Perhaps the best way to understand the words of our gospel reading is to remind ourselves of the landscape of Judaism in Jesus’ day. We’ve talked before that Jews were not a monolithic block. There were different groups and divisions, a lot like different church denominations today. Two of these groups we encounter often in the gospels: the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Less often mentioned in the Bible are the Herodians and the Zealots. And then never mentioned in the Bible, but still of importance, were the Essenes.
It seems that subgroups and offshoots would form and dissolve too. Two such groups, at least as understood by Jews of the day were the followers of the Baptizer – John the Baptist. And the Nazarenes – what we would call the earliest Christians.
There appears to have been overlap between the followers of John and the followers of Jesus. In Acts 19 we see the overlap, and that may have continued even to the time of the writing of John’s gospel. Eventually John the Baptist’s disciples either began following Jesus or they disbanded. But at the time of Jesus there was competition and confusion between the two groups.
We have no records of John the Baptist apart from Christian scripture. Those records always present John as one who points away from himself and towards Jesus. Perhaps that is indeed all that John ever did. Or perhaps there was more. We don’t know. But what is clear is that the early Christian writers use John to show that Christianity is not just a new sect within Judaism, but a fundamentally different thing. They also use John as a way to get at the difficult truth that some people were accepting and embracing following Jesus and others simply were not. Both of those things are linked.
Christianity was, and is, a distinctly different belief system from other religions. The idea that a god would come to life in a human form, or even have some virgin birth as a human, was not unique to Christianity, or even new. Other religions of the time were making the same claims. The difference is that the God Christianity was revealing was one of absolutely selfless radical love. No limits. No boundaries. No qualifications. No one unworthy. And yet, at the same time, no one was good enough or righteous enough on their own to claim that they deserved God’s love.
If you’re a life-long Christian none of this is new. Its radicalness doesn’t strike you. But it was, and still is, quite a radical claim.
As John the Baptist is presented in John’s gospel he is pointing to this ultimateness of Jesus. John doesn’t do this because he is somehow a model of selflessness or humility. No, he does it because he has become aware of what God is up to. His followers should turn their attention to Jesus. John does not say that his testimony or his ministry is somehow lacking or second rate. But that his whole purpose has been to point to the ultimate thing God is doing.
John the Baptist uses the imagery of weddings, which in some ways are not all that different than our own. He sees Jesus as the groom. He, John the Baptist, is the best man; which is still an honor and highly important. The best man at a wedding is hand-picked by the groom as his best and most trustworthy associate. No one is higher. He is entrusted with all sorts of arrangements. John the Baptist considers this, even though a secondary role, to still be a great honor. It is more like the fulfillment of his life’s purpose.
That takes us to the second issue John the Baptist raises. Why do some accept Jesus as God’s son and that God’s nature is one of love, and others do not?
That question remains highly relevant to today. For of course, not too many decades ago you could assume that someone living in America was somehow connected to a church. Life, morality, rites of passage, and more all revolved around church beliefs. It is certainly not so today. As one of you recently noted, “Being a Christian in America has become a faux pas.”
As John the Baptist sees it, there’s more. It’s not a question of do you believe or don’t you believe. It’s a question about the very character of God.
You would think, wouldn’t you, that any message that God is radically loving would spread like wildfire. Who wouldn’t want a loving God? Right? So why do people not want to embrace it? Why turn away?
Perhaps here’s an example. Most of us own a car, or maybe multiple cars. We love cars. Cars let us go where we want to go, when we want to go, and the way we want to go. You don’t have to plan around a bus or train schedule. You don’t have to get an Uber ride or a call cab. Driving is freedom. It is self-determination. Despite the fact that cars cost huge amounts of money to buy, insure, and maintain, we’re willing to spend it. A car means you can live where you want to live. Though I know full well I am pointing a finger at myself as I say this, when you start to philosophize about it, a car is a very selfish thing indeed.
How would life be different if you had to depend upon some form of public transportation?
Is not truly trusting God a lot like living and depending upon public transportation? A car puts you in charge. Public transportation forces you to be in community and at the whims and needs of others. How safe do you feel if you truly put God in control of your life? How dangerous is the love of a God who was willing to die a shameful death for those who weren’t worthy of it?
If you want your life to be all about you, you’re going to struggle with a God who is so lavishly generous; even as God’s offer is truly liberating and life-fulfilling.
Why do people turn away from the church? Why has being a Christian become a faux pas? The answers are many. I don’t want to make too absolute a statement. But largely it is because people want to pursue their own path to self-fulfillment rather than trusting that God will do better.
It's the endless irony of faith. The more in this life that you try to horde and keep for yourself, the more you try to be in charge, the more you make it about you; the less of you that there is. And the more of a slave you become. St. Paul writes about that to the Corinthians, which we read earlier. Jesus said similar things. You will be a slave to one thing or another. Only God will bring about true fulfillment.
Last week we talked about being “born again” and also “born from above”. Those are not just promises for eternal life. Those are promises for today. God’s love would free you from all that enslaves you. But people don’t want to hear it. They want their source of fulfillment to be within themselves.
I don’t think that God through Jesus looks at us as bad children. And God does not challenge us to see if we will endure today in order to be rewarded in some promise of eventual eternal life. I think God looks at us, stretches out a hand, and says, “Come, join in my adventure. Have fun with me. I will fulfill you. I will make you whole. I won’t promise you false fulfillment from earthly things, but I will guarantee your spirit deep wholeness from my endless supply of love. You will be fully alive. Fully free. Fully yourself.”
Those are God’s offers. It is up to us to see them as the truth, and the world’s ways as lies. John the Baptist points to Jesus and the new truth about God that Jesus was revealing, inviting all to become followers of the Christ.
Monday, June 26, 2023
Wednesday, June 21, 2023
June 18, 2023 John 3:1-21
I brought a sailboat and a bicycle in with me today to help explain what is going on with the John 3 text that we have as our gospel. It is a particularly tricky text to deal with because it does not want us to come to a settled understanding of what it means. At the exact same time it wants to give us solid confidence in what God is up to and how God works.
Let’s start with what it is not. Many Christians will say they are “born again” Christians. That isn’t typical language in Lutheran churches. If anyone ever asks you are you born again, you say, “Yes, I was born again when I was baptized.” And they’ll reply that that doesn’t count as being born again. Being born again means some sort of conviction or conversion experience as an adult; a sort of proof of validity of faith and commitment.
I disagree with them, but I am not going to dismiss the concept as wrong or heretical. What is wrong, however, is that their idea of being born again is rooted in the story of Nicodemus that we read. And the root of that story is counter to their understanding of being born again.
That takes us to the bicycle. Nicodemus saw faith as being like riding a bike. When you’re riding a bicycle you are providing 100% of the energy needed to get you from Point A to Point B. I’m not talking about those new hybrid bikes which have a battery and a motor that help you along. They’re cool and all, but that’s not what I’m talking about!
You’re also producing 100% of the energy needed to get from Point A to Point B if you’re walking or running. But a bicycle is different in that it uses your body’s energy more efficiently.
Faith the way Nicodemus understood it was like a bike in that the root energy came from you; and your faith was like getting an efficiency advantage from God. It made it easier and better. But again, 100% of the energy originated with you. It was up to you. You had to create it. You were in control.
That leads to the very mechanical thinking Nicodemus has when he hears Jesus say he must be born again. It was still all about him. Those who call themselves “born again” are focusing on a personal conversion experience. And again, that is not necessarily wrong. It is just coming up short on what Jesus is getting at.
When Jesus says you must be born again, the Greek word used there is anoqen. That means both born again and born from above. It is not one or the other, but both. If you focus too much on being “born again” you are missing the born from above part. The born from above part is the uncontrolled part, the dynamic part. That takes us to the sailboat.
You may recognize this little boat as it’s the same one I’ve brought in before to talk about the work of the Holy Spirit. I think it will suit our slightly different purposes today.
When you are sailing 0% of the energy to move you from Point A to Point B comes from you. It comes from the wind. However, that does not mean you have no control. You are not limited to only going where the wind blows you and at what speed the wind blows you.
This little boat is very simple, but even so, an experienced sailor can use it to go wherever he or she wishes no matter which way the wind is blowing. Tacking and jibing maneuvers allow you to even get to a point exactly into the wind, although it is a circuitous path. The sails are harnessing the power of the wind that is out there. They do not control it. They do not make the energy. It is not like riding a bike. But it is cooperating with it, capturing it, using the energy to suit your needs. The sailor isn’t passive all. It takes skill. Strong winds take different techniques than light winds. A properly set sailboat goes faster than the wind pushing it.
And, while I am not a skilled enough sailor, I do know sailors who sail without needing to use a rudder. By the proper techniques with the main sail they can steer, go faster or slower, brake and stop, and even sail backwards. I’ve heard stories from hundreds of years ago that highly skilled crews in the American Navy could sail their ships with such agility, even going backwards sometimes, that the British navy struggled to target them with cannon fire.
And sailboats are by no means slow. If you’ve been following Ocean Race 2023 you know this year’s 32,000 mile round the world race is nearing its end. (The American team is in the lead by the way.) The ocean-going sailboats in the race are hitting around 40 mph with the right conditions.
Now let’s look at that as an example of faith being both born and again born from above. It’s not about you. It’s about the wind. Faith is not your creation. Faith is God’s energy being poured out. You do not control the wind. You do not control faith. The person who is “born again” acts as though they are now living in a new reality. Maybe so, but the new reality is not in their control.
God still gives you enormous freedom in how you want to capture the energy. Just like a sailor’s freedom for how to capture the wind. But the key thing is that the energy is not yours.
When you’re on a bicycle you can push yourself through whatever comes. It is all you. With sailing, there’s no pushing with your energy. You are 100% dependent upon that which you cannot control.
Jesus wants Nicodemus to realize that faith is not his to control or even to fully understand. But he is to realize that it is confidently there. Perhaps the breezes can be light at times, perhaps even for a long time, but it will return.
That takes us to where we will end, which if we have gotten this far by understanding we do not control or limit, then we are in a place to hear.
I think theologian Gail O’Day puts it pretty succinctly in the New Interpreter’s Bible:
“To believe in Jesus is to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and that God loved the world so much that God have the Son as a gift. The God revealed in Jesus is a God whose love knows no bounds and who asks only that one receive the gift. If one receives the gift, one receives eternal life, because one’s life is reshaped and redefined by the love of God in Jesus. The words about judgment with which the text concludes underscore the seriousness of God’s offer.” (New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume 9, Pg. 555)
Such is the nature of God’s love that resists all limits and all boundaries. Accept it and go for a ride. Enjoy the adventure. It’ll still be hard work, but the energy of life will all be coming from God.
Let’s start with what it is not. Many Christians will say they are “born again” Christians. That isn’t typical language in Lutheran churches. If anyone ever asks you are you born again, you say, “Yes, I was born again when I was baptized.” And they’ll reply that that doesn’t count as being born again. Being born again means some sort of conviction or conversion experience as an adult; a sort of proof of validity of faith and commitment.
I disagree with them, but I am not going to dismiss the concept as wrong or heretical. What is wrong, however, is that their idea of being born again is rooted in the story of Nicodemus that we read. And the root of that story is counter to their understanding of being born again.
That takes us to the bicycle. Nicodemus saw faith as being like riding a bike. When you’re riding a bicycle you are providing 100% of the energy needed to get you from Point A to Point B. I’m not talking about those new hybrid bikes which have a battery and a motor that help you along. They’re cool and all, but that’s not what I’m talking about!
You’re also producing 100% of the energy needed to get from Point A to Point B if you’re walking or running. But a bicycle is different in that it uses your body’s energy more efficiently.
Faith the way Nicodemus understood it was like a bike in that the root energy came from you; and your faith was like getting an efficiency advantage from God. It made it easier and better. But again, 100% of the energy originated with you. It was up to you. You had to create it. You were in control.
That leads to the very mechanical thinking Nicodemus has when he hears Jesus say he must be born again. It was still all about him. Those who call themselves “born again” are focusing on a personal conversion experience. And again, that is not necessarily wrong. It is just coming up short on what Jesus is getting at.
When Jesus says you must be born again, the Greek word used there is anoqen. That means both born again and born from above. It is not one or the other, but both. If you focus too much on being “born again” you are missing the born from above part. The born from above part is the uncontrolled part, the dynamic part. That takes us to the sailboat.
You may recognize this little boat as it’s the same one I’ve brought in before to talk about the work of the Holy Spirit. I think it will suit our slightly different purposes today.
When you are sailing 0% of the energy to move you from Point A to Point B comes from you. It comes from the wind. However, that does not mean you have no control. You are not limited to only going where the wind blows you and at what speed the wind blows you.
This little boat is very simple, but even so, an experienced sailor can use it to go wherever he or she wishes no matter which way the wind is blowing. Tacking and jibing maneuvers allow you to even get to a point exactly into the wind, although it is a circuitous path. The sails are harnessing the power of the wind that is out there. They do not control it. They do not make the energy. It is not like riding a bike. But it is cooperating with it, capturing it, using the energy to suit your needs. The sailor isn’t passive all. It takes skill. Strong winds take different techniques than light winds. A properly set sailboat goes faster than the wind pushing it.
And, while I am not a skilled enough sailor, I do know sailors who sail without needing to use a rudder. By the proper techniques with the main sail they can steer, go faster or slower, brake and stop, and even sail backwards. I’ve heard stories from hundreds of years ago that highly skilled crews in the American Navy could sail their ships with such agility, even going backwards sometimes, that the British navy struggled to target them with cannon fire.
And sailboats are by no means slow. If you’ve been following Ocean Race 2023 you know this year’s 32,000 mile round the world race is nearing its end. (The American team is in the lead by the way.) The ocean-going sailboats in the race are hitting around 40 mph with the right conditions.
Now let’s look at that as an example of faith being both born and again born from above. It’s not about you. It’s about the wind. Faith is not your creation. Faith is God’s energy being poured out. You do not control the wind. You do not control faith. The person who is “born again” acts as though they are now living in a new reality. Maybe so, but the new reality is not in their control.
God still gives you enormous freedom in how you want to capture the energy. Just like a sailor’s freedom for how to capture the wind. But the key thing is that the energy is not yours.
When you’re on a bicycle you can push yourself through whatever comes. It is all you. With sailing, there’s no pushing with your energy. You are 100% dependent upon that which you cannot control.
Jesus wants Nicodemus to realize that faith is not his to control or even to fully understand. But he is to realize that it is confidently there. Perhaps the breezes can be light at times, perhaps even for a long time, but it will return.
That takes us to where we will end, which if we have gotten this far by understanding we do not control or limit, then we are in a place to hear.
