Sermons: #John 1

Showing posts with label #John 1. Show all posts

Sunday, January 15, 2023

Rabbi, where are you staying?

January 15, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

When we invite people over to our house, we usually spend the morning cleaning. We’ll gather up dirty dishes, scrub the bathrooms, empty the trash cans, make the beds, and put out fresh towels. When people show up unexpectedly, however, things may be a bit messier. Without warning, they might catch a glimpse of a more realistic, less polished, version of us.

Two disciples followed Jesus. “When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi, where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and see.’”[2] They did, leaving us to wonder, what did they see?

Was this Jesus at home? It seems he wasn’t expecting them. Things would not have been polished up for special guests. Did they watch him interact with his siblings, answer to his mother? Did they share the evening meal as Jesus prayed over the food? Did he sing a psalm, laugh at a joke, or tell stories from childhood? Maybe they saw him sharing leftovers with a poor neighbor. Perhaps, on the way home, he talked with an unclean person, asked about a widowed neighbor, or even performed an act of healing. Did they see an ordinary day in the life of Jesus?

I believe what they saw and heard was Jesus moving through an ordinary world on an ordinary day, and it was extraordinary. So much so that Andrew was compelled to bring his brother Simon to see Jesus, saying “We have found the Messiah.”[3]

We are all looking for something extraordinary in life. Some meaning, some purpose, something that will drive us, energize us, and make us happy. In our ordinary lives we have hopes and dreams. We want to achieve our goals, feel good as much as possible, and maximize our quality of life. We want to be happy. And we can find some happiness, most of the time, if we work hard, are frugal with our money and time, and take care of the people and things that matter to us.

We often get stuck, however, on some external object that doesn’t really meet our needs. Maybe we think that the next job, a promotion, or a new romantic partner will be the thing that brings us happiness. Maybe it’s an actual object, like a new car, or a bigger TV. Now, getting a great job or meeting the right person can make you happy. But we often find that the job turns out to be more stressful than we thought, or the amazing person turns out to have a shadow side. The shiny new object is great, until we become accustomed to it, and then it blends into the background like everything else.

We often focus too much on external achievements and material things, neglecting our internal needs, our spiritual well-being. We focus on competing and winning, rather than supporting and collaborating with each other. We plug along from one chore to the next without taking time for wonder, dreams, and prayer. We each have a hunger for something more, but what we find often leaves us still empty.

Andrew, the disciple of John the Baptizer, was looking for something more. He was a fisherman. He, and his brother, Simon, had learned the trade from their father, and were probably decent fishermen. But they want3ed more. There’s no corporate ladder to climb when you’re a fisherman. If you wanted a fancier boat, you had to make it yourself. And even finding the right partner is tough when everyone in the village already knows everyone else’s shadow side. Simon and Andrew longed for more meaning and purpose, something greater to be a part of.

They had heard of this wild person baptizing people and went to hear what he had to say. They learned about repentance, about preparing for what was to come. John wasn’t the answer to their search, however, as he himself pointed out. “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.”[4] There were rumors of someone who would come to bring glory back to Israel, the Messiah. Now that was something worth looking for. Maybe that was what John had been talking about.

Then, Jesus walked by. “Look,” John exclaimed, “here is the Lamb of God!” John didn’t hold them back, and they followed Jesus. “Rabbi, where are you staying?” Teacher, we want to see who you are. “Come and see,” he said.[5]

They did see, and they found something more than they were looking for. They found a teacher. But this teacher wouldn’t teach them how to build a fancier boat or start a business in carpentry. This teacher would teach them how to find the love of God planted deep inside themselves and bring it to life in others. They found a guide. But this guide wouldn’t teach them which roads to Jerusalem were the safest or quickest. This guide would show them how to walk the hard road, the road that would eventually lead to the cross, but to walk with hope in their hearts, compassion in their touch, and love in every encounter.

They found the Messiah. But this messiah would not lead them in glorious battle to retake Israel from the Romans and put a king like David back on the throne. This messiah would lead them in glorious battle against disease, distress, hopelessness, emptiness, and heartlessness. This messiah would lead them, not to find a destination, but to see the Kingdom of God wherever they went, and to proclaim the presence of God in the midst of the journey.

They found the Lamb of God. This ruler would not become a king or conqueror, but would choose instead to sacrifice himself in order to save others. This leader would show them how to be servants, to put the needs of others ahead of their own. This master would not seek power and control, but rather to take away the sin of the world.

