Matthew Chapter 3
Matthew 3:1–2 – “In those days John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, and saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!’”
John the Baptist appears suddenly in the Gospel narrative, yet his emergence fulfills divine planning announced long before by the prophets (cf. Isaiah 40:3; Malachi 3:1). His unique appearance “in those days” not only grounds the account historically but also marks the beginning of a new prophetic era, closing the 400-year silence since Malachi.
The phrase “in those days” (Greek: en de tais hēmerais ekeinais) indicates a solemn and epochal moment. It bridges the infancy narrative with the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, suggesting that God’s redemptive timetable is unfolding. Matthew is not merely recording chronology but situating the appearance of John as a theological pivot point between the Old Covenant and the coming kingdom.
John preaches “in the wilderness of Judea,” a location symbolic of both Israel’s covenant origins and their repeated need for spiritual renewal. The Judean wilderness recalls the Exodus generation’s formation in the desert and thus prepares the way for a new Exodus—this time led not by Moses, but by the Messiah. This location also aligns with Isaiah 40:3, where the “voice crying in the wilderness” prepares the way of the Lord.
John’s message is simple yet profound: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” The Greek word for repent (metanoeite) means to change one’s mind, to turn from sin to God. It is not merely emotional sorrow or regret, but an intellectual and volitional reversal—a reorientation of one’s whole life toward God. Repentance is not preparatory to faith; it is inherently part of genuine response to God.
John’s message echoes the prophetic tradition but stands unique in that he declares not merely a coming judgment or need for ethical reform, but the imminent arrival of a new reign—“the kingdom of heaven.” This term, unique to Matthew (32 occurrences), is synonymous with “kingdom of God” as used by Mark and Luke. Its purpose is reverential, avoiding the divine name directly. Yet, it emphasizes God’s sovereign, eschatological rule breaking into history.
Some dispensational interpreters distinguish between the “kingdom of heaven” as a millennial or Davidic earthly reign and the “kingdom of God” as a spiritual reality. However, Matthew’s usage shows the terms are often interchangeable. The arrival of the kingdom means the prophesied rule of Messiah is now dawning in the person of Jesus Christ.
John’s preaching thus becomes the theological doorway to understanding Jesus’ ministry. Repentance is the proper response to the announcement of the kingdom. As D.A. Carson notes, the message is not “repent so you can enter,” but “repent because the King is here.” Just as one cannot come to Los Angeles without leaving New York, one cannot enter the kingdom without turning away from self-rule and sin.
Historically, this moment also fulfills Isaiah 40:3 and Malachi 3:1. John’s role as forerunner is a divine appointment—his ministry inaugurates the final phase of redemptive history before Messiah is revealed. He is the last Old Testament prophet and the bridge to the New.
In summary, this brief passage contains theologically rich material. It marks:
The end of prophetic silence.
The emergence of the Messiah’s forerunner.
The dawn of the kingdom of heaven.
The necessity of repentance.
The convergence of Old Testament prophecy and New Testament fulfillment.
It rightly deserves its place as the opening word of gospel preaching: “Repent.” As the first word of John, Jesus, the apostles, and the early church, it sets the tone for how man is to respond to the presence of God in Christ.
Matthew 3:3–4 —
“For this is he who was spoken of by the prophet Isaiah, saying: ‘The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord; make His paths straight.”’ And John himself was clothed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist; and his food was locusts and wild honey.”
John the Baptist’s emergence is not merely a historical detail but a direct fulfillment of divine prophecy, specifically Isaiah 40:3. His role was to be the forerunner of the Messiah, a voice crying out to a nation wandering in spiritual desolation. The call to “prepare the way of the Lord” draws imagery from the ancient practice where servants would clear and level roads for an approaching king. In the same way, John's mission was to call people to repentance, clearing away the spiritual obstacles—pride, rebellion, ritualism—that prevented them from receiving their King.
To prepare the way means more than simply announcing His coming; it is a call to transformation. The “way” that must be made straight is the human heart. Just as roadbuilders must level ground and remove debris, so John’s message was a demand to confront sin, remove religious pretense, and make the heart a suitable highway for the King’s arrival.
