Sermon
5/14/17 – John 14-1-14
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord, Jesus
Christ. Amen
As many of you may know, at
the beginning of this year, the ELCA changed the roster of which I am a part so
that my official title is Deacon now rather than Associate in Ministry.
Deacons have a long history
with the church, and so it is somewhat appropriate that on this particular
Sunday I get to preach when our first reading is about a first Deacon of the
church: Stephen.
And, at the risk of sounding
like Pastor Mark with one of his jokes, I read a reminder this week about
Stephen from one of our ELCA Bishops, Michael Rinehart, that put a bit of
perspective on us Deacons.
When Peter – the first
pastor – preached, 3,000 people were baptized.
And when Stephen, the first
deacon preached, he got stoned to death.
Well, over four years here
and thankfully I’m still standing.
And yet any preacher –
whether they are a pastor or a deacon – knows that when they preach they stand
before a congregation completely vulnerable.
You may not all carry stones
into the sanctuary (or hopefully even rotten tomatoes), but as my preaching
professor reminded our class in Seminary, as preachers, we know each time we
preach that we must do so as if, as she said, our bags are packed.
We are called as preachers
to know that something we say might upset you.
Might be something you don’t
want to hear.
Might be an idea that is threatening
or hopefully life changing.
Being a proclaimer of Christ
means that not everything I say is going to be met with open ears.
BUT, that isn’t limited to
us preachers. Being a follower of Christ means that not everything you say is
going to be met with open ears.
And yet you still have the
power to change lives.
And this truth goes back
even before Stephen was stoned to death for what he preached.
This truth goes back to
every prophet in the Hebrew Scriptures and to Jesus himself. How often did Jesus speak words that his
disciples either shut their ears to, or simply did not understand?
Jesus’ words today in the
Gospel begin with a word of comfort, and yet they are still words that are
difficult – and even incomprehensible – for his disciples.
This Sunday and next bring
us text from what’s called Jesus’ farewell discourse to the disciples.
A little bit of pre-crucifixion
brought to us post-resurrection.
Now right before our passage
today, we get the reason as to why Jesus’ disciples are having such a hard time
accepting what he has to say to them.
He is saying goodbye. Right
before this passage, he has said to them that he’s leaving and that where he is
going, they cannot follow.
Right before this he’s said that
Peter is going to deny him and Judas betray him.
THIS is the context in which
he now says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
Your world is going to fall
apart, Jesus tells them. But don’t worry about it.
But then, right after it
feels as if Jesus has pulled the rug out from under them, his next act is to
provide his disciples words of comfort and encouragement.
Words to prepare them for
what comes next…
These words from Jesus are
encouragement and preparation for the journey they will next undertake.
Jesus, it seems, took the
advice of two of my seminary professors. The one who said “preach with your
bags packed,” but also the one who said to us: “preach to comfort.”
This reading, which is so
very familiar if you’ve been to a funeral, needs to be looked at in its
original context: words for a specific group of people, the disciples, to get
them prepared for what would happen after the passion, crucifixion, resurrection,
and ascension of Jesus the Christ.
And in that first context,
it didn’t seem to go so well immediately.
For four of the disciples
especially, things are in turmoil.
Peter will still deny after
this. Judas will betray still.
Thomas will still willfully
not understand – and later, as we heard a few weeks ago, doubt.
And Philip will make an
unreasonable demand.
Let’s talk a little bit
about Thomas and Philip and their requests.
First Philip: you might
wonder what’s so unreasonable about wanting to see the Father?
Well, until this point, a
good Jewish boy wouldn’t ask that question. To even ask would be considered
arrogant. Even in the Hebrew scriptures, none of the greats “saw” God. Moses
was lucky to get to see God’s backside and that’s about it.
God wasn’t seen.
And so here was God right
before them and they still weren’t seeing it.
Maybe we can empathize with
them not quite getting it. You aren’t
supposed to see God. That’s what they knew.
But Phillip asked anyway.
“Show us the father and we will be satisfied.”
Well, Jesus will do just
that. Not only in his reply here that he is IN the father and the father is IN
him, but he will keep showing him. He’ll show Philip and all of them exactly
who God is and how God will be seen: vulnerable, nailed to a cross. Dying.
Rising.
But Philip’s demand is
prompted by Jesus’ response first to Thomas’ question: We don’t even know where
you are going! How can we possibly know the way?
Maybe you know Jesus’
response to that pretty well.
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father
except through me.”
But knowing it outside of
Thomas’ question has led to some misappropriation of these words.
Jesus is big on “I AM” statements
in the Gospel of John. “I am the bread of
life.” “I am the light of the world.” “I am the good shepherd.”
All of these “I AM”
statements serve to show us that Jesus is the very source of abundant life.
That Jesus signals the presence of God: the presence of love.
And yet over the past 2000
years of Christian history, this one particular “I AM” statement has been used
mostly as one that excludes and isolates as if it is a secret code that only
the chosen few can get.
Instead, what if we asked why
it is that Jesus tells Thomas that he is the way?
Thomas is looking for a
literal way. A map. He wants “twelve steps” or “ten commandments.” He wants “seven
habits” or “95 Theses.” Something tangible. Something he can see or touch or
walk on. We shouldn’t be surprised about this since it was only weeks ago we
were reminded Thomas wanted to touch Jesus’ side after the resurrection.
But Jesus isn’t giving him a
map.
Jesus gives Thomas a way and
a life that is already there right in front of him, staring him in the face.
He’s giving Philip a father
who is right there wanting to be in relationship with him.
When Jesus says “I AM” Jesus
is always dealing from the deck of love and hope and relationship.
“No one gets to the father
except through me” isn’t a way of keeping anyone out. To say so is to do
violence to the context and to the spirit of Jesus’ life and words.
Thomas, Philip, Jesus says,
you already know the father. You already know the way. You know me. I’m already
here. And you know that I love you. You know that love IS the way.
Earlier, in John, Jesus had
already given this clue. John 3:17: “God
did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the
world might be saved through him.” The whole world.
And John 10:16: “There will be one flock. One shepherd.”
The way is already before
you.
And in effect, Jesus is
telling them – and us – that we are the way as well.
“The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and in
fact, will do greater works that these.”
Only I think the Message
version of this text gets it better here. Not simply believe IN me. This isn’t
an intellectual exercise for Jesus. Not a dogmatic assent.
Instead, TRUST me. Trust
that you can do even greater things.
Huh. How can we trust that
we can do something greater than Jesus? What works is he talking about?
Miracles? Signs?
Just what IS it that Jesus
prepared his followers for?
And are we supposed to think
we can do miracles as well?
No, not mere miracles. What
we have the opportunity to do go goes beyond mere miracles. Probably you
haven’t healed a blindman or leper.
Maybe you haven’t raised someone
from the dead.
But maybe you have sat by
the bedside of someone who is dying.
Held the hand of a mother
who just lost her child.
Listened to the story of a
friend in need.
Loved someone who feels
unlovable.
Forgiven something
unforgivable.
Fed someone who is hungry.
Given hope to someone who
feels hopeless.
Been the very presence of
Christ to a world that desperately needs it.
The point is that great works
aren’t the point. The point of our great works is that they communicate to the
broken world who Jesus is. Who God is. What the way is.
That they point the world to
a Way that is love.
That first martyr, that
follower of Jesus, that deacon, Stephen, showed the way, the truth and the life
even in his death. “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
When we love, when we trust,
when we forgive, we give life and we show the way that Jesus has already
prepared for all of us.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment