Come, See! Go, Tell!

Epiphany 2 b, January 18,2015

John 1:35-51 (with I Samuel 3:1-20 in b.g.) January 18, 2015

I wonder if you have ever done any of the following?

 

Have you eaten lunch or dinner at your desk because you just had to get work done? Have you impatiently attempted to race past a drive through window in order to gulp your coffee or burger and fries as you had to get to wherever you were going ASAP? Have you glanced at your phone over a meal or drinks as texts came in? Have you interrupted your dinner with close friends or your own family to answer somebody else's call? Or, have you left the TV or radio on while friends stopped by or worse yet while your child or spouse were attempting to tell you something important about their day? Have you ever done any of these things?

 

Why do we do that? Why do we make ourselves unavailable in the moment? Why do we sometimes feel and act as if our work, the ensuing interruptions are more important than the people in our presence right now?  Why do we become so much in a hurry that we often close ourselves off from the truth and power of this moment?

 

There could be a number of reasons. We might feel that everything depends on us. Or we may come to believe that we are only as good as our "production". Such thoughts are so daunting. Such thoughts are also huge lies.

 

In such a hurry, as we avoid listening to or hearing what is actually happening with those we love and with ourselves, are we at peace? Are we actually doing what we believe is most important? Are we making the people and things that matter the most to us our priorities?

 

After six decades of living on this earth I have come to realize that these are important questions. Occasionally my own frenetic racing is interrupted by people with piercing questions. One day one of you asked me why I was eating my lunch at my desk. Had I noticed the cherry blossoms all along 4 Road on my way to work? And of course, I hadn't – I had been preoccupied with so many other thoughts and feelings. I felt that I just needed to keep on keeping on – without seeing or listening to so much that is around me.  

 

Wherever we are, regardless of how fast or how slow we are running or walking, Jesus comes. He may come in different forms. He comes whether we realize that we are looking for him or not. He comes because we need him. He comes because He loves us. 

 

One day John the Baptizer and some of his followers were hanging out. Jesus walks by. John tells his followers that Jesus is the Lamb of God, the One who somehow takes away the sin of the world. I am not sure that they understood what John meant. However, two of them decide to go after Jesus. He sees them. He asks them, "What are you looking for?" They respond with a question, "Where are you staying, abiding?" He says, "Come and see". And they do!

 

It's only the beginning for them and us. One of those who comes and sees is Andrew. Andrew then goes and gets his brother Peter. Peter is also invited into "coming and seeing, following Jesus"

 

This morning we hear that Jesus finds another follower, Philip. He invites Philip to follow him. Miraculously, Philip does. Not only that but as part of Philip's following, as part of his amazement in meeting Jesus Philip goes and finds his friend Nathanael. Philip invites Nathanael to "Come and see Jesus". At first, Philip is skeptical. He is quite logical. Philip says a rude thing about Jesus' hometown. After all Nazareth was in the back woods, a town of maybe two-four hundred people. Surely God wouldn't have God's special One come from "such a place", would God?

 

But Nathaniel, because of his friend's personal invitation does approach Jesus. During their interaction Nathaniel is moved to profound trust in Jesus as the Messiah, king of Israel.

 

Sometimes I fear that many of us have given up really looking for anything – anything or anyone of substance, who has the power to make our ears tingle, our hearts leap, our minds imagine, our whole beings begin to dance and sing, who can change us and everything.

 

As with any fear, this may not actually be based on fact. . . But if it is close to being true for you, I beg you to reconsider. Stop eating your meals at your desk. Refuse to take texts when someone you love or cherish is right across from you. Perhaps slow down while driving or better yet get out of your car and walk around your neighborhood or your workplace. Interact with others. Whatever it takes, invest yourselves in those around you, including your children and grandchildren. Dare to see and hear. 

 

Right in front of us is God's creation. Jesus, God's own Son, invites us to come and see Him. Others do too. Come and see him right now! Hear his voice wooing you in the Word and the Sacraments. Be encountered by him in the people around you – in the creation groaning and singing begging us, inviting us to know that we are intimately related, that we are together of God, this One God who becomes flesh in Jesus, God's Word for us and to us.

 

Not only that dear people, but as we begin to see for the first time or are allowed to begin to see Jesus again – may we like Andrew and Philip and I suspect Nathaniel be moved to invite others to join us in coming and seeing Jesus – this One who loves us so much that He takes on our flesh and dies. This is part of our following. To share with others whom we care about our experience with Jesus. We don't have to defend, fully understand or be able to persuade. We can just extend the invitation to join us in coming and seeing, living and loving, being forgiven and forgiving, wondering, questioning and praying. 

 

Even now the risen Christ moves among us through the Holy spirit – inviting us to come and see – to follow him into all the places of our lives in this world – the hills and valleys, the mountains and ocean depths, the joy and pain, the wonder and mystery.

 

Ah, Lord slow us down .Help us to come and see, go and tell. Amen. 

