Who are the Gentiles in your life? Take a moment and give that some
thought. Who are the people in your life
that are asking you to see Jesus? Now,
think of the Jesus to whom you are introducing them. Is it the Jesus described in the Bible, or is
the Jesus to whom you are introducing them one of your own creation? Hmmm.
I see some squirming. Good. I’ll take that as a sign that I was supposed
to be preaching on John’s Gospel this morning.
Ruth to tell, I was certain I needed to be
in John’s Gospel this week. My difficulty
was figuring our collective Gentiles here at Advent. I did not have any corporate illustrations to
share with you this morning, so it made me wonder if I was in the right passage
this week. I made it all the way until
Thursday before God started shaping my sermon a bit more toward us here at
Advent.
Thursday night I had just finished riding
the bike. I’d put in 12-15 miles and was
really looking forward to the hot tub. David
had finished a bit before me and was already soaking. I had just peeled off my sweaty clothes when
a young man came into the locker room.
He noticed me and then asked if I was that pastor guy that did human
trafficking stuff. I told him I like to
think I fight AGAINST human trafficking and that yes I am a pastor. So he asked, “Why is your God so mad?” I would like to claim shock or surprise, but
Karen had prepared me. A number of
people had been sharing a few Facebook memes that discussed the Atonement in
simplistic and dishonest ways. The memes
were claiming that God did not require Jesus to die for our sins, we did; that
the “god” of their belief was not the angry “god” of Christianity; and that the
“god” of the New Testament was distinct from the “god” of the Old
Testament. This young man had been in
some discussions with friends about God, and his questions came out of those
discussions.
Now, I will remind you I was hot, sweaty,
aching, and really looking forward to that hot tub, but I had a young adult
Hindu who was asking about God. So we
talked. I asked him to tell me what he “knew”
about God. Most of his knowledge came
from friends telling him about their own faith struggles or answers. He had read a small part of the Bible in a
college class on theology, but most of his “knowledge” of God came from the
opinions of those in his life. As he
shared with me what he’d heard of God, I started chuckling. He asked why I was laughing, and I told him I
would not worship that god either.
When spent the next fifteen minutes or so
in a serious, but skimming, discussion about God. We talked briefly about the idea of Atonement
and the certainty that love required it—God could not be loving and just and
righteous and all those other wonderful adjectives if there was no consequence
for sin. He’d never thought about
justice like that before. Then I reminded
him that Jesus was God; so God paid the price for our redemption knowing that
people would reject Him, that people would kind of accept Him but lead people
into error by mistake, and that people would pretend to accept Him and speak
His language and work against His purposes.
In a particularly inspired moment, we spoke of the hubris and temerity
involved in evaluating God. During the
course of that discussion thread, I asked him if he ever thought the pottery
criticizes the artist for taking them in muddy form and turning them into the shaped and hardened work of
art. He knew enough of the Bible to
understand that was a biblical image, that God shapes and molds humanity to His
glorious purposes. He’d never thought of
us, particularly his friends, as being like a finished piece of art that claims
the knowledge and perspective to know what was best for it.
We even chatted a few minutes about the
works righteousness aspect of his faith.
He believes that when he dies, he comes back to live another life. That process is repeated until he gets
everything right. As a young
twentysomething in a private conversation, he even shared he wondered whether
the cycle never ends. He’d asked for the
meaning of life, and I had shared—telling him I was being a tad simplistic, but
intentionally so—that life was the time of our decision-making. Do we choose God, or do we choose another
way? Do we trust the Potter, of do we
think we can remake ourselves even more gloriously? If the Gospel is true, if Jesus was raised
from the dead, we get a choice. Do we
choose wisely?
Now, I would love to stand here and tell
you we had a glorious baptism in the hot tub or pool at the Y Thursday night. In my mind, that would have been a great
ending. The young guy thanked me for
answering questions, for treating his questions the way he intended, for
telling him when some of the answers were really much longer than our time
would fully permit, and for giving him much to consider. Then, as he finished changing and was heading
out he said, “you know, if more people talked about God and Jesus the way you
do, I bet there’d be a lot more in the world.