The fact that John ministered “in the wilderness” is theologically rich. The wilderness in Scripture is a place of testing, purification, and divine encounter. Israel failed in the wilderness; John calls them back to that very place to begin anew. The symbolism is potent—this is a return to foundational obedience, not to temple ritualism or national pride, but to a heart humbled before God.
John’s appearance reinforced the severity and purity of his calling. His clothing—camel’s hair with a leather belt—immediately identifies him with the prophet Elijah (see 2 Kings 1:8), whose spirit and power John came in. He stood in sharp contrast to the religious leaders of the day, who wore flowing robes and enjoyed public praise. John was not a man of the palace or the temple but of the wilderness—a prophet, not a priest. His simple and austere life mirrored his message: radical repentance and total separation from the corruption of worldly religion.
His diet—locusts and wild honey—further emphasizes his separation. This was not a man driven by appetite or comfort. He lived on what God provided in the wilderness, much like Israel was once sustained by manna. Even in his diet, John modeled the message: return to dependence on the Lord, not on man-made systems. His very lifestyle was a rebuke to the indulgence and spiritual complacency of the nation.
John’s cry in the wilderness was not one of despair but of divine appointment. It was an urgent call: the Lord is coming. There must be no delay, no divided loyalty. Prepare the way. Every high place—pride, self-righteousness—must be brought low. Every valley—despair, guilt—must be lifted up. The King is at hand, and He will not walk a crooked road.
This passage also hints at the divinity of Christ. In Isaiah, the one for whom the way is prepared is “the LORD” (Yahweh). In Matthew, the way is for Jesus. The implication is unmistakable: Jesus is the LORD. He is not merely a prophet or teacher, but God in the flesh, and John is the forerunner promised long ago.
John’s ministry teaches us that every true work of God begins with preparation. Before revival comes repentance. Before Christ is enthroned, sin must be dethroned. And just as John's message confronted the religious establishment of his day, so too the gospel continues to confront every heart that clings to tradition, pride, or worldliness. Christ’s path is straight—but only the repentant will walk it.
Matthew 3:5–6
“Then Jerusalem, all Judea, and all the region around the Jordan went out to him and were baptized by him in the Jordan, confessing their sins.”
John the Baptist’s ministry wasn’t a marginal movement—it ignited a national revival of repentance. People from every major region of Judea, including the capital, were stirred to action by his message. His impact was so profound that even secular historian Josephus recorded more about John than Jesus. This shows that John’s bold preaching—calling out sin, warning of judgment, and pointing to the coming Messiah—was exactly what the people’s starving spiritual condition needed at the time.
The widespread appeal of John’s message—seen in the phrase “Jerusalem, all Judea, and all the region around the Jordan”—should be understood as hyperbolic but accurate, meaning many, not literally every single individual. Still, the movement was vast and deeply felt. As Matthew Henry notes, this wave of conviction had never occurred before in Jewish history: Jews, generally confident in their covenant standing with God, now humbled themselves as if they were Gentile converts—confessing that they, too, were far from God.
This made John’s baptism radically countercultural. Baptism in Jewish tradition existed, but only as ritual purification or as part of the conversion of Gentiles to Judaism. For Jews to submit to this baptism was a declaration of spiritual bankruptcy—an admission that they needed repentance just as much as outsiders. They were, in effect, placing themselves on the same spiritual level as the nations. This was no light thing. This was the work of the Holy Spirit convicting hearts, cutting through religious pride and preparing the way for Christ.
John’s baptism was not merely about external cleansing. It was about repentance and identification. He called for real action—“fruits worthy of repentance” (Matthew 3:8)—not mere ceremonial motions. And the act of being “baptized by him in the Jordan” symbolized a total immersion in this new mindset. These people weren’t sprinkled or symbolically dabbed with water. The Greek word baptizō implies full immersion—symbolizing a break with the old and a complete readiness for what God would do next.
