
| John 1:29-42 January 20, 2008 The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.” The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came 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 who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter). To continue a theme from last Sunday, around cars and driving, and skill behind a wheel, I have to confess that in addition to barely passing my driver’s license test way back when, I am not a very good navigator. You know, some people have an incredible intuition when it comes to knowing to how to get from point A to point B, but not me. One of my friends during my seminary days had this eerie ability to point towards what direction we wanted to go in the city of Atlanta, and find his way there through all the back streets, through the neighborhoods around the city, and get us there every time! It was amazing! It left me speechless, because I once spent 2 hours one night in that very city trying to get back home to my house from an area that was maybe 15 minutes away—I was on the verge on tears of frustration by the time I got home. And there is a reason my mother got me a GPS car navigation for my Christmas and birthday presents last year—she knows I can’t find my way out of a paper bag! I have no sense of direction, no sense of north or south—don’t ever tell me to north then turn east if you don’t want a blank stare from me in return. Mom knows I need a navigator because I have no sense of direction, and that is probably one of the reasons she is so glad that Douglas is in my life—he prevents me from getting too lost in this world, something I appreciate about him as well. In our passage this Sunday, its sort of the same thing with the disciples, they’re a lot more like me than any of them would ever want to admit. They find themselves intrigued and willing to follow after this man from the town of Nazareth, but they’re not quite sure where they are going, or what they are looking for in their decision to follow after him. Now, what makes this interesting story even more interesting is the backdrop to it all, to the possible lives of these would-be disciples of Jesus. Many scholars think that the background of Jesus’ earliest disciples were a little more complicated than the traditional picture of them being just simple fishermen or tax collectors—many think that perhaps his earliest disciples were part of various sects that were heavily invested in the coming of a Jewish Messiah that would bring about the end of Roman rule, that would challenge the powers that be, and finally elevate Israel to its rightful place at the center of the world, if not the universe itself. And so if you consider that possibility, it makes this moment even more interesting, especially the latter part of our passage today. Some of John’s disciples become Jesus’ disciples because John witnesses to Jesus’ uniqueness and points to him as the lamb of God, the one the world has been waiting for—of course, this is in contrasts to the role of John the Baptist in the other three Gospels, who functions primarily as a baptizer of Jesus in the river Jordan. Here John tells his disciples to follow after Jesus, to go after this man Jesus, rather than to continue with him in work at the Jordan. They are messianic Jews, these men, ready for the Messiah to come quickly with raw power, but John points them toward a surprising man from Nazareth, and so two of these disciples follow after him, uninvited by Jesus, really, if you compare the other call stories of the disciples in the following verses, where Jesus actually calls the disciples by asking them to “follow me.” And so the story goes that Jesus turns around to these would-be disciples, and he asks them a striking and unusual question: “What are you looking for?” Now, obviously, Jesus can’t just simply think that they’ve lost their way, or perhaps, have that weird, creepy feeling some of us have when we notice someone we don’t know seemingly following us for no good reasons, making us a little nervous. It doesn’t seem to be that kind of moment—he isn’t asking a “why”question of them. He knows why they are following him—they are hoping that he is going to be the Messiah they want him to be, a fiery, sword-wielding, sort of leader. No, Jesus is asking them a “what” question— what are you looking for? And, in reading their reaction, I think this stuns these two men—I think up to this moment they thought they knew what they were looking for, but now, when pressed by this Jesus of Nazareth, they weren’t quite sure anymore about what they were looking for. Maybe it was the turn of the question, or the piercing look from his eyes, or something else left in the dustbin of time, but something changed the moment they were asked that question by Jesus, and it left our poor friends stumbling around, asking about the evening’s hotel reservations. There is a wonderful story about the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) who was in a public garden poring over a particular plant for a very long time. A police officer, his suspicions aroused, approached him and demanded: "Who are you?" Schopenhauer looked the officer in the eye, scratched his chin, and chose his words carefully. "Sir, if you could only answer that question for me, I'd be eternally grateful." Almost like Schopenhauer, one second the disciples know who they are and what they want—they are messianic Jews who want Israel to be the center of all that is—and the next moment, they have no idea of who they are and what they are looking for, simply because someone asked them this piercing question. And what does Jesus say to their inquiries about what Ramada he will be staying at that evening? “Come and see, come and see.” Oh, one could spend hours unpacking those words alone from this passage! But I’m going to stick with something we discussed