When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”
Matthew 11:2-6 NRSVUE

John the Baptist, the voice in the wilderness, the prophet who dared to speak truth to power, finds himself behind bars. And from that place of confinement, John asks a hauntingly human question:

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” This is not a question from an unbeliever.

This is a question from someone faithful, tired, disappointed, and confused.

And that matters, because it tells us something important: doubt does not cancel faith. Suffering does not erase calling. Joy, in Scripture, is not the absence of struggle.

What kind of joy are we talking about? Let me be clear: when we talk about joy, we are not talking about being cheerful all the time.

Joy is not a mood.
Joy is not hype.
Joy is not pretending everything is okay.

Biblical joy is deeper than happiness. Joy is a deep, abiding inner assurance, a settled confidence rooted in a relationship with God.

It’s the kind of joy that can exist even when the prison door stays closed, the kind of joy John needed while he was behind bars.

Galatians 5:22 says: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace…”

Notice the word fruit. Fruit is never manufactured by effort alone. Fruit grows when a tree is rooted, nourished, and abiding. You don’t yell at a tree to bear fruit. You don’t shame it into producing. Fruit is the natural evidence that life is flowing through it.

Which means, if joy is fruit, then joy is not the goal – grace is the source.

So What do we mean by a graceful ministry? A graceful ministry is not driven by pressure. It is not fueled by proving yourself. It is not obsessed with performance, productivity, or approval. A grace-driven ministry flows from this truth:

God’s love is already given.
God’s power is already at work.
God’s grace is already enough.

It knows: This is not about my strength. This is not about my perfection. This is about Christ’s work, not my résumé. That kind of ministry is marked by:

Humility instead of control
Patience instead of urgency
Presence instead of performance

And when ministry flows from grace, joy shows up. Not loud joy. Not flashy joy. But resilient joy. The kind that keeps showing up. The kind that listens without fixing. The kind that stays when it’s uncomfortable.

This is exactly what Jesus shows us in Matthew 11:2-5. John sends word from prison, asking if Jesus is truly the Messiah. Notice what Jesus does not say.

He does not say: “Try harder.” “Believe more.” or “Get it together.” Instead, Jesus says: “Go and tell John what you hear and see.” And then He lists evidence of grace at work:

the blind receive sight
the lame walk
the sick are cleansed
the deaf hear
the dead are raised
the poor receive good news

Jesus points John not to spectacle, but to restoration. Not to power, but to presence. Even in the presence of miracles, even in the middle of grace, questions still existed. John still asked. And I relate to that.

Fact 1: I am a queer woman. Fact 2: I am a Christian.

I am both of these at once. And I no longer hide who I am to make anyone else comfortable. Just like John, I am a discomfort for other people—sometimes even to my own family. I have lost relationships because of who I am and what I choose to do.

But standing fully in who I am has taught me something about Jesus: His grace makes room. Jesus’ ministry was not about shrinking people. It was about revealing truth and widening belonging. Yet even in the midst of grace, questions still exist.

Even when I volunteer to contribute to this church—as your Hermana, your Community Connect Facilitator, your Inang Martha, and just your fellow churchmate—there are days I ask myself:

“Am I really helping?”
“Am I really showing up the way people need me to?”
“Am I enough?”
“Or… bida-bida ka lang? OA ka naman?”

I have doubts. I have insecurities. But why do I still keep going? When Jesus did not condemn John. He responded with grace. And I realize: doubt does not disqualify me. Showing up is already ministry.

I know that Grace is often uncomfortable. Grace stretches us. It challenges us. It calls us to love beyond what feels safe.

Grace moves toward pain.
Grace listens to the silenced.
Grace meets the messy, the broken, the desperate.
Grace reaches into the hardest places and says: You are seen. You are heard. You are loved.

And maybe that’s why this Scripture feels personal to me. I often find myself surrounded by people in pain. Many times, people open up to me about their hurt, their traumas, their vulnerable selves.

Sometimes I joke na “parang magnet ako” …ehh ha? Bakit sa dami-dami ng puwedeng maattract… problema pa? Na para bang Google Drive ako ng chismis?

But as I reflected with my wife Mikay, she made me realize: “Maybe you don’t attract problems. Maybe you just refuse to turn away.”

The truth is: I don’t receive people’s stories because I’m weak or strong. I receive them because I give the grace of willingness to listen.

I practice ministry by being present:

Someone who listens without judgment
Someone who holds space
Someone who says, “Your story is safe here.”

I will give you a seat at the table. I choose to be present. And maybe, to me, that’s what a graceful ministry looks like: choosing compassion over control, curiosity over judgment, presence over perfection.

Jesus said in Matthew 11:6: “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”

The word “offended” comes from a Greek term that literally means “to stumble” or “to be tripped up.” It’s an invitation to stand firm in faith, even when following Jesus feels hard, messy, or different from what we expect.

There is great blessing in holding on, in trusting Him, and in continuing to walk with Him, knowing that He is faithful, even when the path is unclear or challenging.

Ministry is not a title, a pulpit, or a program. It’s presence. It’s staying when it’s easier to walk away. It’s listening to someone who’s been silenced. It’s letting someone fall apart without trying to fix them.

Even in the face of broken systems, injustice, and chaos, choosing to show up with compassion is a radical act of hope. It makes grace visible. In a world like this, it’s natural to feel small and powerless. To wonder:

“Can my small presence really make a difference?”
“Is showing up, listening, or offering help enough when problems feel enormous?”

This is exactly where grace steps in. This is exactly where ministry begins—not in grand gestures or perfect solutions, but in small, courageous acts of presence.

You don’t need training to begin. You don’t need perfect words. You don’t even need to feel ready.

Although, lest I get misunderstood, may mga bagay rin na kailangan ng training. Hindi pwedeng pastor na puro presence lang. Pero hindi rin pwedeng pastor na puro training lang, pero walang presence. Presence is the start and the beginning. There are ministries where puso at presence ang tanging kailangan.

Listen. Stay. Care. Again and again. With your heart open. Because maybe the holiest thing we can do… is to keep showing up:

Showing up for each other… messy, tired, hopeful.
Showing up when it would be easier to walk away.
Showing up when no one notices.
Showing up when it hurts.

The grace in showing up is a learning and training experience. Natututo rin tayo kapag when we show up.

The kind of grace that Jesus lived… a grace that meets people where the...