Matthew 13: 24-30 Romans 8: 12-25
When the Bible first came to NZ it became a kind of treasure, a sacred object (as we have just heard). People travelled for miles to get a copy. Stories were also told, not just about the Bible as a kind of taonga but about the effect of this book. With the book came a rumour, a rumour of a new world, a new possibility, a new kind of God. Rather than a world groaning under the constant neverending process of revenge killing, of warfare, and utu (not unlike what we see in the Gaza and Israel right at the moment), there are rumours that God is creating a new world of forgiveness and reconciliation. Things need not be how they are.
The bible is not just a kind of sacred object… it’s the bearer of news of a new future.
Today’s parable tells of the world as a field/as a mixed bag of wheat and weeds, of good and evil. And the servants come in (lets call them the cowboys) and they want to eliminate the weeds. They want to clear the world of ‘bad guys’ (those are the ones who wear ‘black hats’ – so you know which ones to shoot). But Jesus says NO.
Evil is on its way out. Don’t panic. Keep calm and carry on, even if there are weeds in the garden. Even if there are dirty dishes in the kitchen. Don’t panic.
The problem is closeness. The good and the bad are just too close together. It’s a fragile ecosystem – pull up the one and you destroy the other. It’s like their intertwined even at the roots.
Paul takes this closeness even further. What he hopes for in Romans 8 is ‘the redemption of our bodies’. God and evil go right through the middle of each human heart. They are interwoven through the sinews and synapses of our bodies.
Hope for the redemption of our bodies, these complicated bodies, says Paul gives rise to groaning. Not a groan of resignation, or acceptance of a bad situation, or of cynicism or despair… Not merely a groaning of pain. But a groaning also of hope for something new. Hope is dangerous.
Paul calls it a groaning of ‘labour pains’ – pains of birth, the screaming of a mother whose body feels like it is being split in two, is nevertheless a scream of hope… and not despair.
For Paul as for the writer of John’s gospel, Jesus is ‘Saviour of the world’ – the world you work in, and raise your children in and watching movies in and find happiness in… that world. If we are waiting for anything it’s the salvation of that world. That’s the big picture of the gospel. The world will be saved. And that world includes our human bodies and life together.
So for Paul it’s not just about good people and bad people, its about a change that happens to the world, in time. Its a mixed world of wheat and weeds, but things are changing. The old world, the world we are born into – Paul calls it “the flesh” is under the dominion of death and all our anxieties bound up with that – this world is passing away. And the new world, the world that interrupts this world is what set’s us free. He calls it the world of the Spirit. It’s breaking in. I am reminded of a line of Malcolm Gordon’s song – “I am waiting …for heaven to break in”
You know what it’s like waiting at a bus stop… a watched pot never boils. The speed of time is variable thing. The quality of waiting depends enormously on what you are doing.
“So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh – for if you live according to the flesh you will die (the life of the old world pays its own wages – death); but if you live by the Spirit and put to death the deeds of the body, you will live”
You can put your body in the old world or in the new world… Our bodies are on the line here for redemption. Our bodies and the world being saved are bound up together. Paul effectively says that you can’t separate the human world from the non-human creation. They’ve been joined at the hip.
At first it seems tragic. What have we done to this earth? But for Paul it is also hopeful.
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it in hope, that the creation itself will be set free of its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of children of God.
See that… the wellbeing of the non-human creation is connected (in God’s purposes) to the freedom of human beings (and vice versa).
“We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.”
Even if the old world seems to be on the point of collapsing. Perhaps especially if it looks like disaster, Paul has faith in the risen Christ to create something new. He calls this groaning creation ‘birth pains’.
When the Bible came to NZ it didn’t just bring rumours of a new world. It also came with the baggage of an empire – the British Empire, which morphed into the globalised modern neo-liberal hypercapitalist empire we live in today.
My friend Andrew Shepherd did a lecture this week for the Centre for Theology and public issues… and he began with a series of images of the future as it is hitting us even now. Dramatic images of flooding and drought and hurricane damage (products of global warming). Vivid images of creation groaning. In that context he cited: Jacques Atalli from 1991
“By 2050, 8 billion people will populate the earth. More than two-thirds will live in the poorest countries. Seeking to escape their desperate fate, millions will attempt to leave behind their misery to seek a decent life elsewhere. But neither the Pacific nor the European spheres will accept the majority of poor nomads. They will close their borders to immigrants. Quotas will be erected and restrictions imposed. (Renewed) social norms will ostracize foreigners. Like the fortified cities of the Middle Ages, the centres of privilege will construct barriers of all kinds, trying to protect their wealth.”
Jacques Attali, Millennium: Winners and Losers in the Coming World Order (1991)
The truth is Jacques Attali wasn’t far off with his prediction. The high tech future for the 2 billion is also fast becoming the massive mega-slum future for 6 billion. The empire looks on the point of collapse. Perhaps we live in the kind of world St Benedict did, when he established his monasteries at the End of the Roman Empire?
You have to wonder. How we can share in Paul’s confidence when he concludes “For in hope we are saved…” Where did Benedict and Paul got their hope from? Certainly from a very different story about our place in the world. Not a story of limitless expansion and growth and the idea of a world centred around human beings and what they and their market forces want to make of it. They certainly had a very different story about our situation in God’s world (not ours). But perhaps even more importantly…. they saw the “redemption of bodies” in the communities in which they lived. They saw signs of hope. Hope comes when a different life is lived together… a different economy on the ground in our local relationships, local affection, in touch with the earth. Embodied hope. They saw signs of God’s redemption of bodies. So they waited… and in waiting put their bodies on the line.
16“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’
I love this metaphor for Jesus interaction with his society, or, as he puts it with ‘this generation’. They don’t want any surprises! They want the apocalypse now and they want it according to plan. The kingdom of God will be a matter of the messiah playing according to their rules. They play the flute and Jesus dances to their tune.
Jesus then does a rant – a rant against cities that failed to repent – Chorazin and Bethsaida. My first reaction is one of astonishment. Jesus expected cities to repent!? We expect individuals to repent but not cities. Jesus seems to expect both. It reminds me of the parable of the Sheep and the Goats when ‘all the nations of the earth are gathered’. It is about the judgment on nations not individuals. It is about how nations treated the weakest among them (the hungry, those in prison).
Have you ever wondered how Jesus expected Chorazin and Bethsaida to repent? … Do you imagine Jesus as some kind of Billy Graham with altar calls? Or perhaps you imagine him doing submissions to the city council on behalf of the kingdom of God, to make sure it’s in the ‘long term plan’.
Actually both of these ideas are very modern ways of thinking. Jesus preached a kingdom not an individualised gospel… but he also didn’t preach a bureaucratic kingdom. It’s very hard with modern minds to rethink some of these things.
The reality is cities and nations are not just buildings, for all their distortion, they are forms of human community. We don’t just live in cities. Cities live in us. To coin a cliche: You might be able to take the person out of Dunedin, but its another matter to take Dunedin out of the person.
At this point I want to segway into the text from Romans. I think this is what Paul is hinting at when he tells of his struggles. He was part of the ‘generation’ that Jesus is complaining about. The generation who plays the flute, but finds that Jesus does not dance to their tune.
Paul has been formed from childhood by a flute tune that clashes with Jesus one. And Jesus has interrupted this pattern, this city within him. And now he sees Jesus as the fulfilment of the Law of God. He delights in this law, he says. He wants to be a follower of Jesus who loved God with all this being and his neighbour (including his enemies) as himself. But this is not automatic. If there is anything that is automatic it is the city that still lives in him, in his habits and his pattern and his behaviour.
Do you relate to this?…
For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. …For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.
Sometimes I get the impression that people think that doing the right thing is just a matter of knowing what it is and wanting to do it. And that those who struggle like Paul did, as somehow mentally unbalanced. But what if this is normal life for a Christian… someone who has a city inside them and yet whose life has been interrupted by Jesus.
How many of our actions are not what we really want to do?
I don’t want to eat that much?
I don’t want to watch so much television?
I don’t want to buy products that are traded unjustly to the detriment of people in poverty in china or cambodia.
I don’t want to use so much carbon or drive my car so often
I don’t want to drink too much alcohol
I don’t want to be prejudiced against certain types of people
After this amazingly modern description of psychological struggle he is caught up in, Paul concludes with these words. “Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Let’s just sit with that phrase for a moment. Is it just a familiar phrase that has drained of meaning for our lives? Or is it a truth that resonates deep within us?
Just when you think it’s a lost cause, Paul gives us these words to reflect on. It is God, through Jesus Christ who will rescue us from ‘this body of death’, from all the habits of mind that bind us, the addictions, all the social situations of injustice that seem to give us no other options for our life… in short: The city that possesses us will not win the victory! There is a much greater reality for Paul… which, for a while he loses sight of as he describes his struggle.
It’s easy to lose sight of this fact isn’t it? God, through Jesus, is rescuing us from this ‘body of death’.
Let’s go back to Jesus, ranting against the cities of Chorazin and Bethsaida. For Jesus things take a positive turn at the end of the reading. He says:
“I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants;
Infants… the little and powerless of the world. In contrast to the establishment, the city planners of Chorazin and Bethsaida, the truth about God has come to earth among the little ones who gather around Jesus. To them he says:
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
To the workers on the borderlands of the establishment: I will give you rest. Not rest in contrast to work, but rest in the midst of work. Restful work.
Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say Come to me all you that are weary and I will take your burden off you and release you from your yokes. He doesn’t say, you tired people who have worked all your life can now take a break from the kingdom of God and do something for yourself. He says, the kingdom of God is work that is restful. It is Sabbath work. It’s an incredible lightness of being. Take my yoke upon you.
Thanks be to God, who, in Jesus Christ, brings us to let go of the city that controls our hearts and replaces that city with the joy and vision and work of the kingdom of God.
Welcome to another difficult passage of scripture: the story of the binding of Isaac.
Let’s begin by asking: How did Jesus think about this passage? There’s section in John’s gospel which sheds some light on this. It comes at a time when Jesus’ life is increasingly in danger. At one point in Chapter 8 he replies to the Judean crowd “I know that you are descendants of Abraham; yet you look for an opportunity to kill me, because there is no place in you for my word.” And then in verse 39 and 40 we read:
“They answered him ‘Abraham is our Father.’ Jesus said to them ‘If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing what Abraham did, but now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God.”
So what did Abraham do? Lots of things… took his family to a strange land, had children in his old age… sure… but what did he do in relation to killing? Brian Zahnd (the book I referred to last Sunday) says the answer is plain and simple. Abraham put down the knife.
What Jesus sees in the story of the binding of Isaac, was not so much a man who was prepared to kill his son, what Jesus sees, above all else, is a man who didn’t sacrifice his son, the man who put down the knife.
Context is so important for our Genesis reading. In the world out of which the story of Abraham arose, sacrifice of children was normal. We can hardly imagine such a world. And (more than any other reason) that’s because we live after Jesus. For us after Jesus, the story of Abraham and Isaac is simply horrible… child abuse, perhaps even divine child abuse. And yet in the economy of the Ancient Near East god’s and humans did business in human life and human blood. Children were currency in the business of propitiating (or pacifying) the gods. It was just part of the necessity of staying alive. In that context there is nothing at all strange about this mysterious God calling for a child sacrifice. That’s what gods did. In that context, sacrificing your child is not strange. What is strange is not sacrificing your child. What is strange, new, and decisive for the world after Abraham is this story of the end of sacrifice. The slogan from this story is not ‘God demands sacrifice’ it is ‘God provides’ – that’s the name they give the place on Mt Moriah – God provides an alternative to human sacrifice.
And as a result what you see in Israel is a radical break with the whole tradition of sacrifice in the Ancient Near East. Not an instant end to religion and the rituals of sacrifice. Israel developed a different kind, a unique kind of religion from anything else in the Ancient Near East. They still had a temple, at least until Jesus time when he challenged it and then the Romans knocked it down, and they still had sacrifices of sorts, albeit not human sacrifice. But the important difference that is not always noticed is this: the sacrifices of Israel are no longer directed towards God. In the sacrifices in Israel’s temple the priest represents God and the sacrifices represent what God provides for the cleansing and healing of the world. God doesn’t have to be appeased, or propitiated in order not to punish. There is no exchange going on whereby sacrifice is a kind of payment proportionate to how bad you had behaved. (for those interested Darrin Belousek’s book has an excellent chapter with full detail on this issue).
In Israel it begins to be all about ‘God provides’. It moves from exchange with the gods… to a celebration of God’s giving (grace). God provides what is necessary for the restoration of life. Restorative justice… rather than retributive.
And in continuity with that Jesus reads the story of Abraham and Isaac with its key moment in the point God provided and the potential sacrifice of Isaac was halted. At that point God was defined for Israel, not as the God to be propitiated, not as the God who demanded blood, but as the God who provides.
What that means for us, I think, is that that one of the first things we need to learn as Christians is to be people who can receive gifts…. who can receive the gift of life. God provides.
Jesus sends his disciples out to be prophets of the kingdom. To declare the news that God’s government of the world is arriving. And to go from house to house. The provider is coming ready or not. And one of the things Jesus focuses and spends some time emphasising is that the ambassadors of this provider need to be people who can receive hospitality – not merely those who give it. Imagine for a moment if our task after leaving this service were to go around the local community knocking on doors asking for hospitality?… It would be bad enough if it was just our fellow parishioners wouldn’t it?
Is Jesus naive… sending them out like this with such optimism. Well, hardly, he tells them at the beginning of his speech that they will be hated. He tells them they are going into conflict. And yet knowing that he invites them to prepare also for hospitality. To be ready also to receive from others.
