Invitational Christians

 

John 1:29-42

                ²⁹The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! ³⁰This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ³¹I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” ³²And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. ³³I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ ³⁴And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”

           ³⁵The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, ³⁶and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!”  ³⁷The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. ³⁸When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?”

           They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” ³⁹He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. ⁴⁰One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. ⁴¹He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). ⁴²He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

 

           Epiphany is not a season.  Technically.

           What we sometimes call the “season of Epiphany” is actually part of Ordinary Time.  Don’t worry about using too many brain cells to remember that, because it is mostly important to the people who draw those church year calendars with all the colors on them, and to altar guilds, which in our church means Valorie Bratcher, who have to decide what color paraments to put out.

           Green.

           Ordinary Time.  The time between Epiphany and Lent is ordinary.

           Except that it is not.  The lessons for this “ordinary” time are quite clearly meant to expound upon a set of themes that are clearly tied to Epiphany.  Both the event and the word.

           What’s an epiphany?

           It’s a revelation.  A realization.  A manifestation.  The prayer of the day for Epiphany begins, “O God, on this day you revealed your Son to the nations by the leading of a star.”

           This season that isn’t a season is all about how Jesus is revealed, and what we are called to do with that revelation. 

           Which means we are going to have some John.  John’s gospel is the Gospel of Signs.  The Gospel of Revelations.  The book called “Revelation” is patterned after this gospel. 

           And John lets us know from Chapter One.  “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

           Hint:  “Word” is a sign for Jesus.

           “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.  John testified to him and cried out, ‘This was he of whom I said, “He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.”’”

           John testified.  If you read Chapter One carefully, and we’ve got a pretty good chunk of it this morning, if you read the narrative part of Chapter One—the part after the lengthy prologue about Jesus the Word--you will notice a couple of things:

1.  John does almost all of the talking.

2.  All of his talking is about Jesus.  When he speaks of himself, it is to differentiate between him and Jesus.  John baptized with water.  Jesus baptizes with the Holy Spirit.

           John was born first, but Jesus “was before” him, so he ranks first.

           John saw the Spirit descend, and it landed on Jesus.

           John is called Baptizer or Baptist in the other Gospels, but not in the one which shares his name.  In this gospel he might more rightly be known as John the Witness, or John the Revealer.  Because he is there to testify to Jesus, in a Gospel which is all about Jesus being revealed.

           So it’s good that we have this gospel, and good that it creeps into the lectionary every so often, even to my chagrin, because as I have told many of you, it is not the easiest to preach, because it’s full of statements like “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.”

           We need the witness of this John the Witness.  We need the reminder that the task of the disciple, the task of the one lucky enough to know Jesus, is to testify to who he is and what he has done.

           Each of us who is not Jesus is called to testify to Jesus.  John made that the centerpoint of his testimony:  “Hey, I’m not Jesus.  But let me tell you about him.” 

           Testimony seems so scary, because we have learned to make it about us.  So then we are afraid to tell, because we make it all about us.  My mentor and coach Dave Daubert wrote a nice little book in which he suggests that we would all be more invitational if we just got over three fears:

           --Fear of rejection

           --Fear of being perceived a fanatic

           --Fear of harming the relationship we have with the person we’re inviting

           --Fear of appearing foolish or ignorant

Who are all those fears about?  Us.  None of those fears is about Jesus.  We aren’t afraid of testimony because we think the story is bad, are we?  The story is good.  Good news!  The story is amazing. 

           God so loved the world that God came in the flesh to be with us.  Gospel according to John.  Chapter Three.

           That’s an awesome story.  We should be telling it more.  We should be testifying to God’s love and to the teachings of Jesus Christ, which could turn this world around.

           What if we tried to make testimony part of the conversations we have every day?

           What if we really believed that telling the story of Jesus and what he has meant to our lives…what if we truly believed that it would make a difference?  That it could change the world.

           John believed that.  John believed it and he spent his life pointing to Jesus and connecting people to Jesus, and changing their lives.  Changing the world around him through the story of Jesus.

           He is a good role model for people who aren’t Jesus.  Like us.

           Those role models are important.  It’s important to find them and to observe how their testimony changes lives and changes the world.

           The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  There’s one.  Dr. King’s work was grounded in his testimony to Jesus Christ, and what Jesus meant to him.  Dr. King dreamed dreams for all of us, dreams about a world that lived by the teachings of Jesus.  He inspired thousands, millions, to put away violence and live the way of Jesus, not a timid way, but a way that demanded justice.  Because God demands justice and Jesus carried justice to the cross and on out of the tomb.