Too bad there are so many assholes who speak about Jesus more
confidently than you.”
Now, I stopped him as he had picked up his
gym bag and was on the way out. First, I
told him, you need to understand I am an asshole, too. He laughed and doubted it. I told him if he spoke to people at my
church, to my friends on social media, to anybody that had known me for any
length of time, I was on the other side of sainthood. I even confessed that I would have rather
been soaking in the hot tub with my son than having such a deep theological
discussion in the locker room. He politely
said he doubted it, so I shared some of my thoughts about other encounters at
the Y. In particular, he thought I was
justified shaming the guy watching the lady’s breasts on the treadmill. So I shared what I thought was God’s
perspective on shame, and on that specific encounter. He’d never thought about God like that, that
God longs for everyone to choose Him, that God woos us all our life long, even
the ones who reject him outright—even men and women like Stephen Hawking. But I continued on, I told him that there are
lots of saintly Christians in the world, nearly all of whom are ignored by
those in power, by the press, and by those who listen only to loud voices. Look around those in your life who are
serving, truly serving others at some significant cost to themselves, either in
time or resources or prestige. Ask them
why they are doing the things they are doing.
My hope, my prayer for you, is
that your eyes will be opened and your ears unplugged, and you will see those
whose hearts have been transformed by God and that they, people you have known
for some length of time, will point you to the God who is seeking you.
Now, I share that story as a reminder that
we all have Gentiles in our lives. They just
are not as easy to define or identify as they were, perhaps, in the days of
Jesus’ ministry on earth and of the Apostles.
My Gentile this week happened to be a young adult Hindu who, like many
of the college youths raised in the Church, is beginning to decide for himself
what he thinks is true. Yours may be
someone with whom you golf, play bridge, or drink a martini. Your Gentile may be someone in your family,
someone in your social or professional club, or a co-worker. Heck, your Gentile may be someone whom you
serve in Christ’s name. We all have
Gentiles; it’s just a question of discerning who they are and doing our best to
point them toward Jesus. That’s part of
the madness behind the method of our Lenten program this year! We have been doing spiritual autobiographies
in some different ways—by the way and by way of commercial interruption, this
week we will look at how God shares His story of redemption and identify ways
in which He is using us in that story—to remind us of our experiences and our
stories. A couple Adventers have already
shared their excitement that they had done this Lenten program and been asked
to share the story of their faith. They
have shared with the Gentiles in their life their love of God for what He has
done in their life, even when they were more prodigal than saintly!
Who are the Gentiles in your life? Those of you on Facebook saw that I had lunch
with the now retired bishop of Ethiopia yesterday. In a prior life I had a difficult
relationship with Bishop Grant. Grant
taught exegesis at seminary. Under his
tutelage, I translated most of Mark and most of First Corinthians. I hated it at the time, though I now
appreciate the work he made us do—many of us have instructors who were rather
good-for-us task masters. That also
means that Grant was the professor who would not allow some well-planned hijinks
to come to fruition (yes, he’s the professor of Grape Ape and nymphos). Anyway, as we were talking about the passage,
I was reminded of a presentation by George Gallup. I have shared several times that George (Jr.
or III or whatever) was a Board member at school and quintessentially Anglican. In his conversations with us students, George
would discuss the data they were collecting at Gallup and our likely task if
the data was truly a trend.
One such group of Gentiles was only then beginning
to be understood. Gallup had asked
people about a decade prior to identify themselves in one of four categories:
Religious but not Spiritual, Spiritual but not Religious, both, and neither. Sometime in the late 80’s or early 90’s, when
this self-identification study began, people overwhelmingly identified
themselves as Religious but not Spiritual.
Let that sink in for a second.
Religious but not Spiritual.
People were coming to church; they just were not really interested in
growing in their relationship with God.
When George spoke to us, the future leaders in the church, his pollsters
were noticing a disturbing trend: the numbers were shifting! It was almost as if people were
self-identifying themselves more and more as Spiritual but not Religious. They wanted to think of themselves as good
people, basically on the side of God, they just were disinterested in the
offerings of organized religion. This,
George warned us, was the milieu into which we were being sent. He was looking forward to future studies, but
he wondered whether we should be surprised that children who were raised by
Religious but not Spiritual would produce future adults who were totally
disinterested in church or, at best, unable to see its value in a world that
was shrinking because of the internet.