Importantly, this confession of sins was public and individual. Unlike the collective atonement rituals of the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16), what John initiated was a personal, vocal, heartfelt “owning” of one’s condition before God. This is where real revival begins—not in external religion, but in broken, contrite hearts (Psalm 51:17).
Spurgeon insightfully said that without confession, baptism would have been no more than a bath. But because it was preceded by repentance and confession, it became a spiritually significant act, filled with the weight of expectation for the Messiah. The people knew something was coming—they were responding in faith to the call to prepare.
This moment is a clear fulfillment of Isaiah 40:3. John was doing what was prophesied: preparing the way of the LORD, building a highway of repentance in the hearts of the people. The King was coming, and the road was being cleared not with tools, but with tears.
In sum, John’s ministry was powerful because it was truthful. It bore fruit because it cut deep. The people confessed their sins, were immersed in the Jordan, and stood ready—perhaps trembling—for the One greater than John to appear.
Matthew 3:7–12 (NKJV)
"But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, “Brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Therefore bear fruits worthy of repentance, and do not think to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I say to you that God is able to raise up children to Abraham from these stones.
And even now the ax is laid to the root of the trees. Therefore every tree which does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.
I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, but He who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.
His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean out His threshing floor, and gather His wheat into the barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”"
John the Baptist’s confrontation with the Pharisees and Sadducees is a powerful scene of spiritual exposure. These religious elites—typically adversaries of one another—arrived together to observe or partake in John's baptism. Yet they came without hearts ready to repent. John’s rebuke is scathing: “Brood of vipers!” He equates them not with spiritual descendants of Abraham, but with the offspring of the serpent—Satan himself. This is a statement of their spiritual identity, not their physical lineage. It dismantles their pride and exposes their hypocrisy.
He asks, “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”—a rhetorical blow that cuts to their motive. Were they truly seeking God, or merely positioning themselves religiously to maintain influence? John wasn't impressed by their religious standing. Instead, he issued a command: “Therefore bear fruits worthy of repentance.” Real repentance is not verbal or ceremonial—it’s visible. It manifests in changed behavior, not religious pomp.
John then attacks a common and dangerous presumption: “Do not think to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’” In their minds, descent from Abraham was a spiritual insurance policy. But John demolishes that false assurance. God does not need them to preserve His promises. He can raise children for Abraham from these stones—a clear reminder that God’s grace is not confined to lineage but extended to the repentant. In other words, salvation is not inherited. It’s received by faith and repentance.
Then comes the dire warning: “Even now the ax is laid to the root of the trees.” God’s judgment is not theoretical or future—it's imminent. The ax is not resting idly beside the tree but is positioned at the root. Judgment is not delayed; it is poised. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is “cut down and thrown into the fire.” This is a terrifying truth: a fruitless life is a sign of an unrepentant heart, and judgment is certain for such a person.
John contrasts his own ministry with that of the One who is coming:
“I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, but He who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry.”
This is a profound declaration of Christ’s supremacy. A disciple would normally assist his master, but removing sandals was the task of the lowest slave. John considers himself unworthy even for that. The One coming is “mightier”—Jesus Christ, who will baptize not just with water, but with the Holy Spirit and fire.
This dual baptism reflects the two-fold work of the Messiah. The Holy Spirit comes to regenerate, empower, and sanctify believers—this would be fulfilled beginning at Pentecost. The fire symbolizes judgment—either the purifying fire of sanctification for the believer or the consuming fire of wrath for the unrepentant.
Finally, John describes the coming judgment with vivid imagery:
“His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean out His threshing floor…”
Jesus will separate the wheat (the repentant) from the chaff (the unrepentant). The wheat will be “gathered into the barn”—a picture of salvation and security. The chaff will be “burned with unquenchable fire.” There is no third category—every soul is either wheat or chaff.
This is not merely history. It’s prophecy and theology. The same message confronts us today: lineage, titles, or church affiliation cannot save. Only repentance and fruit borne by the Spirit confirm salvation. The Judge is coming. The winnowing has already begun. The fire is unquenchable. Let every man examine himself and flee to Christ—the One mighty to save.