           On April 3,1968, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was in Memphis, to support striking sanitation workers.  He wasn’t feeling very well—had a sore throat and a fever, so he sent his friend Ralph Abernathy to speak for him at Bishop Charles Mason Temple.  Rev. Abernathy looked out at the crowd and realized that they were disappointed at not seeing Dr. King.  So he went down to the office and he called his friend Martin and said, “You need to come down here.”  So his friend Martin did.  And he spoke with no notes, for forty-three minutes—so if you think this sermon is long, think on that.

           And he finished with these words:

            Well, I don't know what will happen now; we've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop… Like anybody, I would like to live a long life—longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will.  And [God has] allowed me to go up to the mountaintop. And I've looked over, and I've seen the Promised Land.  I may not get there with you.  But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.  And so I'm happy tonight; I'm not worried about anything; I'm not fearing any man.  Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

           The next day, Dr. King was shot and killed, while standing on a balcony at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. 

           And for a moment, the Civil Rights Movement, and America, were torn asunder.  This city was torn asunder, as were cities across this nation.  But slowly people came together, and they vowed to continue the work of Dr. King.  Because they had heard and absorbed and followed the testimony of a man who was first a preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  A follower of the Word of God’s love for all people and God’s demand that we all live in and contribute to justice.

           Right now, in this very country, so wounded in the sixties…and for that matter in every decade since…with violence and bloodshed, right now people are rising up, standing on the testimony of Dr. King, who stood on the testimony of Amos and Isaiah and Jesus, we are standing up and crying out and bringing forth the testimony that is within us. 

           Right now, in these dangerous and depressing and demoralizing times, Rev. Dr. William Barber, a black man, and Rev. Liz Theoharris, a white woman, are leading a new Poor People’s Campaign, continuing the work Dr. King started over fifty years ago.  And right now in this very building, people are gathering to work toward the end of the evils that Dr. King described—the triple evils of militarism, economic inequity, and racism.  Plus a fourth evil that Dr. Barber and Rev. Theoharris have brought to the forefront:  environmental destruction.

           Right now in this very building, people are being sent out, armed only with the echoes of the testimony of Dr. King and with their own stories of yearning for a better way, the way which Jesus taught, people are venturing forth to testify that we can find a new way.

           And we find it first by knowing our own stories.  Our own stories about Jesus—what he did and what he is doing in our lives.

           There is a testimony in you…a story of how God has worked in your life to make a difference—to change your life or the lives of the people around you. 

           There is a testimony in you about justice, about mercy, about acceptance.  I don’t know what your story is, but you do.  And the world could know it…if you just tell it.

Just Water?

 Matthew 3:13-17

                ¹³Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. ¹⁴John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” ¹⁵But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented.

           ¹⁶And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.

           ¹⁷And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

 

           In March of 2018, I was in a bus with sixteen new friends, driving from the Golan Heights to Jerusalem.  As someone who had spent my adult life reading, studying, and then preaching the Gospels, it was a little surreal.  We had spent a couple of nights at a kibbutz right on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.  We had been to Capernaum and to the Mount of the Beatitudes, where Jesus preached his most famous sermon.

           So we’re on the road, chatting, and our guide, Chaim, gets on the microphone up front and says, okay, look out the left windows, and you’re going to get a view of the Jordan River.

           I excitedly moved over to the left side and we went around a corner, and here’s what we saw [Slide].  We drove alongside the river, and the view remained pretty similar.  [Slide]

           I don’t know what I was expecting.  I’ve seen a few Jesus movies—being a pastor and all—and the “River Jordan” is always pretty impressive.

           [Slide]  Here’s one artist’s recreation.  It is not at all accurate.  Even the wider place with the gift shop where we stopped was, well, kinda muddy and looked a lot like the marshes I used to muck around in as a kid in Savannah, Georgia.

           [Slide]  That didn’t stop me from getting in.  Really should have worn shorts that day.

           As we wound our way down the river, driving alongside it much of the way south, I realized that my mental image of the place where Jesus found his cousin John and was baptized is not particularly accurate.  That, in fact, it is closer to the image held by Naaman the Aramean than by countless painters of pretty portraits of John the Baptizer and Jesus.

           Remember Naaman?  Second book of Kings, chapter five?    General in the Aramean (Syrian) army, with leprosy.  He goes to ask Elisha the prophet for help, and Elisha tells him to wash seven times in the Jordan.  And Naaman says, “Ew!  Have you seen that river?!  We have way better rivers in Damascus!”