in last year’s Gospel of John Bible study we had here at the church, and that is this: Christ doesn’t give them theological rundown on what they should or shouldn’t believe, he doesn’t lay out the trinity for them, or an early version of the Apostles Creed, or the Westminster Catechism, or the UCC Statement of Faith, or any other of the ways we Christians have attempted to organize and demystified Mystery itself— Jesus only asks them to come with him on the journey, to come and seen for themselves. As I’ve said before, most recently in the Extraordinary Relationship workshop, people don’t come to some sort of truth in their lives because they’ve been argued into that truth—they come to that truth because they’ve come to experience that truth for themselves, they have gone and seen that truth for themselves, so to speak. So it with Christ, I think, in this passage—he knows that truth that becomes OUR TRUTH comes not from books, though I loath to admit that, or from us preacher types, and I really loath to admit that, but from our real, lived experience of God in this world, or any other truth we’re struggling to understand. And when I say that it’s hard to admit that, well, I’m telling the truth. I remember being annoyed as a young person when someone would say that they didn’t know the answer to something I was asking, whether it was a big question or small question. I especially couldn’t imagine that some of the wise mentors I known over the years didn’t know the spiritual directions to get to the place I wanted to go to, or didn’t have some inner spiritual GPS system that would help them arrive at the place I was looking for. It didn’t exist, they kept telling me, and over the years, I’ve come to realize how wise these folks really were…especially, when you consider how often the church has made the mistake of over-relying on creeds and even sacred scriptures, as valuable as they may be in the spiritual journey. These wise mentors, these great teachers, in my life could never tell me what to do, or why to do it—all they could offer me was wisdom about who to follow, and whose words I might attend to, and whose life is worth studying—just like Jesus, all they could do was to invite me to come and see, to follow after this One from Nazareth and come and see for myself what real truth might look like. It was awfully frustrating to have Ronnie, my youth minister, saying to me, at 16, to hear him say the words, “I don’t know…you may have to work that one out for yourself.” Wise words, but scary words, as I imagine the words, “come and see” were for those early disciples when Jesus said it to them. Recently, a study was published by a conservative Christian survey company that did some extensive polling of how young people outside the church view those of us in the church, and they found three main negative perceptions people ages 16-29 have of our Christian faith: they found the church to be judgmental, they found to be church to hypocritical, and they found to the church to be too anti-gay. (http://www.usatoday. com/news/religion/2007-10-10-christians-young_N.htm) I must admit that the last perception stunned me, which just shows you how the world is sometimes changing for the better. But, you know, it’s the first two perceptions that have haunted the Christian church since the beginning of its birth, sadly. And I think it’s because we’ve pretended to know all the answers, and we’ve judged the ones who didn’t do and believe as we did to be outsiders, whereas we were the insiders. And then when we were found to be doing the very things we condemned in others, we were called out to be the hypocrites we actually were. Instead of being truthful about not having all the answers, we pretended we did, and then they found us out to be the liars that we were, right? Instead of inviting people to come and see as we follow this Jesus of Nazareth, we’ve told people go away and shut their eyes in order to not see, in order to not see the things that might challenge their faith. But the Christ doesn’t want us to go away with the truth all neatly boxed up and ready to go, he doesn’t want us to close our eyes so we can avoid the hard and challenging stuff. No, friends, the Christ wants us to come and see, and to follow after him, to trust that our next resting place will be in the hands of the one offering us a journey of a lifetime, just as he did with those first disciples thousands of years ago. Now, I don’t what you’re looking for, and I suspect that if we were pushed like Christ pushed those early disciples with that question, we would be hard pressed to actually be able to name what we were exactly looking for, though perhaps we would know what it was when we found it. If we’re looking for easy answers, I’m not sure the Christian journey is the one for us, because the journey of following after Christ may leave us with more questions than answers. If we’re willing to let go of our expectations of what truth is supposed to be like, as those early disciples had to, and we’re willing to following after the way of this One of Nazareth, this way of love, of hope, of openness, of grace, then maybe we won’t get wrapped up in the hypocrisy and judgmental attitudes that seem to plague so many of us Christians in the past and certainly in the present, those traits that have caused so many young people to abandon the church. I don’t know what you are looking for—boy, I am not sure what I am looking for—but I do know this: I know whom I follow, and that is more than enough for me. And If we were in Schopenhauer’s place when that policeman came up to us in that garden in the park, asking us who we were, I hope we would say this in reply, “I am a disciple of this Jesus, and yet I do not where he will lay his head this night, but wherever it is, it will be the place where I too will lay my weary head.” Amen. |