It’s kind of a nice flip-side to last Sunday’s sermon. In spite of the fact that what Jesus teaches is so deeply challenging to the way the world works that it will bring division even within families (“not peace but a sword”), nevertheless Jesus is still confident that some will open their doors. They are being sent out in the power of the spirit… and they will discover that the Spirit is not their possession, the Spirit will also go ahead of them.
So they are going up nervously to doorsteps knowing from Jesus that they could face anything from a ‘sword’ on the other side of the door, to a warm meal and a bed for the night. That’s the kind of vulnerability he called them to.
Let me share for a moment about Lunch at Sidey. (for those of you from other parishes… this is a project in our parish that is giving me a lot of joy at the moment – free lunch on Thursdays at 11.30am every week).
When you start up something like a free lunch… it’s very easy to think in terms of providers and clients (to use the current terminology)… its almost automatic, people ask whether you have done your ‘market research’. But very quickly you discover that everyone who comes along to lunch is a provider. There are no customers. Each person provides hospitality for everyone else… I find myself learning from people’s life experience, accepting their welcome, discovering friendship.
When Brenda, and Jan and Trina, and Mary and I got started on this we didn’t do our market research. We simply saw an opportunity to express the kingdom of God. As it turned out God provided and continues to provide. But one of the things God is providing is hospitality for all of us. We are the beneficiaries.
In learning what it means to be “missional church”, we are learning to be receivers. And as people trained from childhood in self-sufficiency. It is not always an easy lesson.
Thanks be to God.
This passage is a difficult one! And two different kinds of difficulty have been the focus of my attention as I have meditated on this text this week. The first kind of difficulty has to do with whether Jesus is consistent as a teacher. Is he contradicting himself here. And the second has to do with the practical difficulty of actually taking Jesus seriously.
Let’s look at the apparent contradiction first. Verse 34 “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” That seems pretty clear. But the question is, how can he say that after he has said earlier in Matthew’s Gospel, “blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called children of God” and then again, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ but I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.” and then “You have heard it said ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy’ but I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” How can the world’s most radical peacemaker, say he did not come to bring peace but a sword?
As always with these kinds of things the context clarifies what might be meant here. In today’s story Jesus is sending his disciples out to the villages of Israel and he says ‘You will be hated by all because of my name’. That’s the clue! He knows that his gospel of the kingdom challenges the very foundations of the world. It’s not just unfashionable for some. What Jesus is on about is a threat to everyone. But he sends them into this world anyway, safe in the knowledge (and this may sound crazy to us) that the haters can only kill the body and God who has the power over our ultimate destiny is in fact the gracious Father counts the hairs of our head and notices even the death of a sparrow (and values each of us profoundly). In other words, the one who really matters, says Jesus, is with you when all the world is against you.
But the point is, the immediate reception of the peacemakers, whom Jesus calls ‘children of God’ will not be a peaceful one. It’s not a peaceful life he is offering them, even if they carry his message of peace. This paradox, the catches their attention… It’s because he was known as a preacher of peace that his statement about not bringing them peace makes everyone sit up and listen. In the immediate future the life of his peacemakers will be anything but peaceful.
For Jesus the conflict between his disciples and the world is not just an accident of circumstance. Jesus says that he comes to reveal what is hidden since the foundation of the world. In other words, this world that will hate his disciples is founded on something so pervasive that they are oblivious to it. It’s like fish, who can’t see the water. And when Jesus reveals it and introduces a different world he is not going to be welcome. He’s just going to seem irrelevant at first, or even dangerous, to those in power. Even today after 2000 years of this idea of loving enemies and the development of notions like ‘human rights’ we still know in our hearts that there is something profoundly destabilising, politically destabilising about the call to ‘love our enemies’. Nations are built on the need to hate enemies. So there is a deep paradox. Because of this hatred at the root of society… the makers of peace will not, at least initially, bring peace.
But let’s take it down to the family level as Jesus does with his would be disciples.
Jesus talks about conflict that even divides families because of him. Look at Jesus own relationship to his family. John 7:5 says ‘not even his brother’s believed in him’. What does that mean? Does it mean that Jesus brother’s couldn’t believe that he was the second person of the trinity? Not at all. The question of whether Jesus was divine in some way arose after the resurrection, when the brother’s began to see things in a whole new light. What his brother’s couldn’t accept or believe in was his politics. They could accept that he was the kind of Messiah he claimed to be. A Messiah who loved his enemies i.e. enemies of Israel could only be a contradiction.
Brian Zahnd (whose book I have been reading this week – and recommend highly, its called ‘A Farewell to Mars’) says we have the same problem today. We can believe in Jesus ‘theologically, spiritually, sentimentally … but not politically. We believe Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity, but we don’t really believe he was a competent political theologian.’
