Jesus walks on Water

Pentecost 9
John 6:16-26 

In quick succession John gives us the fourth and fifth of the signs or miracles of Jesus that he includes in his Gospel. Last week we looked at the feeding of the multitude. Now, with no interlude, discussion or explanation, John goes straight into the account of Jesus walking on water. The two miracles belong together. In Matthew and Mark they also occur back to back without interlude. The discussion of their meaning comes only after the crowds encounter Jesus on the other side of the sea of Galilee, the next day. And we will be looking at that explanation next week. But today, our focus is on the briefest of the miracle accounts in John’s gospel, Jesus walking on water.

The story is well known and has found its way into popular culture and imagination. There is a lizard in Australia that can run quickly enough to go across the top of short stretches of water, so it is called, of course, the Jesus Christ lizard. If someone has to get across a river or lake and there is no boot, they will often quip, ‘pity I can’t walk on water.’

One of the first jokes I remember from my youth was about walking on water. Someone told it to my father, thinking he would appreciate it since he went to church regularly. I have heard it since in various forms and iterations. It goes like this:

Three preachers, a Baptist, a Pentecostal and a Lutheran, went out on a lake fishing one day in a dinghy. The Baptist and the Pentecostal pastor often went fishing together and had long invited the Lutheran pastor to joint them. He finally agreed. The day was going well, apart from the fact that no one had actually caught any fish. The Lutheran pastor was surprised during their discussions at how pious and knowledgeable about the Bible his colleagues were. He found he had rather underestimated them. After a couple of hours of fishing and conversation, the Pentecostal pastor sheepishly admitted that he needed to take a nature break. ‘We’ll bring our lines in and row you to shore,’ the Lutheran pastor said. ‘No need,’ said the Pentecostal pastor. And without hesitation, he stepped out of the boat and nearly skipped the thirty metres or so to shore. The Lutheran pastor was flabbergasted. He had never seen anything like it. He was going to say something to the Baptist pastor, but he continued fishing as if nothing had happened. The Pentecostal soon returned to the boat, skipping across the water in the same way as he had left it. About half an hour passed and the Baptist pastor announced that he too needed to take a nature break. And without another word, he hopped out of the boot and skipped his way across the surface of the water to shore. Well, the Lutheran pastor was not only in shock at what he had seen but was beginning to feel quite insecure about the level of his own faith. Another hour passed and the Lutheran pastor could not longer put off his own visit to shore. Common sense told him he should ask the others to row him in. But he couldn’t let himself and his own faith be shown up by his colleagues. So he said a quick prayer, asking God for enought faith. He announced to his two colleague that he, too, needed to head to the shore. He boldly stepped out of the boat, into the water, and sunk straight down. The Baptist pastor turned to his Pentecostal colleague. ‘You don’t suppose he didn’t know where the stepping stones were, do you?’

So the joke is that none of them had actually walked on water. Because that is simply not possible. And that is exactly the point of this miracle of Jesus. People do not walk on water. Not even in the Old Testament stories of the great miracle-working prophets, did that happen. When a great body of water was in the way, Moses tapped his staff to the ground and the Red Sea parted, letting him and the people walk across on dry land.  Elijah made the river part with Elisha’s cloak (2 Kings 2:13-14). But no one ever walked across on top of the water. That is, not until Jesus walked more than five kms into the middle to the Sea of Galilea, during a storm, to join his struggling disciples in their boat. As was the case with the miracle of the feeding of the multitude, Jesus matched and exceeded the examples of Moses and the miracle working prophets who were seen as the forerunners of the Messiah. The symbolism was again not to be missed.

And not only did Jesus walk on water, but the boat they were rowing immediately was on the shore at the other side of the lake.  If you have ever been stuck on the ocean or a large body of water in a storm, it is quite a frightening experience. You are not safe, not able to rest, not able to breathe a sigh of relief, until you are finally again on dry, unmoving land.

