He’s a great preacher, my friend said, when she was telling me about her new pastor. “Of course, I haven’t understood most of what he’s said in his sermons.” I found that to be a pretty amazing statement. But perhaps that’s what some of you feel about my sermons even though you were very kind when you filled out your surveys. Today’s sermon is a short one (hold the applause) because we have much to celebrate as we welcome five (count them FIVE) new members.
But back to my friends comment…I expect if you pressed her on that statement she might tell you that understanding the ideas in the pastor’s sermons are not the point. She likes her new pastor, and she is happy to be part of his congregation. She likes him as a person before she likes him as a preacher. In fact, I would bet that if I had pressed her on this she would have told me about a time when she was in need and he visited her, or some conversation they had when he came up with just the right word at the right time, or perhaps it’s nothing that specific…maybe it’s just that she feels closer to God when she is in his presence. And if that is the case, then it really doesn’t matter if she ever understands what he is saying from the pulpit…because our connection to the living God is the most important kind of knowledge and understanding that we ever get.
In today’s gospel Jesus’ critics have had it with him. This reading comes from the Gospel of John and when Jesus speaks in John’s gospel it’s often a little evasive and ambiguous. Kind of like my friends pastor…a little hard to understand. Throughout that Gospel, Jesus describes himself by saying things like this…”I am the vine and you are the branches…I am bread…I am life…I am the way…I am the Good Shepherd. Yes, on one page He’s a Word, on the next a bridegroom, then He’s a boy, then a scapegoat, then a thief in the night; read on and He’s the messiah, then oops, He’s a rabbi, and then a fraction – a third of the Trinity – then a fisherman, then a broken loaf of bread. What is any of that supposed to mean? It’s all so symbolic, metaphorical and figurative.
So can we really blame those who in utter exasperation said to Jesus, “Show us plainly, directly and clearly who you are!” And in turn how can we blame Jesus for his exasperation with them? He says that he has been teaching them, and telling them and showing them, but they haven’t seen and they haven’t heard. Then Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice and they follow me.” Sheep? We’re back on the metaphorical, symbolic, and figurative. But maybe some of you know exactly what Jesus is talking about. Why are you this morning? Why are you, despite all of your weaknesses and misunderstanding, here following Jesus?
In the novel, The Brothers K, author David James Duncan tells the story of the Chance family, a family of four boys, two girls, an agnostic father, and a mother of passionate fundamentalist faith. They all have very different, ideas about God, Jesus, and the Bible. A major theme of the novel is the question, “Who is Jesus?” Each child attempts to make sense of the mysteries of their parents’ struggles with religion.
As one of the boys, Kincaid, puts it:
“It’s strange the way everybody has their own pet notion about Jesus, and nobody’s pet notion seems to agree with anybody else’s. Grandpa, for instance, says He’s ‘just a defunct social reformer.’ Then there’s Papa, who once said he’s God’s Son all right, and that he survived the crucifixion just fine, but after the two-thousand-year-old funeral service that his cockeyed followers call Christianity it probably made Him sorry He did. Meanwhile, there’s Freddie, who’s six now, and who told me he saw Christ hiding under his bed one night . . . And Bet, who spent a whole day making a Christmas card for Uncle Bill and Aunt Mary Jane last year, then got so proud of the card that she refused to mail it to anybody but herself . . . Then we all looked to see what she was so proud of, and it turned out to be this whole army of crayon angles, in these gold sort of football helmets, charging into Bethlehem while in the sky above them huge red and green letters copied from a Christmas carol book Bet couldn’t yet read proclaimed: “JOY TO THE WORLD! THE SAVIOR RESIGNS!”
It’s true, we all have different ideas about who Jesus is, but we all come here to this place as the body of Christ. I think it’s because we have heard his voice. We may not know everything about Jesus, may not know all that much about the Bible, and we may know much less about theology. But we do know Jesus. In some way or another – maybe not as clearly as we might like, but clearly enough for us to follow him – he has revealed himself to us. He has spoken. And we have heard his voice as the very voice of God.
So Jesus says in our Gospel, “I and the father are one.” In other words, when you have seen and heard Jesus, you have seen and heard as much of God as you ever hope to see and hear. And that’s why we are here. “My sheep know me,” says Jesus. The world may not know him. His critics and enemies may not know him. But by the grace of God (and it is by grace alone) we know him. It’s a miracle. And it’s a miracle that has happened to us!
That’s the good news behind this rather exasperating episode. The risen Christ has come out to us, out to our doubts and misgivings, our misunderstandings and unanswered questions and called us. And we have heard. And we have followed. Let all who have heard, and all who are following, let the church say, “Amen!”
May we pray?
Where are you Jesus Christ, when we look at our world? Where will we find you among the struggling people of the earth? And how will we name you in the midst of our fears and doubts? Look into our faces, O God. Raise us up in hope until our feet tread the mountains of faith. And warm our hearts until we burn with the fire of your determination.
Amen.
Mary Anne Biggs, Pastor
Nekoosa United
Nekoosa