I think theologian Gail O’Day puts it pretty succinctly in the New Interpreter’s Bible:
“To believe in Jesus is to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and that God loved the world so much that God have the Son as a gift. The God revealed in Jesus is a God whose love knows no bounds and who asks only that one receive the gift. If one receives the gift, one receives eternal life, because one’s life is reshaped and redefined by the love of God in Jesus. The words about judgment with which the text concludes underscore the seriousness of God’s offer.” (New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume 9, Pg. 555)
Such is the nature of God’s love that resists all limits and all boundaries. Accept it and go for a ride. Enjoy the adventure. It’ll still be hard work, but the energy of life will all be coming from God.
Tuesday, June 13, 2023
June 11, 2023 John 2
Jesus turns water into wine. Then Jesus goes and wrecks things in the temple. What are we to make of this? If you were here last week you may remember me saying that John’s gospel was all about answering the question, “Who is Jesus?” Well, who is this Jesus who does these things?
There are loads of interpretations about both of these stories, all of them attempts to tame them. But neither can be tamed. And they are not supposed to. I suspect the author intends them to have a certain shock value, here while we’re still near the beginning of the gospel, which pulls the rug out from lots of what we assume about God.
Take the story of Jesus turning water into wine. Now this is one that makes every tea totaling church nervous. How can God be making intoxicating beverages? And not just a little bit – a whole lot. You don’t have to have gone too far in math to figure out that if there are six stone jars, each holding 20 to 30 gallons, that adds up to 120-180 gallons of wine! What kind of a wedding reception is this!?!
I’ve heard it interpreted that it would be have been shameful for the families giving the wedding to run out of wine. Thus, Jesus saves them from public embarrassment. But there’s nothing in the text to suggest that at all.
The text just says that the wedding had run out of wine. Normally at a party when the alcohol runs out that is a sign that no more alcohol should be consumed. The guests are probably at, if not past, the point of intoxication.
When Jesus’ mother points out to him that they’ve run out of wine you’d expect Jesus to say something to her like, “Well, they’ve had enough. Running out will naturally limit them from going to much further. That’s a very practical and realistic response to the situation. He does at least point out to her, “…what concern is that to you and to me?”
But she, exercising a mother’s prerogative, completely ignores him. She just tells the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Talk about a mother manipulating her child!
We could speculate on all sorts of dynamics about what Jesus means and what he really intends with his action, but the text does not give us answers to them. All we’re given is that Jesus co-ops the use of six stone jars, special stone jars meant to be reserved to hold water for purification rites, and basically turns them into wine vats.
A party, with the alcohol gone; meaning everyone has had enough already, and God brings on an extra 120-180 gallons more of intoxicant!
This text, when left to speak without an interpretive overlay to tame it, is scandalous! It is irresponsible in the extreme. How can God act this way? Why would God encourage and enable inebriation that is beyond all sense?
The quick answer before we go on to the next scene: don’t be too quick to think you can understand God’s ways. And, God has a sense of humor! What if God is thinking, “They’re going to have fun with this one!” God can do delightful things purely for the delight of it. We’ll come back to all of this after we get the rug yanked out from under us again.
Jesus heads to Jerusalem for the Passover holidays. It is important to note that the other three gospels record Jesus causing a ruckus in the temple right before his arrest and execution. In fact, that’s the event that pushes the religious leaders too far and they decide he has to be gotten rid of. In John’s gospel it is placed at the beginning of Jesus public ministry. Biblical experts that I know say that from a historical perspective it is misplaced. It quite certainly happened at the end of Jesus’ ministry. But John has placed this event at the beginning as another undermining of our assumptions about Jesus.
You may have heard this scene called Jesus’ “cleansing” of the temple. The headings in most Bibles call it that. But that is based on a number of interpretive assumptions. It assumes that the temple was somehow “corrupt” or dirty in the first place. That idea comes from the version of these scene in Matthew, Mark and Luke. There Jesus quotes from Jeremiah and says, “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations. But you have made it a den of robbers.” But when Jeremiah calls it a den of robbers he is not talking about greed and corruption. He is talking about the hypocrisy of the religious leaders.
Here in John’s gospel Jesus appears to quote from Zechariah 14. That’s the, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace,” quote. In Zechariah it is also not a statement about corruption. It is a statement that when the Lord fully comes into the temple there will no longer be a need for merchants and traders there.
Remember, none of this happens within the temple itself. It all happens within the vast courtyards that surround the temple. They had been built to accommodate the commerce needed to support the major holidays. You’ll remember me saying before that if you were a pilgrim heading to Jerusalem for Passover or a holiday, and you wanted to make a sacrifice to God in the temple, it wasn’t very practical for you to travel with an animal to sacrifice. If you were a farmer maybe you’d sell one of your sheep. You’d pocket the money and head to Jerusalem. There you’d buy another sheep in the temple for sacrifice. And the good thing was the sheep for sale in the temple courtyards were sheep that were considered appropriate for sacrifice. Not all sheep made that grade.