They found the Son of God. In this person, Jesus, they found the one who understood them better than they understood themselves. They found the one who would challenge them, test them, make them grow and change in ways they could hardly imagine. Simon would become a different person, taking a new name, Cephas, or Peter. They found a teacher who would make them into teachers, a healer who would make them into healers, a brother who would welcome them into the household of God.

All of that is yet to come, of course. This was only the beginning. What were they looking for? What did they see? A teacher, a master, and so much more. What are you looking for? A sense of purpose, some meaning in life, a way to be set free? Come and see. Watch how Jesus moves through the world. Maybe you’ll find that what you’re looking for is something you already have, the seed of love, planted by God, waiting for you to give it away. Amen.

[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

[2] John 1:38-39.

[3] John 1:41.

[4] John 1:30.

[5] John 1:36-39.

Sunday, January 17, 2021

Come and See

January 17, 2021

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

John 1:43-51

What brought you to church today? What compelled you to log on to the live-stream? It is a four-day weekend for the schools, after all, and a three-day weekend for many businesses. Some of us, of course, have to be here. But even if we didn’t, I suspect we would be here anyway. There is, certainly, the joy that comes from gathering as a community, even at a distance. We all enjoy the music of the organ and the hymns. And it is good to set aside time to hear the scriptures read, to pray, and sing. But could it be that we are attending worship today because we hope to catch a glimpse of God at work? Could it be that we want to see someone who knows us, who understands what we’re struggling with, sees into our hearts, who shares our hopes and our concern for the world? Could it be that we want to see, somewhere among us, Jesus son of Joseph?

What brought you to church for the first time? For most of us it was our parents. Somehow in a congregation somewhere, maybe even here, they encountered something holy, something sacred and worthy, and they wanted us to have that experience too. But if it was a choice, whether to come to this church or another, was it because of someone who invited you? Did they say, “Come and see”?

We don’t like to use guilt to get people to come to church. Yes, we try to track attendance, but not so that we can call up the people who weren’t here and tsk, tsk at them. We don’t use the cram-it-down-your-throat kind of approach. If you’re here on a Sunday morning, we’re glad to see you. And if we missed seeing you this Sunday, it’s because we hope you’re alright and want you to know we care. You came here today, I hope, because you were invited and you felt welcome, and that feeling never went away. You’re here because the gospel of God’s love for us and all the world is so good that someone invited you to check it out. It is news that is too good not to share with those we care about.

Philip encountered something in meeting Jesus that was more than he expected. Surely there must be something missing between Jesus-found-Philip and Philip-found-Nathanael. Maybe it was that quick, but I suspect that it was more than the words “Follow me” that gave Philip the idea that Jesus was “him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote.” We don’t know, however. What we do know is that Philip found a person so intriguing, who had such good news to share, that he had to share it. So, he found his good friend, Nathanael.

That Philip picked Nathanael to introduce to the Messiah is an interesting choice. He must have known Nathanael well, and if he did, he must also have expected Nathanael to be skeptical. Nathanael scoffed at the unimpressive résumé of Jesus son of Joseph of Nazareth. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Nazareth was a small village, maybe 300 residents. One scholar relates that “The Hebrew Scriptures never mention Nazareth, much less associate it with messianic expectations.”[1] Nazareth is nowhere special. In Nathanael’s view, Jesus’ hometown is a rather insignificant village in Galilee. Wouldn’t the Messiah have more prominent parents and come from a more significant town? And yet, when he does come and see, Jesus looks into his heart and knows him, and Nathanael is never the same.

God often chooses people who don’t seem like they’ll amount to much, those with an unimpressive résumé. Samuel was a young man, only twelve years of age, serving as a Temple assistant to Eli, the High Priest at Shiloh, when God first called him. Samuel became the last of the Hebrew Judges and a prophet in Israel. It was Samuel who anointed the first two kings of Israel, Saul and David. David, the famous king, was the youngest son and a shepherd. An unwed, pregnant girl named Mary became the mother of God-With-Us. The son of a carpenter from an insignificant town grew to become the most significant figure in history. Something good did indeed come from Nazareth, and he overcame the world.

There was a young man, inexperienced in public leadership, his theological diploma still wet with ink, who was called upon to lead a movement for freedom. He lived in a city from which “nothing good” had come. His name was Martin Luther King, Jr. In December of 1955, King was elected head of a newly formed protest group, the Montgomery Improvement Association. This was four days after Rosa Parks was arrested for violating segregation laws.

