Encountering the Messiah: Come and See

On the last Sunday of Advent, we first began our reading in the gospel of John with the Prologue - the first eighteen verses of John that set forth many of the themes and ideas that encompass the entire gospel. Over Christmas, we took a slight detour in Luke and Matthew, as we heard parts of the birth narrative of Christ, something that John doesn’t have.

Today, we return to John, where we will remain through the spring. and continue reading through the first chapter. Our reading today is in two parts. 

This is John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him, “Who are you?”

John confessed (he didn’t deny but confessed), “I’m not the Christ.”

They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?”

John said, “I’m not.”

“Are you the prophet?”

John answered, “No.”

They asked, “Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”

John replied,

“I am a voice crying out in the wilderness,

    Make the Lord’s path straight,

    just as the prophet Isaiah said.”

Those sent by the Pharisees asked, “Why do you baptize if you aren’t the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”

John answered, “I baptize with water. Someone greater stands among you, whom you don’t recognize. He comes after me, but I’m not worthy to untie his sandal straps.” This encounter took place across the Jordan in Bethany where John was baptizing.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one about whom I said, ‘He who comes after me is really greater than me because he existed before me.’ Even I didn’t recognize him, but I came baptizing with water so that he might be made known to Israel.” John testified, “I saw the Spirit coming down from heaven like a dove, and it rested on him. Even I didn’t recognize him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit coming down and resting is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and testified that this one is God’s Son.” --John 1:19-34 (CEB)

In this first portion of today’s story, John was asked many questions about who he was. The priests and Levites asked if he was one of the characters from the Old Testament who had come back, but he wasn’t.

We’re going to do something a little different today to begin. I’m going to read some clues and I’m going to invite you to help identify the person from the Old Testament that I’m referring to.

I moved from Haran.
I am the father of many descendants.
Once I almost sacrificed my son. I am… (Abraham)

I grew up in Egypt.
My mother saved my life by putting me in a basket.
I heard God’s call in a burning bush. I am… (Moses)

I am a prophet.
I stood up to the false prophets of Baal.
I heard God’s voice in the wilderness as a “still, small voice.” I am… (Elijah)

The priests and Levites in today’s reading thought that John the Baptist was Moses or Elijah who had come back. But, John told them that he wasn’t. Instead, he told them that he had a special role to prepare the way for Jesus, the Messiah. He had an important job to help others recognize Jesus.

If I hold up a bundle of Christmas lights, they look like a tangled mess, don’t they? But these Christmas lights remind me a little bit of the prophets. The prophets were messengers from God - it’s as though they were little lights, one after the other, illuminating a little bit more of God’s character. And of God’s promises. In fact, many of the prophets spoke of God’s promise to send a Messiah.

However, sometimes the messages from the prophets were confusing. Or even seemed unlikely. For example, was it true that the Messiah could really come from tiny Bethlehem?

It’s sort of like that string of Christmas lights I mentioned. Even though there are a lot of little lights, just like there were a lot of prophets, it seemed hard to get the whole picture. Sometimes the messages seemed tangled or unclear. God’s people were waiting for the Messiah, but it was difficult to see how all these little lights worked together. It was like there was a missing piece. 

There was a missing piece. This is where John came in. The priests and the Levites thought he was one of those earlier prophets, like Moses or Elijah. They even asked him if he was the Messiah. But, John very quickly responded that he was not. Yet, John had a specific job. (Straighten lights.) He was the one who was supposed to take what might be a tangled string of promises and “make straight” the path to Jesus. He was the one to point to Jesus. To connect the dots. And to reveal that Jesus was the one they had all been waiting for. (Turn on lights.) In some ways, he turned the lights on for them, so they would understand that Jesus was the Promised One, the light of the world.

Our reading continues.

The next day John was standing again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus walking along he said, “Look! The Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard what he said, and they followed Jesus.

When Jesus turned and saw them following, he asked, “What are you looking for?”

They said, “Rabbi (which is translated Teacher), where are you staying?”

He replied, “Come and see.” So they went and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon.

One of the two disciples who heard what John said and followed Jesus was Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter. He first found his own brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Christ ). He led him to Jesus.

Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon, son of John. You will be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

The next day Jesus wanted to go into Galilee, and he found Philip. Jesus said to him, “Follow me.” Philip was from Bethsaida, the hometown of Andrew and Peter.

Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law and the Prophets: Jesus, Joseph’s son, from Nazareth.”

Nathanael responded, “Can anything from Nazareth be good?”

Philip said, “Come and see.”

Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said about him, “Here is a genuine Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

Nathanael asked him, “How do you know me?”

Jesus answered, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.”

Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are God’s Son. You are the king of Israel.”

Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these! I assure you that you will see heaven open and God’s angels going up to heaven and down to earth on the Human One.” --John 1:35-51 (CEB)

Just as God chose John, Jesus chose his disciples. In our reading, Jesus chooses them very quickly. Do you remember how many names you heard in this reading? How many people Jesus chose in the first few days of his public ministry? Can you help me name them? (John, Andrew, Simon (Cephas/Peter), Philip, Nathanael)

Simon, who we also know as Peter, was nicknamed Cephas, which means “rock.” He likely didn’t yet understand why Jesus had given him this name. Yet, we know, these centuries later, that Simon Peter, even after later denying Christ before his crucifixion, would become a strong leader in the early church, like a rock. Peter didn’t know it then. But, Jesus did.

Then, there’s Nathanael. I particularly like Nathanael for his sarcasm. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” It’s like saying - if you’re a member of Grace & Glory, “Can anything good come out of Jefferson County?” Or conversely, if you’re a member at Third, “Can anything good come out of Oldham County?” Nathanael was a skeptic. A doubter. The one to question things. But, Jesus could see who he would also become. So, just as Jesus called Peter for who he was and who he would become, Jesus also called Nathanael for who he was and who he would become.

You and I, we are all very different people. We come from different backgrounds and experiences. Some of us very quickly follow when we’re invited in. Others of us hold back and, perhaps, follow, but with just a few more questions, maybe a few more doubts. Whether we feel like a rock like Peter or feel like we don’t even know that that means. Whether we have a lot of questions or not that many, Jesus has called each of us to be his disciples, too. And to come together, with all of our different experiences and backgrounds and ways of being, to grow deeper in our discipleship in Christ. All Jesus calls us to is to follow. In that following we learn answers to our questions and sometimes have more questions. But, most importantly, we learn to trust Jesus as the one leading, even when that means we are not quite sure where he will take us.

May we lean deeply into what it means to follow - to be Jesus’ disciples. May we open ourselves up to trust where Jesus might be leading us. And may we, like his early disciples, be willing and vulnerable enough to point the way to Jesus, to invite others to “Come and see” so that we might, together, “see greater things than these.” Amen.

Preached January 9, 2022, online with Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Epiphany 1

Readings: John 1:19-51; Psalm 66:1-5

Journey to the Cross: True Repentance

Let me begin today by saying, up front, that these are hard texts. They are often avoided by us because, in part, they raise the difficult question of why human tragedies occur and why people suffer. And, in this particular moment, as we are living through a very difficult and dark time, reflecting on why there is suffering may hit very close to home. We have just passed a horrendous milestone in this pandemic. Half a million people dead in our nation. Two and a half million fathers, mothers, sons, daughters lost across the world. Why? We might ask. Why did they have to die? What evil did they do to cause this? What evil did I do to cause this? Why did they die and not me? 

When we experience human tragedy like this past year and at other times, asking these questions is natural and human. And quite impossible to answer. This is why we tend to stay away from this part of Luke. Because it raises hard questions. And, because, it gives us no ready-made answers. 

But, today, as we journey, we will attempt to understand what Jesus is teaching his disciples. And us. We read in Luke, chapter 13. Today, I am reading from the Common English Bible.

Some who were present on that occasion told Jesus about the Galileans whom Pilate had killed while they were offering sacrifices. He replied, “Do you think the suffering of these Galileans proves that they were more sinful than all the other Galileans? No, I tell you, but unless you change your hearts and lives, you will die just as they did. What about those eighteen people who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them? Do you think that they were more guilty of wrongdoing than everyone else who lives in Jerusalem? No, I tell you, but unless you change your hearts and lives, you will die just as they did.” --Luke 13:1-5 (CEB)

As the story begins, Jesus continues on his way to Jerusalem. He’s been teaching the many disciples who are following him about what it means to be faithful people. In the midst of this, someone comes and tells Jesus of a gruesome crime that Pilate has perpetrated. 

We know the name. Pontius Pilate, although often referred to as the Roman governor of Judea, is more correctly the commander of the Roman auxiliary troops based in Judea to maintain control over the Jewish people. There is little known about Pilate other than that he has a reputation of greed, cruelty, and inflexibility.  He treated Jewish customs and religious beliefs with contempt and would deliberately provoke the Jewish people by placing Roman military flags in the temple and by confiscating the temple treasury, things that his predecessors had avoided. 