Matthew 3:13–14 —
“Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him. And John tried to prevent Him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by You, and are You coming to me?’”
This scene marks a pivotal turning point in redemptive history. After approximately thirty years of obscurity, Jesus steps forward to begin His public ministry, not with a mighty miracle or kingly proclamation, but in humility, seeking baptism from a prophet in the wilderness. His coming from Galilee — a region often despised and overlooked — serves as a reminder that God’s plan rarely conforms to human expectations. The Messiah does not arise from Jerusalem’s religious elite but from Nazareth, a town of no reputation (John 1:46).
Christ’s initiative here is striking: “Jesus came.” He was not summoned by the religious system or driven by external pressure. Unlike the multitudes who came to John confessing sin, Jesus had nothing to repent of. His coming was voluntary, intentional, and deeply theological.
John, filled with the Spirit from the womb and fully aware of his prophetic role, immediately recognizes the spiritual disparity between himself and Jesus. He is overwhelmed by the incongruity: “I need to be baptized by You, and are You coming to me?” This is not false humility; it is spiritual clarity. John understands that his baptism is a baptism of repentance — a symbolic act to prepare sinners for the coming kingdom. But the King Himself is sinless. What need has He for repentance?
John’s protest reveals a deep understanding of Jesus’ identity, even if not yet fully developed. He rightly sees that the greater should not be baptized by the lesser. If anyone needed cleansing or empowerment, it was John. He longed for the greater baptism Jesus offered — the baptism with the Holy Spirit and fire (Matthew 3:11) — one that transforms the inner man, not merely cleanses the outer.
Yet Jesus insists. This moment, though perplexing on the surface, is rich with meaning. It foreshadows the humility of the Incarnation and anticipates the cross. Jesus identifies with sinners not just by walking among them, but by entering into their experience, submitting to a rite meant for them. Though He knew no sin, He begins His ministry by standing where sinners stand — not as one needing grace, but as the one who would bear their sin.
In this request for baptism, Jesus reveals His mission: He did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). His baptism is the first public act of that identification. It sets the tone for His entire ministry — humble, obedient, self-emptying. It is not that He needed baptism, but we needed Him to submit to it on our behalf, foreshadowing the substitutionary nature of His work.
Matthew 3:15 —
“But Jesus answered and said to him, ‘Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he allowed Him.”
Jesus’ response to John’s hesitation is both profound and revealing. His words, “Permit it to be so now,” speak not only to the moment but to the divine order of redemptive history. This is a temporary arrangement — “now” — but one that carries eternal implications. Though John rightly discerns that Jesus has no sin, Christ nevertheless insists on undergoing the baptism. Why? “For thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”
This phrase, “to fulfill all righteousness,” has stirred much theological reflection. It is not referring to Christ’s need for righteousness in the moral sense — for He is already perfectly righteous — but to the fulfillment of God's righteous plan. Jesus came not only to teach and to die but to perfectly identify with mankind in every respect, yet without sin (Hebrews 4:15). His baptism is part of that identification, a public submission to the will of the Father and a declaration that He will fulfill all that God requires.
In being baptized, Jesus is inaugurating His public ministry with an act of obedience, signaling that He has come to walk the path that leads to the cross. This baptism is not just a ceremonial beginning — it is the affirmation of His intent to walk in full submission to the Father’s will, to be the representative of mankind, the true Israelite, and ultimately the sin-bearer.
John’s eventual consent — “Then he allowed Him” — emphasizes his submission to Jesus’ greater wisdom. Though it goes against his instincts, John obeys the word of the Lord. This exchange highlights a key theological principle: God's righteousness is often fulfilled in ways that seem upside-down to man.
Jesus’ baptism is also a preview of the cross. He is immersed in the waters not as a sinner repenting, but as the sinless one standing in the place of sinners. Just as He will later be crucified between thieves, here He submits to a rite meant for the unrighteous, demonstrating His role as the substitute.
As G. Campbell Morgan said, “In baptism He confessed, as His own, sins which He had not committed, and repented of them before God.” This is the heart of substitution — the innocent stepping into the place of the guilty.