On that day, over sixty-five years ago, when the bus boycott began, no one could have predicted we would erect monuments and establish a holiday to commemorate the life of Dr. King. But God has been known to call upon people much less prepared, and much less gifted than Dr. King, to rise to the occasion and take on what seems insurmountable.

And it did seem insurmountable. For far too long the African-American people of Montgomery, Alabama, faced shocking and humiliating treatment for simply trying to ride the bus to work. Early the next morning, the day after Parks’ arrest, Edgar D. Nixon called King and the Rev. Ralph Abernathy, and together they called for a meeting of ministers and civic leaders to discuss a proposed boycott.

The decision to boycott the buses was exciting, and the next morning an army of women and young people took seven thousand leaflets and distributed them by hand. Yet, as King describes in his autobiography, an article in the Sunday morning newspaper caused him to have doubts about their approach, and he began to think seriously about the boycott method. He asked himself “Isn’t it a negative approach to the solution of a problem? Was it true that we would be following the course of some of the White Citizens Councils (the white-supremacist organizations opposed to racial integration)? Even if lasting practical results came from such a boycott, would immoral means justify moral ends?”[2]

Ultimately, King came to a different understanding of what the boycott was really about. “As I thought further,” King wrote, “I came to see that what we were really doing was withdrawing our cooperation from an evil system, rather than merely withdrawing our support from the bus company… From this moment on I conceived of our movement as an act of massive noncooperation. From then on I rarely used the word ‘boycott.’”[3]

On Monday morning, after a long and worrying weekend, wearied but no longer doubtful of the morality of the protest, King waited with his wife, Coretta, to see what would happen. King heard Coretta cry, “Martin, Martin, come quickly!” Outside their window they saw a slowly moving empty bus. As he drove through the morning rush of traffic, it became apparent to King that “A miracle had taken place. The once dormant and quiescent Negro community was now fully awake.”[4]

A year later King spoke at an address to the First Institute for Nonviolence and Social Change. These were his words:

Little did we know on that night that we were starting a movement that would rise to international proportions; a movement whose lofty echoes would ring in the ears of people of every nation; a movement that would stagger and astound the imagination of the oppressor, while leaving a glittering star of hope etched in the midnight skies of the oppressed. Little did we know that night that we were starting a movement that would gain the admiration of [people] of goodwill all over the world. But God still has a mysterious way to perform wonders. It seems that God decided to use Montgomery as the proving ground for the struggle and triumph of freedom and justice in America. It is one of the ironies of our day that Montgomery, the Cradle of the Confederacy, is being transformed into Montgomery, the cradle of freedom and justice.[5]

The call of God often comes to those the world believes to be insignificant. The invitation to come and see brings us face to face with much more than we expect. It brings us into an encounter with God, with Jesus, and with a new understanding of who we are. In Jesus of Nazareth, Nathanael found the one who could look into his heart, and he called him the Son of God. Through Martin Luther King, Jr. and the citizens of Montgomery, God performed wonders and revealed to an oppressed people a new expression of human dignity. They showed us all that day that the sons and daughters of God are not the few, not the many, but all of us. They showed us that each person is important to God.

When we hear God calling “come and see,” when we encounter Jesus in the room with us, it changes how we understand our inherent worth, the value of our human life and all human life. When Nathanael encountered Jesus, he encountered the presence of God fully expressed in human form. And when we learn to see and value the image of God that resides within ourselves, and within all other people, then we can no longer be complicit in the violence of the world. We can no longer be complicit in the oppression of others. We can no longer cooperate with an evil system.

The struggle for justice and peace continues. You have seen what is happening and that people still march in the streets. You have seen too much that makes you suspicious, that makes you doubt yourself and your ability to make a difference. You have seen the power of violence to destroy human life. But that is not all there is to see.

There is non-violent resistance to see. There is courage in the struggle for justice and peace to see. There is bravery in the face of terror to see. There is equality and respect to see. There is beauty, peace, and love to see. There is music and prayer, laughter and tears to see.

I invite you to tell others, come and see. We’re just a nowhere church filled with nobodies, but come and see. Come and see the Body of Christ that gathers on Jefferson Street in Union. Come and see what a community of faith can be. Come and see the family that we can be together. Come and see how we walk through grief together. Come and see how we celebrate together. Come and see the power of faith, hope, and love at work. Come and see the people who remind me of Jesus. Come and see the loving spirit of the living Christ. You’re invited. You’re welcome here. Come and see. Amen.

[1] Leslie J. Hoppe, Exegetical Perspective on John 1:43-52 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B, Vol. 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), p. 261.