Jesus does not cleanse the temple. He shuts down the temple as the place for right relationship with God. In our passage Jesus says, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”
Of course, in what we’ll discover to by typical of John’s comedy, the Jews take him literally. They say, “This temple has been under construction for 46 years, and will you raise it up in three days?” Our author clarifies it immediately for us and says, “But he was speaking of the temple of his body.”
The ”temple of his body” is important. Ancient Judaism was a religion of place. The temple was believed to be the house of God. It was the center of faith, worship, and sacrifice. It was the holiest place on earth. Christianity is not a religion of place. It is a religion of relationships based on what God revealed about his nature through Jesus.
But what is being revealed about God through this abundance of wine and violent actions in the temple? Is God crazy, wild, violent, and irresponsible? Remember, we’re in chapter 2. I think the author puts these scenes here to challenge our reverent and domesticated assumptions about God. He does that to open our eyes to see that God will not be so confined. He has to break our old models in order for us to be open to new ones.
It is very easy for us to allow habits, traditions, and social expectations to become what we think God wants from us. Our Christian faith is incredibly flexible. We forget that place and time are not important to us.
Perhaps the greatest current example is kids’ sports. In this area it feels like kids’ sports rule the calendar and the community. They take priority over all other things. Parents run ragged knowing that to miss a practice or a game may cost their child the ability to stay on the team.
Churches become enraged that Sunday mornings have become prime time for youth sports. I understand the anger too. But we do need to keep it in perspective. While we can question the wisdom of any society that gives such priority to something that has so little provable value in terms of social development for children, it is not a faith issue. While it is long standing Christian tradition to worship on a Sunday morning, it is not a divine decree. Any place and any time can work. When churches dig in their heals and go into battle mode they have lost sight of things. This is a big and complex issue. There are many things at play, and it is far more than time. But I use it as an example of how deeply we can allow faith practices to become an end unto themselves.
As John’s gospel opens with untamable texts we do well to think critically about all of our faith expressions and our assumptions about God. We inadvertently add a lot that isn’t there.
It can be challenging, but we have to let God be God. When we can release our fears and realize that God truly is in control then we can enjoy and be amazed at what God is up to. Don’t be surprised when God comes to you in ways you never expected!
There are loads of interpretations about both of these stories, all of them attempts to tame them. But neither can be tamed. And they are not supposed to. I suspect the author intends them to have a certain shock value, here while we’re still near the beginning of the gospel, which pulls the rug out from lots of what we assume about God.
Take the story of Jesus turning water into wine. Now this is one that makes every tea totaling church nervous. How can God be making intoxicating beverages? And not just a little bit – a whole lot. You don’t have to have gone too far in math to figure out that if there are six stone jars, each holding 20 to 30 gallons, that adds up to 120-180 gallons of wine! What kind of a wedding reception is this!?!
I’ve heard it interpreted that it would be have been shameful for the families giving the wedding to run out of wine. Thus, Jesus saves them from public embarrassment. But there’s nothing in the text to suggest that at all.
The text just says that the wedding had run out of wine. Normally at a party when the alcohol runs out that is a sign that no more alcohol should be consumed. The guests are probably at, if not past, the point of intoxication.
When Jesus’ mother points out to him that they’ve run out of wine you’d expect Jesus to say something to her like, “Well, they’ve had enough. Running out will naturally limit them from going to much further. That’s a very practical and realistic response to the situation. He does at least point out to her, “…what concern is that to you and to me?”
But she, exercising a mother’s prerogative, completely ignores him. She just tells the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Talk about a mother manipulating her child!
We could speculate on all sorts of dynamics about what Jesus means and what he really intends with his action, but the text does not give us answers to them. All we’re given is that Jesus co-ops the use of six stone jars, special stone jars meant to be reserved to hold water for purification rites, and basically turns them into wine vats.
A party, with the alcohol gone; meaning everyone has had enough already, and God brings on an extra 120-180 gallons more of intoxicant!
This text, when left to speak without an interpretive overlay to tame it, is scandalous! It is irresponsible in the extreme. How can God act this way? Why would God encourage and enable inebriation that is beyond all sense?
The quick answer before we go on to the next scene: don’t be too quick to think you can understand God’s ways. And, God has a sense of humor! What if God is thinking, “They’re going to have fun with this one!” God can do delightful things purely for the delight of it. We’ll come back to all of this after we get the rug yanked out from under us again.
Jesus heads to Jerusalem for the Passover holidays. It is important to note that the other three gospels record Jesus causing a ruckus in the temple right before his arrest and execution. In fact, that’s the event that pushes the religious leaders too far and they decide he has to be gotten rid of. In John’s gospel it is placed at the beginning of Jesus public ministry. Biblical experts that I know say that from a historical perspective it is misplaced. It quite certainly happened at the end of Jesus’ ministry. But John has placed this event at the beginning as another undermining of our assumptions about Jesus.