Moreover, Jesus’ baptism marks a break with His private life and a full commitment to His Messianic mission. He is, in effect, declaring that He now belongs not to His earthly family or village, but to the mission and work of the Father (see Luke 2:49). It is a spiritual pivot from the hidden years of preparation to the public years of proclamation, confrontation, and ultimately, redemption.
In summary, Jesus’ baptism is not merely symbolic or exemplary — it is theological. It is the King’s humble entrance, the Lamb’s identification with those He came to save, and the obedient Son’s first step toward Calvary.
Matthew 3:16–17 —
“When He had been baptized, Jesus came up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened to Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting upon Him. And suddenly a voice came from heaven, saying, ‘This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’”
This climactic moment in the baptism narrative displays the public unveiling of Jesus as the Son of God. As He emerges from the waters, three things occur: the heavens open, the Spirit descends, and the Father speaks. This Trinitarian manifestation reveals that what Jesus is stepping into is no ordinary ministry—it is the long-prophesied Messianic mission, sanctioned and initiated by the Triune God Himself.
The heavens being opened is a sign of divine revelation and access. In Old Testament thought, the heavens being closed indicated a separation between God and man (cf. Isaiah 64:1). Now, as Jesus stands ready to fulfill righteousness and begin His redemptive work, the heavens open—not to condemn, but to affirm and endorse. This is a moment of divine initiation and approval.
The Holy Spirit descending like a dove further signals Jesus’ anointing. He is the promised One, the Anointed of God (Isaiah 61:1; Luke 4:18). The Spirit descends not merely as a symbol of power, but also as a symbol of purity, peace, and divine gentleness. This sets the tone for Jesus’ ministry: one that will be bold and Spirit-empowered, yet marked by compassion and mercy. The dove, a clean animal used in sacrificial offerings by the poor (Leviticus 5:7), also hints at Jesus’ coming role as a sacrifice for the lowly and brokenhearted. Moreover, this descending Spirit echoes Genesis 1:2 where the Spirit hovered over the waters of creation—here, He hovers over the water of Jesus' baptism, signifying the dawn of new creation in Christ.
The voice from heaven—the Father’s voice—declares, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” This affirmation ties directly to Psalm 2:7 (“You are My Son, today I have begotten You”) and Isaiah 42:1 (“Behold! My Servant whom I uphold, My Elect One in whom My soul delights”). It identifies Jesus as both the royal Son and the suffering Servant, blending two key Messianic roles that Jewish readers would understand. He is both King and Redeemer.
This moment also publicly refutes any notion that Jesus became the Son of God at this point. Rather, it affirms that Jesus, already the Son from eternity, is now commissioned in full view. It is not an ontological change but a functional inauguration of His ministry.
Furthermore, this scene is one of the clearest portraits of the Trinity in Scripture. The Father speaks from heaven, the Son emerges from the water, and the Spirit descends like a dove. Each Person is distinct, yet united in purpose and glory. The unity of the Godhead is not abstract theology here—it is manifest in real space and time, inaugurating redemption.
Lastly, this divine affirmation sets the tone for everything that follows. Jesus' ministry, temptations, miracles, and suffering will all rest on this truth: He is the beloved Son, in whom the Father is well pleased. That approval is not contingent on performance—it is declared before any public miracle or teaching, which underscores the intrinsic, eternal relationship between Father and Son.
In sum, Matthew 3:16–17 is not just the conclusion of the baptism—it is the unveiling of the King, the affirmation of the Son, and the anointing of the Spirit. From this point forward, Jesus is publicly declared to be Messiah, Son of God, and Spirit-empowered Savior, moving with divine authority to fulfill the mission of redemption.
1. The fulfillment of prophecy validates Christ’s forerunner (Matthew 3:1–3)
Matthew 3:1–3 (NKJV)
“In those days John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, and saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!’ For this is he who was spoken of by the prophet Isaiah, saying: ‘The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord; Make His paths straight.”’”