So, what’s the crime that Pilate has committed as it’s reported to Jesus? Pilate has killed worshipers in the temple who have traveled all the way from Galilee in the north to Jerusalem in the south, to offer their sacrifices before God. To make matters worse, the blood of these faithful has run together with the blood of the sacrifices they have offered. So, it was not only murder, but also a sacrilege. It might bring to mind for us the assassination of Archbishop Thomas Becket in the Middle Ages, while he was in Canterbury Cathedral. Or, in more recent times, of the murder of Archbishop Oscar Romero as he conducted communion in a church in El Salvador. 

Now, let’s be honest here. We know, as we read through Luke, that there is little love lost between the people of Judea and the Galileans. Many Jews viewed those in Galilee as second-rate Jews, somewhere between true Jews and heathen Gentiles. So, those making the report are, actually, raising several questions in one. First, the age-old question of the reason for such meaningless suffering. But, there’s also a suggestion here that what has happened to the Galileans has, in some respect, been deserved, because they were viewed as less faithful than other Jews. It’s why Jesus asks the question, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than other Galileans?” And then, it’s why he sharpens the question, bringing it closer to home by referring to another incident in Jerusalem. “Do you think that the eighteen people on whom the tower of Siloam fell and killed deserved it because they were more sinful than others in Jerusalem?”

Now, we may think that we think differently than this. But I wonder if we do. How many of us, when we’ve seen people suffering from famine in another country, wonder just for a moment if this might be happening because of something they did or didn't do. Or when we see suffering in the inner city, we wonder if it's because of their sin and the life mistakes they've made. Or what about the poor. And the commonly held belief that I often hear expressed that, if they’d only made better choices. What’s the right choice when one has to choose between paying the rent or putting food on the table?

Jesus takes it one step further, then, in the text, to show us that we are posing the question in the wrong way. The surprising thing is not that so many die, but that we still live. Because, if it were a matter of sin, we would all be dead. Twice, Jesus says, “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” And, then he tells a parable, which is where we continue in our reading.

Jesus told this parable: “A man owned a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit on it and found none. He said to his gardener, ‘Look, I’ve come looking for fruit on this fig tree for the past three years, and I’ve never found any. Cut it down! Why should it continue depleting the soil’s nutrients?’ The gardener responded, ‘Lord, give it one more year, and I will dig around it and give it fertilizer. Maybe it will produce fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down.’” --Luke 13:6-9 (CEB)

What’s the meaning of this parable for Jesus’ listeners? It means that those who survive - the Galileans not killed by Pilate, or those Jews on whom the tower did not fall, or those of us who have not died from famine, or those who are not poor - are living only by the grace of God. And that our continued life is for the purpose of bearing fruit.

Now this passage is often used by those who preach the “prosperity gospel.” That the good things we receive are a reward for our faith and our fruitfulness. But, in fact, the truth Jesus speaks here is exactly the opposite. Notice that the fig tree that is receiving special care is getting it because it has yet to give the fruit it was meant to bear. It’s a reminder for us who live in comfortable houses, when so many are homeless, or enjoy a substantial income when so many are poor, or all kinds of food to eat when so many are hungry, or a relatively healthy body when so many are ill - that we have all of this not because we have been particularly faithful. And could it be that the reason why some of us have been given all these advantages is that, without them, we would have difficulty bearing fruit? Could it also be that our apparent advantages and privileges are also a warning about impending doom unless we bear fruit?

Repentance - true repentance - is less about shame and guilt and more about begging the Holy Spirit to turn us around. To help us reorient how we think. And how we live. Because our tendency is not much different as was the tendency of people in Jesus’ day.

Our reading continues in chapter 13. 

At that time, some Pharisees approached Jesus and said, “Go! Get away from here, because Herod wants to kill you.”

Jesus said to them, “Go, tell that fox, ‘Look, I’m throwing out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will complete my work. However, it’s necessary for me to travel today, tomorrow, and the next day because it’s impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those who were sent to you! How often I have wanted to gather your people just as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. But you didn’t want that. Look, your house is abandoned. I tell you, you won’t see me until the time comes when you say, Blessings on the one who comes in the Lord’s name.” --Luke 13:31-35 (CEB)

Jesus knows our tendencies. It’s why, no matter the threat that Herod represents, he will continue his journey to Jerusalem, even as he laments the city’s disobedience. Because his desire is to give them another chance. Just as with the fig tree, also given a second chance. And like us, too. Given another chance purely by the grace of God in Jesus Christ. May we, nurtured by the love and care of Jesus, repent and turn around that we might bear fruit as God’s faithful people. Here. In this time and this place. Amen.

Preached February 28, 2021, online with Third Lutheran and Grace & Glory Lutheran churches, Louisville/Goshen, KY.

Second Sunday of Lent

Readings: Psalm 122, Luke 13:1-9, 31-35