by joyfully trusting the God who is already in it.

And that radio programme? After going through some Domesday scenarios, it ended quite gently, really. The narrator said that we could all do with being a little bit more prepared. A little bit more ready. But to start modestly and make sure we had some spare batteries to hand – and to get to know our neighbours now, before we find that we really need them, and they really need us. Which is good advice, don’t you think? Amen.

‘Prepping for what comes next’ was delivered by Ian Banks at St Margaret’s, Heywood on Sunday 14th December 2025. It was based on Matthew 11:2-11.

Reference

For the Radio 4 programme:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002n7mh