           But he does it and he’s cured and Yay River Jordan!  She may not be much to look at, but she gets the job done.

           And that’s the thing about baptism.  It gets the job done.  Sure, Jesus could have found a more impressive place to be baptized.  He could have found a more impressive way to signal that he’s about to begin his public work.  We could have a more impressive initiation rite. 

           Even John the Baptist doesn’t think the baptism he’s offering is good enough for Jesus.  According to Matthew, when Jesus came to be baptized, “¹⁴John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’”

           Jesus stopped him right there, though.  “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”

           This is good.  And right.  It gets the job done.

           I’m going to tell you a little secret about religion that you might not know.  You can decide whether to share it with anyone else, because it might blow their minds.

           Sometimes, we religious people…we Christians in particular…sometimes…we overthink things.

           Do you need a minute to sit with that?

           We overthink things.  Always have.  The Council of Nicea—from which we got the Nicene Creed?  Went from May to July of the year 325.  Over two months.  Hope they brough spare robes.

           And that’s nothing.  The council of Trent, held in the 16^th Century to discuss “the Protestant heresies,” lasted eighteen years.

           Eighteen years to talk about whether the Bible really says we are justified by God’s grace as a free gift and not by the works we do or the activity of the church.

           Hint:  it does.  And in the last five hundred years, Catholics and Lutherans have come to largely the same understanding about justification thanks to lots, and lots, of ecumenical discussion.

           We sometimes overthink things.  And there are times when that overthinking results in clarity and needed changes.  There have only been two Ecumenical Councils since the council of Trent almost five hundred years ago.  The first was cut short by war, but the second, affectionately known as Vatican II, finally made good on the promise of Trent, that the people should worship and study the Bible in their own language.

           Sometimes it is good to think deeply, and sometimes it is just a way of avoiding decisions and preserving power.  Our United Methodist siblings are getting ready to split their church because they can’t figure out how to think their way around welcome to LGBTQ people.

           In a culture in which the church has lost its place at the center, overthinking can be pretty dangerous.  We lost a lot of Lutherans when we spent a decade “studying” sexuality.  And we lost a bunch more when all those reams of reports and testimony didn’t say what they wanted them to say.

           Jesus never commissioned a single study.  When an issue presented itself, he dealt with it.  Well, there was that time he was sleeping during a terrible storm, but when they woke him he dealt with it.

           John wanted Jesus to step back and think about his baptism.  Maybe Jesus should be doing the baptism.  Maybe somewhere else.  Maybe we should have a study…or a council.

           Jesus looked at the water—that muddy, altogether pretty ordinary river water—and said “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”

           We need to do this, John.  Righteousness can’t wait.  Grace can’t wait.  My people can’t wait.

           This water is good.  This simple ritual is good.  Because in this water, in that river, in that font over there and in bowls of water and tanks of water and dainty shells full of water in sanctuaries across the world—in that water is the power to fulfill all righteousness. 

           In our baptism, we have received the opportunity [Slide + 3 clicks]

·       To walk proudly in God’s righteousness

·       To witness to the kingdom of God in our midst

·       And to know that God’s grace has saved us and claimed us through our baptismal promises, and thus to reflect that grace to everyone we meet.

 

           That’s what’s in that simple water.  No matter where we got it—a muddy river, a pretty font, a borrowed horse trough [Slide]—don’t laugh—it happens more than you think.

           It’s just water, wherever you got it.  But as Luther reminds us in his Small Catechism, “it is water “comprehended in God's command and connected with God's Word.”

           In that simple water is the power to live through God’s Word.  To know that you are justified by God’s grace.  To reflect that grace to the people in your life.

           We can overthink it, like John the Baptist seems to, and like centuries of church elders have done.  Or we can just let that power wash over us like water, and use it to change lives.

           Someone in your life needs a little grace.  Someone in your life needs a little benefit of the doubt. 

           You have the power.  You got it in the water.  If you haven’t yet been baptized, you can still connect with God’s grace and be a reflection, and I invite you right now into the power of the water.

 

           I invite you right now to turn to page 234 in your hymnal.  Together we are going to affirm our baptisms, to receive the simple water and remember its power.  I invite you to think as we do this, as the water hits you—think about who in your life is hungry for a little grace, and how will you get out of your head and into your heart to give it to them.

 

Affirmation of Baptism.