Fast forward fifteen years or so. The numbers have completely flipped. How many of us know people who identify
themselves as Spiritual but not Religious?
How many of us, were we to self-reflect upon ourselves and discern our
behavior fifteen to thirty years ago, were parents or friends who fell into
that Religious but not Spiritual group and have produced Spiritual but not Religious
friends or children? Think back on this
place three or four decades ago. No
doubt some have left because our Lord called them home. How many, though, have drifted away though
they still live in the area? How many
still think of themselves and call themselves Adventers yet find themselves
anywhere but here most days of the year?
Maybe we used different language to identify ourselves, Country clubbish
to use one that was popular around here, is a good example. What is the value of church, of religion to
use the words of the study? Why do we
gather as we do, sacrificing time, sleep, the opportunity to do other
things? What makes this gathering important
to us?
How do we identify the Gentiles in our
life? Look at the passage. There are Greeks going up to worship at the
festival. Right away, John is telling us
that these Greeks already know God. Why
else would they have journeyed to Jerusalem?
Why else would they be going to worship?
So they ask Phillip, one of the Apostles, to see Jesus. We are not told why, by Phillip tells Andrew
and Andrew, we are told, tells Jesus.
How does Jesus answer Andrew and Phillip, and by extension, the Greeks? This is where that “which Jesus do you direct
others to” becomes really important.
Jesus begins to speak about the kind of death he was to die. He reminds his likely agrarian audience about
the nature of seeds. Unless the grain
falls to the earth and dies, it remains only a grain. But if it falls to the earth and dies, it
grows and bears much fruit. It makes
sense, right? Unless we plant seeds, there
is no fruit-bearing plant. Jesus’ death,
to extend the comparison, will result in plants that bear much fruit. Hopefully, you and I are numbered among those
plants!
Jesus goes on to teach those around him
that whoever serves Him must follow Him.
In modern language, we refer back to the idea that we will bear crosses
to His glory. We, you and I and all who
call themselves Christians are called to serve others, not Lord ourselves over
them. It is a strong testimony against
those “Christians in power,” those who have the bully pulpit and attention of
the media, that young men like the gentleman who grabbed me Wednesday, find the
idea of servanthood an anathema to modern Christianity. I wonder, were Billy Graham still alive to
read some of the articles regarding his life and work, how he would respond to
some of the headlines. Billy Graham: the
last great non-political evangelist.
Billy Graham: the last evangelist who crossed party lines. I’m certain he point the authors of such
articles to look for servants in their midst.
There are lots of servants crossing political party lines. There are innumerable Christians bearing
crosses to the glory of God; the press just is not interested in talking about
our brothers and sisters who work in prisons, who shelter the homeless, who,
like Courtney today and the folks at Second Harvest, feed those who
hunger. It’s not sexy work. It doesn’t cause people to click on an
article. And, truly, where is the glory
in such work? I mean, how could God ever
know that meaningless stuff is happening, let alone the people who are doing
it? He’s on the side of the rich and
powerful, right? I mean, He needs to
pick His tribe carefully and make sure the hoi polloi are not included, right?
Listening to the teachings and
pontifications of some “christian” pastors or their flock, sometimes all I can
do is offer up a prayer, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
I find myself snorting derisively, and sometimes more angrily, when a
pastor claims God does not want him flying commercial because his work is too
important to be bothered by people in an airport or on an airplane. I find myself wishing I had the power of Holy
Fire like my dwarf priest in Wow when some “pastor” claims he or she needs the
mansion to escape the trials and tribulations of the world each day, rather
than living among the flock he or she has been given by God to tend. I find myself enraged when some “pastor”
advises those in power that God accepts, encourages, or demands that, in His
name, we exclude others, we burden others, or we devalue others. And do not get me started on members of their
flocks! That’s when that total depravity
of which I warned my young Hindu friend really comes out. But it does so knowing that God is dishonored
every time we mislead someone. God is
besmirched each and every time you and I or others participate in the
dehumanization of others in His Name, exclude others in His Name, or think
ourselves more worthy of love and mercy and grace in His Name. And listening to the public voice and face of
Christianity, I am in wise surprised that many in our society are put off by
Christians. Were the only Jesus I knew
the one from television and newspapers and internet memes, what would my faith
be in?