In John 7:7 when Jesus realised that even his brother’s didn’t believe he could be the Messiah without a sword Jesus says to his brothers “The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify against it, that its works are evil.”
That’s a really interesting statement…
Brian Zahnd comments on this that its hard to imagine that Jesus brothers didn’t testify in some way about the evils of the world. They were pious Jews. James was know in the early church as ‘James the just’. But Jesus was the one who had the analysis that got him killed. Jesus was the one who testified not primarily about what might be called the symptomatic sins of the world – prostitution, tax-collection and so on – those kinds of morally and socially unacceptable social symptoms… we might say. Jesus had a focus at a completely different level. He went to the root of the problem.
Which leads us to the deeper difficulty of this passage. The deeper difficulty is not a theoretical one, its a practical one. Do we really want to follow? Are we prepared to take him serious. Publically! Todays reading is all about Jesus disciples going public. Not simply to take seriously the idea that he is the Son of God. But to take seriously the fact that his politics are God’s politics and therefore ours also. If we just believe in him in our private lives, we won’t get into any trouble. There will be no razor blade dividing our families. To put it less dramatically than Jesus does, the profound tensions Jesus talks about will not threaten our closest relationships. We will simply live relatively comfortably in the same world everyone else lives in. But if we take Jesus seriously enough to seek to embody the kingdom (as our church mission statement puts it) well, we can’t say Jesus didn’t warn us.
As I stand up here with these observations. It crosses my mind that one common response is to be grateful that we live in a world where Christians are not persecuted. The problem with this observation is that I fear we also live in a world where Christians have made an art of not taking Jesus’ politics seriously, a world in which the majority of those who claim to believe in Jesus seem to be oblivious to the fact that the incarnate Son of God is also the most significant political theologian the world has ever seen.
And then as I stand up here with these observations I am also aware the some of our congregation do indeed know the consequences of taking Jesus seriously. They have sought to ‘embody the kingdom’ and have felt that razor blade cut deeply into what they thought were close relationships. Blessed are you peacemakers. You are children of God.
Psalm 8, Matthew 28:16-20
What does it mean to be human? … That is the topic of todays sermon. In the Psalm we see it in the words of the old translation ‘what is man that you are mindful of him?’
But notice how different it is if you put the question that way! It is not an abstract question about human nature, which I might imagine some philosophy of human life. It is the question of one who wonders at the mystery of the universe itself… And in that wonder addresses God as the source of all that is… This is not some ancient farmer calling on a local deity to protect him. This is someone who begins to consider God as creator of all. And in that context calls out to God in delight and wonder… wonder at the greatness of God and an intense awareness of the smallness of human life. Why does the creator of the universe have the slightest interest in human life?
And when the question is put that way… suddenly the question of what it means to be human becomes a question of responsibility. Humanity is responsible. Responsible to God the creator of all. Responsible for all that is less complex, less powerful than it. To ask the question that way, is to find ourselves at the intersection between God and the created world… conscious… but conscious in a very specific way… conscious of responsibility.
But notice the poet here is even more specific about God’s interest in humanity. God is interested in humanity as a location of danger in the scheme of things. Humanity is endangered by violence. The enemy and the avenger threaten God’s creation. God seeks to provide for creation in the light of this danger So in verse 2 we read
Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark (a defence, a strong place) because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger
It’s hard not to see an anticipation of the Christian gospel in this Psalm. God speaks here, from the mouths of the weakest of humanity. God chooses, not the warrior, but the little ones (babes and infants). It’s not clear in this brief and mysterious sentence, how the voice of the babes and infant silence the enemy and the avenger. But it is clear that the psalmist in his enthusiasm for the greatness of God is not worried about the usual so-called ‘realistic’ solutions to military and political problems.
And yet, having said that, the last thing the psalmist is doing is avoiding responsibility. To be human in the presence of God the creator is to be accountable to God for the welfare of the creation in which we live. The psalm calls it ‘dominion’ and if you listened to any of Selwyn Yeoman’s sermon’s over the last few years you’ll know that that doesn’t mean domination of the world. It doesn’t mean doing what we want with other creatures. It means care or stewardship, in the name of God who delights in all of creation – the language, the way the psalmist summarises the description of the created world is very similar to Genesis 1.
It’s an anticipation of the Gospel… Human beings matter so much in God’s purposes that God became flesh among the little folk of Israel… gathered a group of little ones to train in the Way of peace and reconciliation. To put it another way… human beings mattered so much to God that God took responsibility for their responsibility (which doesn’t mean that they no longer had responsibility… but that God enabled that responsibility after it had been disabled and bound up in sin). This is the mystery of the Gospel… God became human that we might be human also and thus participate in the life of God.
