Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Seeing Jesus


Last Sunday we read John 12:20-33. Here are the thoughts I shared with my community.

In the past few weeks
I have come into the church more often than usual,
to practice the Exultet for Easter Vigil.
On one of my little excursions,
I was reminded of the fact that in many churches
the inside of the pulpit bears the inscription “We wish to see Jesus”.
This of course, is a reminder for the preacher that
people don't go to church to be dazzled by her rhetoric,
amused by his anecdotes or wowed by her erudition:
they go to church because they want to see Jesus.
Just as this little group of Greeks today came to Philip asking to see Jesus.
Why did they? I wonder.

These Greeks were probably those 'God-fearing Greeks' or 'God Fearers'
that we hear about in a number of historical documents.
Gentiles, who were near-proselytes and attended synagogue services.
They were fascinated with Judaism,
but not yet 100% sure they wanted to commit to it,
(possibly because full commitment meant circumcision...)
They had a lose affiliation with a synagogue
and attended the Passover rites in Jerusalem.
It is sad how we lose track of them as we are swept away by Jesus' words.
What happened to them once they had “seen Jesus”?
Did they stay? Did they join the disciples?
Were they still in the city as the terrible events of the next days unfolded?
Was that too much for them to bear? Who knows?

In my experience, there are many who say they want to see Jesus;
although most of the time not in so many words;
many feel a pull toward “something” and if we dig a little
and ask the right questions, they may even admit it: they wish to see Jesus.
But when they say they wish to see Jesus,
in reality what they want to see is the image of Jesus they are comfortable with.
They wish to see baby Jesus in the manger: so cute, so tiny.
They wish to see Jesus as the good shepherd, with the little lamb in his arms. So strong and reassuring.
They want to see the amazing picture of Jesus in his resurrection glory,
all golden rays of light, and rainbows of color, and fluffy clouds.
In other words they want to see “Hallmark Jesus” – the one on the Easter and Christmas greeting cards
Most people want to see a diluted image of Jesus that is not threatening
to all the other beliefs they hold dear.
An image that is not challenging, but soothing, consoling,
My hope is that all of us here today want more than the chance to get a “glimpse” of Jesus.
My hope is that what we really want is to see Jesus in the sense of seeing what Jesus might mean for our lives.
My hope is that we are not afraid to be challenged by the reality of Jesus.
The reality of Jesus that lies in the metaphor that Jesus himself presents to us today:
“unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit”.
To see Jesus is to see the cross, to perceive its meaning and importance
to imagine the possibilities.     AND TO EMBRACE IT.
“Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will be my servant also”, he said.
Therefore to see Jesus is to follow him, on his way to Jerusalem and to the cross.

Remember the rich young man who wanted to inherit eternal life?
He was a good bloke; he respected the law, 
knew his ten commandments and even believed that Jesus had an answer to his quest.
The thing he could not do was to follow Jesus.
And that was the problem because Jesus was not there to provide an answer: Jesus is the answer.

To see Jesus means to see everything filtered through the “Jesus lens”,
to put the attractions and distractions of this life aside
and maintain single-minded focus on the one who is the way, the truth, the life.
To see Jesus is to become Christ-like,
to not only listen to his words and sometimes to repeat them;
but to live the way he lived....and die, at least a little, every day, to our old self.
The cross is there for us to embrace and share and it is only through solidarity in the cross that we can obtain solidarity and communion with God in the new life.
“Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will be my servant also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor”.
To follow Jesus, to be a Christian,
is to be signed with the mark of the cross,
the baptismal mark of incorporation into Christ.
In other words, it is to lose one's life for the sake of the gospel,
the Good News, which is Jesus Christ.
It is to fall into the earth and die so that we can bear much fruit.

This is not a concept that can be easily understood from the outside.
To the onlooker the cross is folly.
It is foolishness to the Greeks and a stumbling block for the Jews,
who see the cross as a symbol of defilement and of defeat.

But not for us.
As we follow Christ and become like him,
we see and know the power of his resurrection.
The cross, freely chosen by Jesus, proclaims his true identity.
He is not just 'a good man, a wise philosopher, a healer,
a comfortable guy who preached peace and blessed the little children'.
He is the Son of God given to the world because
God so loved the world that wanted us not to perish but
- through Jesus - to have eternal life.
In the same way as through the cross we see Jesus in his true self,
the cross proclaims our true identity: that of beloved children of God.

Now, seeing the cross and following Jesus is not easy.
Our Lenten journey is not a smooth one and the liturgies of the Triduum, the last days of the holy week, are powerful reminders of how hard a task it is to be Christ-like.
To be Christ-like we have to willingly enter a dark night:
a night in which we do not know the way but in which God becomes luminously present.
The good news is that we don't have to count on our strength alone.
The cross that we embrace has been embraced before:
God has made our response possible through grace.

We can lift high the cross, the instrument of torture,
because it has become an instrument of salvation.

We can only understand that, if we travel with Jesus all the way.
So I invite you to journey with me, with all of us, through Holy Week,
to hear once again the story of our redemption
as it unfolds in our shared liturgies,
to become a part of the events of Jesus’ last days.

I don’t want you to be like those Greeks and disappear from the story.

I feel a bit sorry for those Greeks, really.
I am afraid the missed the best part; the real good news, the fifth act.
And it is a pity, because it has a very, very, very happy end.

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