If you are struggling bit today with how
much Jesus knew about His purpose, notice a couple important statements besides
the imagery. First, there is the
wonderful rhetorical question in verse 27.
Does Jesus want to die? No. Does He know it’s His purpose, His reason for
coming down from heaven?
Absolutely! Jesus teaches His
Apostles and us that it for the events of Holy Week and Good Friday that He has
come to this time! Better still, in
verse 32, Jesus hearkens us back to the story of the fiery serpent on a pole
that we read last week. When He is
lifted up, He will draw all people to Himself.
It may seem a crazy way to go about salvation to us. How can the death of Jesus atone for all my
sins, let alone yours and those of the rest of the world? To those not yet grafted into His vine, it
seems as crazy as looking at a snake on a pole that we might survive a snake bite!
One struggle which I bet many of us are
not having is Jesus’ response. Have you
ever noticed that Jesus does not tell the Greeks yes or no? Jesus neither agrees to meet with them nor
tells them to go away. Instead, He
launches into this teaching about His death, about His expectation of cross
bearing on the part of His disciples, and about His promise that those who
serve Him will, in turn, be glorified by the Father. Why?
Jesus is already instructing His disciples that we will be the ones who
point others to Him. We will be His
hands, His feet, His Body in the world. It
will be left to us to point others to Him through the work and ministry and
crosses He has given us to bear or to do.
You and I need to hear with His ears and see with His eyes. We are the ones who will be given
opportunities to give directions to Him.
To whom will we point them?
What does that Jesus to whom we are called
to point others look like? What does
that God whom Jesus calls Father teach us about Himself? So often, those in the world around us think
that we seek to call ourselves Christian because we want to hope that we will
be in heaven while they find themselves separated from Him for eternity. There’s a certain tribalism, a certain “us
against them” mentality that is behind the words and actions of those who
forget the Jesus described here and elsewhere in Scripture. In truth, God is drawing the world, everybody
we meet, to Himself through the work and person of Jesus Christ, His Son our
Lord. It is Jesus who incarnates kingdom
life in our midst. It is Jesus who
reminds us that we can love others as ourselves, that we can lay down our life
in the service of God-called service to others, certain in the knowledge that,
just as we share in His death by virtue of our baptism, we are promised a share
in His Resurrection in the life to come!
More amazingly, and in a point I probably
over hammered home with my young friend Thursday evening, we serve a God who
loves us, who delights in us, who wonderfully made each and every one of us and
all those whom we encounter. We do not
serve an angry or volcano god, as some would teach and preach. We do not serve a God who tries to trick us
into making bad choices or who willy nilly ignores the hurt or pain of
anyone. We don’t even serve a God who
makes us pass an exam to get in, apart from choosing to follow Him in this
life! We serve a God who delights in
those who seek Him, who is gracious to those who repent, and who, like the
Father of the Prodigal Son, longs to see each and every one of us choose
wisely. We serve a God who delights in
demonstrating strength through weakness, who has the power to call new life
from death, and who marvels us with His mercy and grace when we repent of our
evil. We serve a God who delights in
taking many tribes, many peoples, many cultures, and uniting them in His
Son! We serve a God who takes the
foolish idea of His Son dying on the Cross and turns it into saving wisdom! Is that the Jesus whom you serve? Is that the Jesus whom you call Lord? Is that the Jesus to whom you point
others? In the end, my brothers in
sisters, it is that Jesus who came not to condemn but to save, and it is that
Jesus whom the world, Gentiles and Christian alike, needs to meet through us. Pray that as we transition into the events of
Holy Week and Easter, and the Gentiles who may join us at that time, it is that
Jesus that we are bringing to those in the world around us!
In
His Peace,
Brian†