We live as shadows of our true humanity… And so Jesus lived a fully human life, gathered the least of the world around him as disciples and called them to ‘make disciples of all nations baptising them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit’ (according to our Gospel reading for today)
‘Making Disciples’: What does that mean?
I guess many of us grew up with a kind of idea about what it means for Christians to make disciples… this business that Jesus left in the hands of his disciples… We used to call it the Great Commission, often meaning that the mission of the church was to get people to join something… perhaps it was to join the number of the ‘saved’ through making some kind of decision… for others perhaps it was getting people to join the church, perhaps because it was thought to be a great way of improving society… or for whatever reason… My point is though, that Jesus doesn’t talk about joining something. Jesus talks about a process of learning and following. A disciple is a learner or a follower. The mission of the church is that the whole world (‘all nations’) learn the way of Jesus Christ.
And what we learn is the way of Jesus… because the name, Jesus, is now part of the name of God. God has moved into the human world. God is, in this complex way, moving out towards creation, towards humanity as a human person, that humanity might, with our own proper responsibility, move more fully into the life of God… and so all creation will flourish as it is intended to (as the writer of Psalm 8 imagined).
“teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you”…We are people under authority. The first thing about Christians is that they are followers of Jesus. If Jesus says to abandon the sword, we abandon the sword. If Jesus says to give our wealth to the poor, we give it to the poor. If Jesus says we are to love our enemies, we love them. We mightn’t know exactly how to do that in all situations, but we take that ‘how question’ with utmost seriousness.
“and remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age”
And in doing so we are not alone. We live with Jesus … and in the wake of Jesus… We live in the age between the ages.
And while doing so we call God, Trinity – Father, Son, Spirit. And we do so because Jesus is also God’s name. Jesus is not just ‘a human being’ the divine human being, God coming towards us, gathering us in the Spirit.
John 17: 1-11
This is Jesus last prayer for his friends before his departure. On such occasions prayer is appropriate. On all sorts of occasions prayer is appropriate, I guess. When do you stop to pray with others? It’s awkward isn’t it, if people aren’t expecting to pray. It’s like we need a special excuse. We have habits like praying before meals, so that becomes accepted. But what about other times? I wonder, have we lost the art of public prayer? Perhaps we need excuses to pause and wait on God in our everyday life? Is there a gap between public prayer and private prayer? Is it important to give expression together to our dependence on God? And when we lose the habit, how do we regain it without being manipulative or specially pious? Perhaps we shouldn’t need excuses to pray, but I suspect we lack confidence. I do.
So this is a prayer. Like all of John’s Gospel, but probably more so, though, this is also a theological reflection by the gospel writer, John. No one was sitting by taking notes when Jesus prayed. There were just memories that Jesus prayed, possibly memories of the themes of his prayers, but more significantly, memories of his sense of mission, his sense of what he was doing and how that related to God. And from these memories John composes a summary of Jesus praying.
Let’s think about that summary. Jesus looks up to heaven, and says “Father” – Abba. His relationship to God is one of intimate trust. This is the God he has been imitating all his life. His life has been an expression of the grace of Abba. And now, Jesus senses, ‘his hour has come’. The culmination of all that obedience… the final chapter in that lived expression of God’s life is upon him. And what matters to Jesus, as John understands it and recalls it, is that Abba is known, Abba is glorified. If God as the gracious one, the giver of life, if God’s self-giving is to be known to others, then Jesus must be enabled to carry it through to the end. The Son must be given the power to love to the end, so that the Father’s love will be known and the Father glorified. So he prays “Glorify the Son so that the Son may glorify you.” As the future church would say, there is an interchange of giving going on between Jesus and his Abba which is of the very essence of God. Giving and receiving is not just something God does, its something God is.
Then he gives thanks for his friends. These are the ones God has given him. Not the select few who will make good leaders in the future, not the smart and the good looking, who have chosen him… but the rag-tag bunch that God has given him. (In this sense Jesus is not unlike you and me… except we tend to be on the look out for better people with whom to spend our lives). The God who has given Jesus a universal mission in relation to all people, has nevertheless given him these particular people with whom to share his time on earth, these particular people with whom to share eternal life, and only because he shares eternal life with these particular people will the rest of the world also know eternal life.
Tell me, what is your definition of eternal life? [feedback]
Here Jesus gives a definition of eternal life. Did you notice it in our reading? “And this is eternal life, that they may know you the only true God and Jesus the anointed one whom you have sent”. Not live forever in heaven, but know God and messiah Jesus. Not ‘know’ in the sense of having a clear rational understanding of God. Not know about God but know God. Throughout the Old and the New Testament this same thought is there, that although God is beyond our understanding, knowing God in the sense of participating in God’s life, interacting with God, is nevertheless what it’s all about. Eternal life is knowing God through knowing Jesus. As we enter into the life of Jesus and know him, so we enter into God’s life. This IS eternal life. Literally ‘zoe aionios’ – the life of the age to come – is given now.