You may have heard this scene called Jesus’ “cleansing” of the temple. The headings in most Bibles call it that. But that is based on a number of interpretive assumptions. It assumes that the temple was somehow “corrupt” or dirty in the first place. That idea comes from the version of these scene in Matthew, Mark and Luke. There Jesus quotes from Jeremiah and says, “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations. But you have made it a den of robbers.” But when Jeremiah calls it a den of robbers he is not talking about greed and corruption. He is talking about the hypocrisy of the religious leaders.
Here in John’s gospel Jesus appears to quote from Zechariah 14. That’s the, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace,” quote. In Zechariah it is also not a statement about corruption. It is a statement that when the Lord fully comes into the temple there will no longer be a need for merchants and traders there.
Remember, none of this happens within the temple itself. It all happens within the vast courtyards that surround the temple. They had been built to accommodate the commerce needed to support the major holidays. You’ll remember me saying before that if you were a pilgrim heading to Jerusalem for Passover or a holiday, and you wanted to make a sacrifice to God in the temple, it wasn’t very practical for you to travel with an animal to sacrifice. If you were a farmer maybe you’d sell one of your sheep. You’d pocket the money and head to Jerusalem. There you’d buy another sheep in the temple for sacrifice. And the good thing was the sheep for sale in the temple courtyards were sheep that were considered appropriate for sacrifice. Not all sheep made that grade.
Jesus does not cleanse the temple. He shuts down the temple as the place for right relationship with God. In our passage Jesus says, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”
Of course, in what we’ll discover to by typical of John’s comedy, the Jews take him literally. They say, “This temple has been under construction for 46 years, and will you raise it up in three days?” Our author clarifies it immediately for us and says, “But he was speaking of the temple of his body.”
The ”temple of his body” is important. Ancient Judaism was a religion of place. The temple was believed to be the house of God. It was the center of faith, worship, and sacrifice. It was the holiest place on earth. Christianity is not a religion of place. It is a religion of relationships based on what God revealed about his nature through Jesus.
But what is being revealed about God through this abundance of wine and violent actions in the temple? Is God crazy, wild, violent, and irresponsible? Remember, we’re in chapter 2. I think the author puts these scenes here to challenge our reverent and domesticated assumptions about God. He does that to open our eyes to see that God will not be so confined. He has to break our old models in order for us to be open to new ones.
It is very easy for us to allow habits, traditions, and social expectations to become what we think God wants from us. Our Christian faith is incredibly flexible. We forget that place and time are not important to us.
Perhaps the greatest current example is kids’ sports. In this area it feels like kids’ sports rule the calendar and the community. They take priority over all other things. Parents run ragged knowing that to miss a practice or a game may cost their child the ability to stay on the team.
Churches become enraged that Sunday mornings have become prime time for youth sports. I understand the anger too. But we do need to keep it in perspective. While we can question the wisdom of any society that gives such priority to something that has so little provable value in terms of social development for children, it is not a faith issue. While it is long standing Christian tradition to worship on a Sunday morning, it is not a divine decree. Any place and any time can work. When churches dig in their heals and go into battle mode they have lost sight of things. This is a big and complex issue. There are many things at play, and it is far more than time. But I use it as an example of how deeply we can allow faith practices to become an end unto themselves.
As John’s gospel opens with untamable texts we do well to think critically about all of our faith expressions and our assumptions about God. We inadvertently add a lot that isn’t there.
It can be challenging, but we have to let God be God. When we can release our fears and realize that God truly is in control then we can enjoy and be amazed at what God is up to. Don’t be surprised when God comes to you in ways you never expected!
Monday, June 5, 2023
June 4, 2023 John 1
We’re used to hearing the prologue of John’s gospel at Christmas time. That’s John 1:1-18. It fits well for that, giving theological weight to the birth of Jesus. But when we only ever use it that way we miss its bigger purpose in John.
John’s gospel does not read like the other three: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. It’s not as much a story as it is a collection of short stories of people encountering Jesus. John’s main purpose in writing the gospel is to answer the question, “Who is Jesus?”
But before we can get to that answer we have to start somewhere else. This somewhere else is something John knew was essential to understanding who Jesus is.
Let’s remind ourselves that the Bible’s authors used more complex and sophisticated writing styles than we use today. They used patterns and formulas in their writing. They deliberately created contrasts and contradictions in what they wrote. They were not aiming to teach limited truths, but rather open doors to multiple levels of understanding. They knew that their writings could be understood at a simple level by children and also speak in a sophisticated way to highly educated adults. Their writings were very carefully crafted and very thoughtful. Never approach an ancient text thinking it is a product of the ignorant past. While they didn’t have the scientific techniques and technologies of today, they were our equals or superiors when it comes to understanding and communicating complex ideas. John’s gospel, like the other gospels, easily holds its own in the world of complex literature.
So, keeping that in mind, when it comes to answering who is Jesus, John gives us eight answers in Chapter 1. They are:
Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world
Son of God
Rabbi
Messiah
Him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote
Son of Joseph from Nazareth
King of Israel
Son of Man
There are more to come in the chapters that follow. But that is not actually where John wants to begin. John knows he cannot answer directly for you who Jesus is. Or perhaps I should say, John knows that before we can understand who Jesus is, we have to understand who we are.