[2] The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr., edited by Clayborne Carson (New York: Warner Books, 1998).

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] "Facing the Challenge of a New Age" by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., address delivered December 3, 1956 at the First Annual Institute on Nonviolence and Social Change, Montgomery, Ala. Available from: https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

Witnesses to the Light

December 13, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; John 1:6-8,19-28

I have this cup. We all have one kind of like it. It is the cup that holds joy inside us. One of my favorite musicians, David Wilcox, wrote a song about the cup that holds love,[1] but I want to bend that metaphor just a little. The cup gets filled up with joy, you see, whenever we experience joy. Sometimes just a drop or two gets added to my cup, like when my son gives me a hug. Sometimes it feels like an open tap is pouring joy into my cup, like when I hear a beautiful song.

The thing is, there’s a break in the cup. There are little holes in my cup of joy that let the joy leak out. This hole was made when I heard Errol Hamilton had passed away. This one is from a young person who is having a hard time feeling like she belongs. I have lots of little ones lately from things I hear on the news.

There are some big holes in my cup, too. In my role as a minister, I sometimes hear the stories of tragedy and heartbreak in people’s lives, and I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t affect me. I have heartbreak stories of my own, like the death of my sister-in-law from cancer.

Some of these holes will heal. Some of these holes can be patched up with time and effort. Prayer and repentance can close some of the holes. But new ones will take their place. There will always be holes in my cup. And I’m sorry to say, there will always be holes in yours as well.

So, I try to recognize and be grateful for each trickle of joy. I try to be thankful for every person who has shown me some light, some joy in the world. And I try to show some light, some joy to those around me as well. We are, all of us, witnesses to the light.

John the Baptizer was a witness to the light. He made it clear to the priests and Levites from Jerusalem that he was not the light. He was not the Messiah. But John was here to cry out in the wilderness, to prepare a way, and to show us where we could find the light.

I am thankful for the fountains of joy that have filled my cup lately. I am thankful for seeing my family and celebrating the birthdays of my parents, even if it was only over Zoom. I am thankful that Bonnie is expected to make a full recovery from COVID. It gives me joy to see that my wife’s cousin, Caleb, has graduated from college. It gives me joy to talk on the phone with an old friend.

Grady Nutt, from the old TV show Hee Haw, had a saying, “Laughter is the hand of God on the shoulder of a troubled world.” Laughter is a gift of God, a gift that we need today, in this Advent season, when the news is filled with division and sickness, when all is not calm and all is not bright.

Joy and laughter are a gift we need today. But laughter does more than fill up our cup of joy. Laughter bring us to life. There is a Proverb in the bible about this gift of laughter and our need for it: “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones” (Proverbs 17. 22).

We all need the joy that brings us to life, like a desert blooms after the rainfall, because without joy, we’re just empty cups. And when we have been drained of all joy, that can be dangerous. We might try to fill the empty space with something that feels like joy, but isn’t. We might try to fill the void with overuse of alcohol or drugs or food. We might overindulge in other unhealthy behaviors which make holes in the cup as fast as they fill it.

We need genuine joy, the joy that comes as a gift from God, which flows freely from the beauty of nature, the love of family and friends, and the sharing of our stories of joy with one another.

The lectionary scriptures for this third Sunday of Advent speak of the power of that kind of joy:

The prophet Isaiah said:
“I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my whole being shall exult in my God” (Isaiah 61:10).

Psalm 126 says:
“Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy” (Psalm 126:2).

And the Apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians:
“Rejoice always” (1 Thessalonians 5:16).

The message of the prophet Isaiah is so relevant for us because it acknowledges the pain and loss and the devastation the people of Israel had endured; and at the same time, it points to something beyond the present condition. Isaiah shares God’s promise that there is light and love and joy yet to be found.

Creation will be renewed.
The ruined cities will be rebuilt.
The exiles will come home.
The oppressed will hear the good news.
Those who mourn will be comforted.

When we witness to the light of Christ that shines into our lives, we build up the ancient ruins and repair the ruined cities. When we witness to the joy that we see in the world, when we share joy with one another, we help fill up that cup that holds joy inside us. And the more we practice witnessing to the light, the more it becomes a part of who we are and how we live our lives.

Another song by David Wilcox illustrates this way of living:

I went to see an old friend, who was soon to pass away.
He said “This life has been so good to me, now I’ve still got one more day.”
He said that as he watched the morning sun, and then he smiled my way;
Because he said that every morning, he’d lived his life that way.[2]

There is the kind of experience that can fill us up with joy long after it has passed. Maybe you have some moments like that in your memory. Here is one of my joyful memories.