Jesus is praying for them and for us… Jesus did not leave behind a body of teaching in a book (like the Qur’an) or a program to be followed. Jesus didn’t write anything. But what he did leave behind was a community. He makes it clear that he doesn’t pray directly for the world at this point. Sure it is clear in John’s gospel that the point of it all is that the world will be saved (John 3:17 – Jesus says to Nicodemus that he came from God so that ‘the world’ might be saved) but Jesus knows that God’s way of engaging the world is a community that has experienced and continues to experience eternal life. The community of the age to come lives now… and Jesus prays for them. A community who have seen the glory of God in the life of Jesus, a community who are kept in the ‘name of God’. Jesus last prayer is for us who make up the ‘left behind’ community – who by, virtue of their knowledge of God, are, for Jesus, nothing less than the hope of the world. And so he prays for us, in the words of one translation ‘keep a firm hold on them through the power of your name, which you have given me’
This week someone said to me, ‘Bruce, I have a problem, when I get annoyed and angry I keep taking the Lord’s name in vain’. I don’t think I had anything particularly helpful to say at the time. But it got me thinking about this concept of ‘the name of God’.
Jesus prays to the Father that he would keep his friends ‘in your name’. It’s a big concept. It’s not really about words, is it? My friend was thinking about the 10 Commandments and the one ‘thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain’. There is a Jewish tradition which does focus on the word itself… and makes the name of God something to be feared and never uttered aloud, YHWH.
Jesus not only speaks God’s name, he, in a sense, demythologises it. He takes away their fear by living out the life of God among them (this is where we can’t read John’s gospel understanding that the name of God is more than a word). He changes their understanding of God’s very nature. John makes it very clear, the inner character of God, the Word of God (The Name), becomes flesh, takes time among us. YHWH means ‘I am who I am’ or ‘I will be who I will be’. John’s Jesus rubs it in: I am the light of the world; I am the bread of life; I am the way; I am the truth; I am the life; I am the good shepherd...” Jesus exposes God’s name, demonstrates God’s name… but according to John, not by claiming glory for himself but by giving his life in shame, and giving glory to God who will raise him up. The name of God is manifest as and in gracious humility.
The interesting thing here is that these friends, this community that Jesus leaves behind, get to share in this same glory, they get to manifest the same name of God, they get to give their life away for others also. And as they do so they will be united in the same way that the Father and the Son are united. Not by being numerically identical, of course, but by giving and receiving our lives from one another.
Jesus prays for us… that we will give and receive our lives from each other… and as we do that we will be one body. Not by agreeing on everything. Not by being identical to each other… but by letting go of the possession, the possessiveness that we feel about our life and our self. Which is harder… to give your life to someone else or to receive it from someone else?
We like being original… being the origin of our own life. We don’t like receiving our life from others. We have learnt to deeply value independence.
It seems to me that things like this (independence) are a better example of what it means to take the name of God ‘in vain’ than yelling out ‘God’ or ‘Jesus’ when we hit our finger with a nail.
We bear, in our body, in our life together, the name of God – even the glory of God, or Jesus prayer has not been answered.
Last week Jesus anticipated going to his death, in order to prepare a place for us, for many people, and talks of coming back from his death, in resurrection, in order to be with them, in the Father’s house, to be the Way in which we live with the Father.
In this week’s reading Jesus promises them the Spirit
What does it mean that we have the Spirit? Is it about warm feelings in our heart? Is it about special gifts or powers? Maybe… maybe its about both of those things… We have no idea about the limit’s of human possibility set free by the presence of God – or what a truly human life would look like in the power of the Spirit of God (except of course we know that it is in Jesus own life)… But today I want to suggest something more specific… rather I think our text from John suggests something more than both of these things.
Jesus says “I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever… This is the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot receive.”
Jesus is our advocate… but he promises another advocate
Let’s take that word Advocate. Some translations have ‘comforter’ and ‘helper’ and ‘counsellor’. Some don’t even translate it at all. They just put the Greek word paracletos into English and invent a new word, Paraclete. You may have come across that term. The fact is paracletos (in its basic meaning) simply means Advocate, or perhaps even better, ‘Public Defender’. Many commentators don’t quite know what to make of Jesus claim to send a ‘public defender’ an ‘appointed lawyer for the defence’ to be in us. It just seems a bit weird. What does he mean?