Give your mind time to ponder that at some point. Who is God? Who is Jesus? Perhaps it is best to first ask, “Who am I?” But, tempting as it may be to ponder that now, I invite you to do that at another time. For now I want to keep your attention on a dynamic that John is creating. You see, for John, knowing who you are and knowing who Jesus is, is an ongoing dialog and development. There’s no point in your life where you truly and fully know who you are – at least not in a sense where you have become a static and unchanging being. Each new day brings something different. It brings a new part of yourself into being. It is certainly going to be informed by yesterday. And it will be guided by plans for tomorrow, but it is still a learning and growing process.
So, who is Jesus?
Who are you?
That’s an ever-changing dynamic that is a way of life. Let’s call it an adventure.
Notice what happens in Johns 1. Each person we meet sees something different in Jesus and bears witness in his own way. In Chapter 1 we met John the Baptist, Andrew, Simon, Philip, and Nathanael. Each one comes to Jesus with differing expectations and needs – one needed a teacher, another the Messiah, another the fulfillment of scripture – and each of these needs was met.
As we read further into John’s gospel in the weeks to come we will encounter more and more people. The way we’re going to read it is to look at each encounter on its own each week, or perhaps a couple encounters if they’re meant to be a contrast. That’s how John wants his gospel to be read and interpreted. Each person will come to Jesus with their own history, their own understanding, and their own needs. And each one will discover something different about Jesus. This goes all the way to Pontus Pilate when Jesus is on trial!
As the gospel progresses the list of answers to who Jesus is will be replaced, transformed, expanded, or redefined by Jesus’ words and actions; and ultimately by his death and resurrection.
From a literary perspective, John’s gospel is a brilliant way to learn about Jesus. From a theological perspective, John’s gospel gets at the truth that who Jesus is, and more broadly who God is, is not someone that is confined to definite and consistent limits.
Commentator Gail O’Day notes this, “The rich variety of testimonies in chapter 1 is both cautionary and celebratory. It cautions the reader not to limit Jesus to preconceived categories and expectations but to keep one’s eyes open for a surprising revelation of God.” (New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume 9, Page 533)
Indeed, at no point in our lives can we say that we fully “know” Jesus, or know all there is to know about him. And, while there are certainly things that Jesus is not, it is wrong to confine him to what we think he has to be. Different people are going to have different experiences. Jesus meets you where you are, wherever you are.
That is a key part to John’s gospel, and of deep importance to him. Among the most important things John wants you to know about Jesus is that Jesus meets you where you are, wherever you are; in whatever state you are in. Jesus isn’t called this in Chapter 1, or anywhere specifically, but he is the “abiding one”.
One of John’s favorite words is “abide” when referring to Jesus. It occurs 4 times in Chapter 1. 34 times in John’s gospel. 22 times in the letters attributed to John. When you consider “abide” occurs 110 times in the entire New Testament you realize that over half of them are in John.
Happy with God? Jesus is the abiding with you.
Mad at God? Jesus is the abiding with you.
Living a clean wholesome life? Jesus is abiding with you.
Living in shame and filth feeling unfit to be considered a human being? Living in the deepest and darkest of depressions? Jesus is abiding with you; whether you can feel him or not.
Believing deeply in God? Jesus is abiding with you.
Not believing in God completely and totally; the strongest, staunchest atheist that ever lived? Jesus is still the abiding one.
We’re going to encounter just about all of that in John’s gospel in the weeks ahead. Jesus is there always, solidly, strongly, securely, in whatever way and place people are.
Let’s note one more thing about John 1. This is a Lutheran Church and we throw the word “grace” around quite a bit. Grace shows up lots of times in Paul’s writings. It shows up rarely in the gospels. It never shows up in Matthew or Mark. It shows up in Luke’s gospel eight times, I believe. And it shows up in John’s gospel only four times; all of them in Chapter 1. You probably know verse 16 particularly well, “From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” Grace means unmerited, or unearned favor.
While grace may only be used four times at the beginning of John’s gospel the rest of the gospel is a witness to it. Lots of people encounter Jesus. None of them has any claim to his presence or can say they deserve his presence. But Jesus is willing to give favor to them all; although not all accept it.
We journey through John’s gospel this summer and encounter many people as they encounter Jesus. May we relate to them and in so doing also relate to our abiding Lord.
John’s gospel does not read like the other three: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. It’s not as much a story as it is a collection of short stories of people encountering Jesus. John’s main purpose in writing the gospel is to answer the question, “Who is Jesus?”
But before we can get to that answer we have to start somewhere else. This somewhere else is something John knew was essential to understanding who Jesus is.
Let’s remind ourselves that the Bible’s authors used more complex and sophisticated writing styles than we use today. They used patterns and formulas in their writing. They deliberately created contrasts and contradictions in what they wrote. They were not aiming to teach limited truths, but rather open doors to multiple levels of understanding. They knew that their writings could be understood at a simple level by children and also speak in a sophisticated way to highly educated adults. Their writings were very carefully crafted and very thoughtful. Never approach an ancient text thinking it is a product of the ignorant past. While they didn’t have the scientific techniques and technologies of today, they were our equals or superiors when it comes to understanding and communicating complex ideas. John’s gospel, like the other gospels, easily holds its own in the world of complex literature.