The summer after I graduated high school I went on a trip to Oregon with some other young people from Colorado. One day we went on a tour of the waterfalls that flow into the Columbia River. We made a stop at one place where the waterfall was back from the road through a narrow ravine. The only way to get there was to walk up the creek. People were taking off their shoes, but the rocks were slippery and hard to walk on. I remember looking at my new shoes and thinking, “I will never be here again.” I walked up the creek in my shoes to swim under that beautiful waterfall. It remains a golden moment of joy in my memory.

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, in that region there were shepherds. They had a golden moment of joy in their memory:

“Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord’” (Luke 2:10).

Have you seen the light of joy, peace, hope, and love? Be witnesses to the Light. Amen.

Sunday, January 19, 2020

What Are You Looking For?

January 19, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

John 1:29-42

“Hi, can I help you find something?” The common greeting from a retail employee, expressing welcome, helpfulness, kindness. “May I help you?” Another common question, also expressing helpfulness and kindness. “What are you looking for?” Maybe it’s that hard-to-find pair of pants that actually fit, or the next best gadget that will solve all your problems. Take the question out of its context and it becomes just one more mundane response meant to make the sale.

“What are you looking for,” in this context, however, is an existential question. We are all looking for something in life. Some meaning, some purpose, something that drives us, energizes us, makes us happy. In our day-to-day lives we have hopes and dreams. We want to achieve our goals, feel good as much as possible, and maximize our quality of life. We want to be happy. And we can find some happiness, most of the time, if we work hard, are frugal with our money and time, and take care of the people and things that matter to us.

Is this the American way? We focus on external achievements and material things, neglecting our internal needs, our spiritual well-being. We focus on competing and winning, rather than supporting and collaborating with each other, taking time for ourselves to wonder, dream, and pray. We each have a hunger for something more, but what we find often leaves us still empty.

Andrew, the disciple of John the Baptizer, was looking for something more. He was a fisherman. He, and his brother, Simon, had learned the trade from their father, and were probably decent fishermen. But they wanted more. There’s no corporate ladder to climb when you’re a fisherman. If you wanted a fancier boat, you had to make it yourself. And even finding the right partner is tough when everyone in the village already knows everyone else’s shadow side. Simon and Andrew longed for more meaning and purpose, something greater to be a part of.

They had heard of this wild person baptizing people and went to hear what he had to say. They learned about repentance, about preparing for what was to come. John wasn’t the answer to their search, however, as he himself pointed out. “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” There were rumors of someone who would come to bring glory back to Israel, the Messiah. Now that was something worth looking for. Maybe that was what John had been talking about.

Then, Jesus walked by. “Look,” John exclaimed, “here is the Lamb of God!” John didn’t hold them back, and they followed Jesus. It was in that moment that the question, THE question, came. “What are you looking for?” They didn’t really answer, perhaps not knowing what to say. “Rabbi, where are you staying?” Teacher, we want to be taught by you. We want to follow you. We want you to show us what we’re looking for. “Come and see,” he said.

What did they see? A minister named Melissa Sevier imagines the scene this way:

Do they see him interacting with family? Hosting the Sabbath meal? Praying over the food? Singing a psalm? Laughing at a joke? Telling stories? Do they see him sharing leftovers with the poor? Talking to unclean people on the way home? Talking about what to do about a widowed neighbor or a depressed friend? Do they hear some of his teaching, or is just seeing how he lives on a random day life-changing enough?

Whatever they experience, it is interesting or moving enough for them to tell some others about it, and to give them the same invitation to come and see.[1]

They would see. And they did find something, perhaps more than they were looking for. They found a teacher. But this teacher wouldn’t teach them how to build a fancier boat or make it big in carpentry. This teacher would teach them how to find the love of God planted deep inside themselves and bring it to life in others. They found a guide. But this guide wouldn’t teach them which roads to Jerusalem were the safest or quickest. This guide would show them how to walk the hard road, the road that would eventually lead to the cross, but to walk with hope in their hearts, compassion in their touch, and love in every encounter.

All of that is yet to come, of course. This was only the beginning. What were they looking for? What did they find? A teacher, a master, and so much more. What are you looking for? A sense of purpose, some meaning in life, a way to be set free? Come and see. Maybe you’ll find it on this journey of faith. Maybe you’ll find that what you’re looking for is something you already have, the seed of love, planted by God, waiting for you to give it away. Amen.