           

Our Identity - Unforgettable!

Baptism of Our Lord, January 11, 2015 (Mark 1:4-11 with Genesis 1:1-5 and Acts 19:1-7 in bg)

Children of God, grace to you and peace...

Do you ever struggle with you identity? Do you ever really question who you are, what you are to be about, your specific place in the grander scheme of things? Do you?

 

I must confess that I sometimes struggle with my identity. As a young boy and adolescent I really wrestled with what I would do? Who was I in light of my particular gifts and skills? As it became clearer as to the particular call of my vocation, I worried about how that was going to work. Given my unique personality and the call I was experiencing from God, would I be able to find someone to share my life with me – who would be willing to travel around to who knows where, to deal with the ups and downs of being a Pastor and sometimes live in a veritable fishbowl. In those days I certainly wondered whether or not I could do it. Sometimes I still do. 

 

In ongoing struggles with our identity questions continue to surface. How am I doing? Have I been faithful? After years of living our identity we may look backwards and wonder if our identity has been what we thought it would be? As I watch church attendance decline, fewer people presenting themselves for seminary, and observe the increasing secularization of our culture, I sometimes I wonder about the value or wisdom of my own identity. Can you identify?

 

I remember Andy. He was amazing. Andy had experienced little opportunity for formal education. But he knew farming. He had been born on a particular piece of land. He had lived  in the same yard and tilled the same soil for 80 years. Andy and his wife, Sarah, had carved out a good life for their three children on that land. They contributed to the life of the communities they were part of including the church.

 

However in these latter years Andy's life was becoming more difficult. Dementia was setting in. Sarah was justifiably concerned. Andy had been arising in the middle of the night, getting dressed and wandering outside. He had little or no awareness of the time of day or night.  As he went out into the farm yard sometimes he couldn't find his way back home. Saskatchewan winters are bitterly cold. People outside for any length of time, particularly not dressed properly can die. Sarah knew something had to be done. In consultation with her adult children, their family doctor and pastor a decision was made. Sarah and Andy would move from the farm into town. Maybe, at least for a while they could live together in a new home there.

 

Moving day arrived. Andy was beside himself. Their Pastor had been called to accompany them on their move, perhaps to assist Andy with his goodbyes to what had been such a great part of his life – that house, that yard and all the land surrounding it. Upon entering the house the Pastor found Andy sitting on the piano bench. Andy's eyes drooped tears. He sobbed as he said to his Pastor, "If I am not a farmer, if I can no longer live here, if I can no longer provide for Sarah and my kids then what good am I! Who am I anyway?"

 

Jesus was young the day he approached that river.  We do not know his thoughts or feelings as he  began his ministry. But that day he went down into the Jordan River to be baptized by John we do know that he clearly heard his own identity being spelled out. We are allowed to listen to that amazing declaration.

 

Mark's gospel tells us that the heavens are literally torn apart as Jesus arises from the water. In that moment, the moment of Jesus' baptism, the gap between God the Creator and we creatures is bridged. The very Spirit of God, the breath of God which hovered over the waters of chaos at Creation, now descends upon Jesus like a dove. Jesus hears a voice. The voice is clear. The source of the voice is God. Jesus is being addressed. We are enabled to listen into what is being said to Jesus. "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." ...

 

I wonder how often Jesus thought back to that moment? As Jesus feeds the hungry, heals the sick, struggles with his closest friends who never get him while he is alive, did he strive to remember that day, to hear again the voice he heard that day at the river, identifying Him as God's own Son?  When he was being beaten, spat upon, whipped, hanging on the cross, did he cling to those words, to that promise, his identity, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased!"?

 

Our amazing news, the good news for everyone is that Jesus is God's Son, the Beloved. His life, death and resurrection allow us not only to glimpse God being for us and with us, but allow us to realize that death and evil and all their accompanying powers including our self doubt, and our mortality  can never trump, nor bring to naught God's love for us and this world.

 

On this festival of the Baptism of our Lord, we not only recall Jesus' baptism, but we hear of his unmistakeable identity.

 

Because of Who He is, we are pushed, even shoved by the very breath of God to the radical ongoing reality of our baptism. God's Spirit acts there and here, then and now, again and again, seeking to bringing order out of chaos, warmth and new life where once there was frigidity and death. 

 

God declares in our baptism calling us by name, "You are my son, you are my daughter. I love you. I join you to my Son and his body. I call you to follow and trust Him - all the days of your life."

 

This, dear people is my identity, your identity, our identity together. We are numbered uniquely among the daughters and sons of God. No one and nothing can take this away from us. Our identity is not our accomplishment. Rather, our identity is a gift from God, forged through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. God's Spirit wills to work all of this out in and through us.

 

Our daily living questions then are: Do we know this? D we realize whose we are, which births who are? As we do – how then shall we live, now?

 

By God's grace may we continually remember and know our identity - blessed to be blessings. Amen.