Lesson: The emergence of John the Baptist fulfills Isaiah 40:3, confirming the precision of biblical prophecy. God’s promises are fulfilled literally, not allegorically. This validates the reliability of Scripture and its prophetic accuracy.
John is not just a preacher; he is the prophesied forerunner of the Messiah. His message and location were foretold, showing that God's plan is exact in its detail.
2. The phrase “Kingdom of Heaven” appears first in this chapter
Matthew 3:2 (NKJV)
“…and saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!’”
Lesson: This is the first mention of the “Kingdom of Heaven” in the New Testament. It refers specifically to the earthly, Davidic kingdom promised to Israel, not the general reign of God.
John's message is clear: the promised kingdom (see Daniel 2:44; 2 Samuel 7:12–16) is near because the King (Messiah) is about to be revealed. This is consistent with dispensational theology that sees the Kingdom as literal and future, to be fulfilled at Christ’s Second Coming.
The requirement for entrance is not ancestry but repentance—a radical message to the self-righteous religious leaders of the time.
3. The wilderness setting reflects a return to purity and divine preparation
Matthew 3:1 (NKJV)
“In those days John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea…”
Lesson: John preaches in the wilderness, not in the Temple or city centers. This location symbolizes spiritual barrenness and calls the people away from the corruption of the religious establishment.
Biblically, the wilderness is also a place of divine preparation (see Exodus, Elijah, Jesus' temptation in Matthew 4). It emphasizes separation from man-made religion and a return to God's voice.
4. John’s clothing and diet underscore his prophetic role
Matthew 3:4 (NKJV)
“Now John himself was clothed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist; and his food was locusts and wild honey.”
Lesson: John’s appearance mirrored Elijah (see 2 Kings 1:8), affirming Malachi 4:5–6:
“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.”His lifestyle was a rebuke to materialism and religious showmanship. He was not dependent on the temple system or human approval. His life was fully consecrated to God.
5. John's baptism as a transitional and preparatory ordinance
Lesson: John's baptism was unto repentance (Matthew 3:11), and it prepared Israel for the Messiah but did not grant new birth or Spirit baptism.
It marked a transitional period between the Old and New Covenants. John's ministry stands at the hinge of dispensations: ending the Age of Law and heralding the Kingdom offer.
He is not the founder of Christian baptism (which is tied to identification with Christ’s death and resurrection—Romans 6:3–4), but his baptism sets the stage for it.
6. Jesus' baptism models submission, not repentance
Matthew 3:15 (NKJV)
“But Jesus answered and said to him, ‘Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he allowed Him.”
Lesson: Jesus’ baptism was not for repentance (He had no sin), but to fulfill righteousness—an act of identification with mankind and an endorsement of John’s ministry.
Christ's baptism marks the public start of His ministry and His anointing by the Holy Spirit for service (Acts 10:38). It’s the first public revelation of the Trinity, showing the Father’s voice, Son’s obedience, and Spirit’s descent.
7. The Trinity is visibly revealed at Jesus’ baptism
Matthew 3:16–17 (NKJV)
“When He had been baptized, Jesus came up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened to Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting upon Him.
And suddenly a voice came from heaven, saying, ‘This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’”
Lesson: This is one of the clearest moments where all three persons of the Trinity are simultaneously manifested:
Father (speaks from heaven)
Son (is baptized)
Spirit (descends like a dove)
This event provides undeniable support for the doctrine of the Trinity, a fundamental tenet of biblical Christianity. It also affirms the Father’s approval of the Son even before Jesus begins His miracles or teaching ministry.
8. Judgment is a central part of the Messiah’s ministry
Matthew 3:12 (NKJV)
“His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean out His threshing floor, and gather His wheat into the barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
Lesson: The Messiah’s first coming involved grace and truth, but John also makes clear that His mission includes judgment.
The “unquenchable fire” is not a metaphor but a direct reference to eternal judgment (see Revelation 20:11–15). Christ divides between the saved and the lost.
John's language prepares Israel not only for a Savior, but also for a Judge. The wheat and chaff imagery teaches the separation of true believers and the false, foreshadowing Jesus' later parables (e.g., Matthew 13).