So, keeping that in mind, when it comes to answering who is Jesus, John gives us eight answers in Chapter 1. They are:
Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world
Son of God
Rabbi
Messiah
Him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote
Son of Joseph from Nazareth
King of Israel
Son of Man
There are more to come in the chapters that follow. But that is not actually where John wants to begin. John knows he cannot answer directly for you who Jesus is. Or perhaps I should say, John knows that before we can understand who Jesus is, we have to understand who we are.
Give your mind time to ponder that at some point. Who is God? Who is Jesus? Perhaps it is best to first ask, “Who am I?” But, tempting as it may be to ponder that now, I invite you to do that at another time. For now I want to keep your attention on a dynamic that John is creating. You see, for John, knowing who you are and knowing who Jesus is, is an ongoing dialog and development. There’s no point in your life where you truly and fully know who you are – at least not in a sense where you have become a static and unchanging being. Each new day brings something different. It brings a new part of yourself into being. It is certainly going to be informed by yesterday. And it will be guided by plans for tomorrow, but it is still a learning and growing process.
So, who is Jesus?
Who are you?
That’s an ever-changing dynamic that is a way of life. Let’s call it an adventure.
Notice what happens in Johns 1. Each person we meet sees something different in Jesus and bears witness in his own way. In Chapter 1 we met John the Baptist, Andrew, Simon, Philip, and Nathanael. Each one comes to Jesus with differing expectations and needs – one needed a teacher, another the Messiah, another the fulfillment of scripture – and each of these needs was met.
As we read further into John’s gospel in the weeks to come we will encounter more and more people. The way we’re going to read it is to look at each encounter on its own each week, or perhaps a couple encounters if they’re meant to be a contrast. That’s how John wants his gospel to be read and interpreted. Each person will come to Jesus with their own history, their own understanding, and their own needs. And each one will discover something different about Jesus. This goes all the way to Pontus Pilate when Jesus is on trial!
As the gospel progresses the list of answers to who Jesus is will be replaced, transformed, expanded, or redefined by Jesus’ words and actions; and ultimately by his death and resurrection.
From a literary perspective, John’s gospel is a brilliant way to learn about Jesus. From a theological perspective, John’s gospel gets at the truth that who Jesus is, and more broadly who God is, is not someone that is confined to definite and consistent limits.
Commentator Gail O’Day notes this, “The rich variety of testimonies in chapter 1 is both cautionary and celebratory. It cautions the reader not to limit Jesus to preconceived categories and expectations but to keep one’s eyes open for a surprising revelation of God.” (New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume 9, Page 533)
Indeed, at no point in our lives can we say that we fully “know” Jesus, or know all there is to know about him. And, while there are certainly things that Jesus is not, it is wrong to confine him to what we think he has to be. Different people are going to have different experiences. Jesus meets you where you are, wherever you are.
That is a key part to John’s gospel, and of deep importance to him. Among the most important things John wants you to know about Jesus is that Jesus meets you where you are, wherever you are; in whatever state you are in. Jesus isn’t called this in Chapter 1, or anywhere specifically, but he is the “abiding one”.
One of John’s favorite words is “abide” when referring to Jesus. It occurs 4 times in Chapter 1. 34 times in John’s gospel. 22 times in the letters attributed to John. When you consider “abide” occurs 110 times in the entire New Testament you realize that over half of them are in John.
Happy with God? Jesus is the abiding with you.
Mad at God? Jesus is the abiding with you.
Living a clean wholesome life? Jesus is abiding with you.
Living in shame and filth feeling unfit to be considered a human being? Living in the deepest and darkest of depressions? Jesus is abiding with you; whether you can feel him or not.
Believing deeply in God? Jesus is abiding with you.
Not believing in God completely and totally; the strongest, staunchest atheist that ever lived? Jesus is still the abiding one.
We’re going to encounter just about all of that in John’s gospel in the weeks ahead. Jesus is there always, solidly, strongly, securely, in whatever way and place people are.
Let’s note one more thing about John 1. This is a Lutheran Church and we throw the word “grace” around quite a bit. Grace shows up lots of times in Paul’s writings. It shows up rarely in the gospels. It never shows up in Matthew or Mark. It shows up in Luke’s gospel eight times, I believe. And it shows up in John’s gospel only four times; all of them in Chapter 1. You probably know verse 16 particularly well, “From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” Grace means unmerited, or unearned favor.
While grace may only be used four times at the beginning of John’s gospel the rest of the gospel is a witness to it. Lots of people encounter Jesus. None of them has any claim to his presence or can say they deserve his presence. But Jesus is willing to give favor to them all; although not all accept it.
We journey through John’s gospel this summer and encounter many people as they encounter Jesus. May we relate to them and in so doing also relate to our abiding Lord.
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