I suspect very few, in any of us here today, have actually been on trial and in need of a defence lawyer. And yet at a deeper level, how often do we feel the need to defend ourselves. Say, for example, Jan says to me, “I wish you could help more with the housework”, I can feel like I’m on trial. I have these antennae that are very sensivitive to possible trials. Even if she says it to me in a nice way. Even if she is quite justified and the request is reasonable, which it probably is, that still doesn’t stop me feeling like I need to defend myself. I wonder how much of our lives do we spend trying to justify or defend ourselves with others? Our desperate need for the approval of others means we are constantly trying to justify ourselves to them. Maybe it’s your boss, or someone you work with, or your parents or your spouse, or your minister. Do you find yourself lying awake at night, thinking up the big speech you’re going to deliver in order to defend yourself the next day?
And how often is defense hard to distinguish from attack and accusation. How often do we find that psychologically, with our worries about our place in the world, our significance, war is a way of life – for fragile people like all of us are.
I was listening to National Radio this week and I heard a program about soldiers who were in hospital during world war 1 and the British soldier got to know the German soldier and they developed some mutual respect and one day the German soldier said to the British guy, something like “It’s crazy that we are at war, two of the finest military nations in the world. Think of what we could do if we joined forces against the rest of the world.” [hmmm]
At some point defense and offence merge into a world-view where the struggle for superiority is just taken for granted. Whether it be in our personal life, or in our empire.
Jesus says, into the world of accusation, self-accusation, and self-justification and defensiveness, I will send an Advocate who will be in you – the Spirit of truth.
The Spirit of Truth… They say the first victim of war is truth. You know the main reason we struggle to really listen to one another well? We are busy trying to compose our defence speech while the other person is still speaking. We need the advocate, the Spirit, who takes away our self-defence… so we can listen… and as we can listen to one another and to God, truth happens. Truth and war don’t mix at a political level… nor at a personal level.
Imagine the weight coming off our shoulders (the peace of mind) when we realize (not just in our head, but in our hearts) that we really and truly do not need to defend ourselves!
A spirit of truth who creates a difference in the world – a Jesus-difference. Hear the difference. Jesus says of this advocate “The world cannot receive [him], because it neither sees him nor knows him”
The world is blind to the Jesus-difference … Why is that? Not needing to justify ourselves… is other-worldly… it makes no sense because the world runs according to a different system altogether. According to the Testament the world is under the sway not of the counsel for the Defence but of the Prosecution (Satam = Accuser). According to this system, according to the ‘real world’ of the ‘accuser’ (Satan), Jesus is invisible… we would say ‘unrealistic’. And apparently what we need most is to be realistic.
We, on the other hand, according to Jesus, know the Spirit within us. We will have spiritual vision. We will see Jesus in the world. Do you see Jesus in the world? Jesus, still alive, in other human beings, particularly among ‘the least of these’.
I will not leave you orphaned!… [advertising opportunity for the Tom Waite album] (parentless) He will continue to parent us spiritually.
A few years ago a guy called Mark Skelton [see picture above] wrote this very simple and stark story in the Guardian about his life. It was entitled ‘Our daughter will be an orphan’. He told how his life was going along swimmingly with his beloved wife and daughter, and one day he went to the dentists for a pain that wouldn’t go away and he discovered his sinuses had a rare form of cancerous tumour. He talked about how he tried to remain positive and how his 11 year old daughter encouraged him with her optimism and how he began to prepare for his death. And then a few months later his wife Amanda went to the doctor with a back pain and she also had an inoperable cancer. He goes on to tell how he is relating to his wife and his daughter who will be an orphan possibly before her 12th birthday.
What this incredibly powerful story made me think about was the closeness of parent child relationships… we live in each other, we live in our children and our children live in us, we live in our parents and our parents live in us. Even our rebellion against our parents is a kind of ‘living in’, it’s because the other has formed us so profoundly in our identity that we react so strongly. Our children live in us and we in our children. And it’s not just in our family, we live in other people. None of us is an island. To be human is to be formed in our innermost being by significant others.
Jesus says to them and to us in a world of struggle and accusation, in a world where we internalize that accusation and start to accuse ourselves. In a world where, on the other hand, we might dare to imagine and practice another way… “I will not leave you orphaned… I will come to you. Because I live, you will live also.”
Not just live physically of course, but live in him as children live in their parents.
“On that day you will realize,” says Jesus, “that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.”
What the Spirit in us means for us is that we will live in Jesus and he in us, something like the way parents live in their children and children live in their parents. Not just in our DNA, deeper still, in our identity as people.
Because he lives we will live, in his presence and in the presence of the advocate our lives will take on a new quality, a freedom