When I was 15 my cousin and I embarked on a week-long canoe trip down the longest river in the state. On the third night we came to a large, dammed lake that was 4 kms across and 10 kms long. We camped along the bank at the widest part. In the morning we needed to cross over to the other side where we could portage our canoe. We began at first light and the wind was starting to come up, but was manageable. But soon the wind was blowing steadily at 90 kms an hour. We later learned it was the strongest sustained wind in that area on record. Lucky us! Well, four kms might not seem like much, but the wind was coming straight at us and the waves had soon become so large that they were breaking over the bow of the canoe, causing it to slowly fill with water. We couldn’t turn around without capsizing. The only option was to go forward. But against the wind and waves, it was all we could do to keep the canoe straight. Like the disciples stuck on the sea of Galilee, rowing against the wind and the waves, we were stuck. And getting tired. Our arms ached but there was no possibility of taking a break. Soon, every ten strokes, my cousin, who was in the front, set down his paddle to bail water out of the canoe so we didn’t sink, while I did my best to keep us pointing into the waves. Then he joined me for 10 more strokes on the paddle, hoping to make some small headway before bailing more water out. A 30 minute paddle across the lake ended up taking us four hours. At one point, about 3 hours in, my cousin turned to me and said, ‘I can’t keep up. We’re not going to make it. Let’s just give up now. They saw drowning is over quick.’

‘We are going to make it,’ I assured him, though I didn’t really believe it. ‘I can see the shore getting closer when we crest each wave,’ I said. But I couldn’t see much of anything through the rain. I only knew we had to keep heading into the wind and the waves to get to the other side. So, we pressed on. When wefinally reached the other shore we were both relieved and surprised. We dropped our paddles and collapsed forward on our seats. And wept. Neither of us thought we would make it. We were not safe until we finally hit the other shore.

That’s what the disciples were experiencing in the midst of the Sea of Galilee. And Jesus didn’t simply show up and amaze them in the middle of the sea; he brough them safely do the other side. He finished the job. He got them safely to shore.

Nothing like that had been done before. Who can control the elements, walking on the surface of the water? Who transports a boat from the middle of the sea immediately to the other side? Once recovered they may very well have thought of Psalm 107. As fishermen who spent much time in sometimes perilous seas they would have known it well.

Some went down to the sea in ships,
    doing business on the mighty waters;
24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,
    his wondrous works in the deep.
25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
    which lifted up the waves of the sea.
26 They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
    their courage melted away in their calamity;
27 they reeled and staggered like drunkards
    and were at their wits’ end.
28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
    and he brought them out from their distress;
29 he made the storm be still,
    and the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 Then they were glad because they had quiet,
    and he brought them to their desired haven.
31 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
    for his wonderful works to humankind.

Or again, Psalm 77 may have come to their mind. ‘When the waters saw you, o God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid. The very deep trembled …. Your way was through the sea, your path, though the mighty waters; yet your footprints were unseen.’ (vv16, 19).

Who does something like that? Who walks on the surface of the water, and brings a boat instantly to the opposite shore, several kilometres away. God does. That’s who. The creator of the wind and the sea.

And that’s how Jesus identified himself to his disciples when he came to them on the sea. What our English Bibles generally translate as ‘It is me,’ is the Greek ego eimi. Literally, ‘I am’. They are the same unusual and brief order of words used in the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible that God proclaimed to Moses as his name. ‘I am’. John’s readers would have been familiar with these words. And used here with such brevity “I am. Do not be afraid’ there would be little doubt as to their meaning.

Like with the other miracle stories in John’s Gospel the message is clear. We are not dealing with just another prophet. Not even a great prophet like Moses or Elijah. We are dealing with one who can feed a crowd of thousands with a boys’ lunch of bread and fish. We are dealing with someone who controls the sea, the waves and the wind. We are dealing with someone who could fold space upon itself, causing a boat in dire strife to suddenly be safe on the opposite shore. We are dealing with the one who created the wind and the waters, the one who crated and controls space and time. Jesus’ walking on water was not some parlour trick to impress his disciples. They were already impressed. It was a sign. A sign that their teacher, the one they had come to accept as the promised Messiah, was God their creator.

And this God came to them in the midst of the storm. He told them not to fear, and brought them to the safety of the distant shore.

Jesus is not just God the creator who has power over the wind and wavs, who controls space and time. He is the God who cares for his people. He is the God who is willing to come to us in our time of need and distress. He is the God who notices when we are in strife and who comes to our aide.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

Feeding of the five thousand.

Pentecost 8
John 6:1-15

Today’s reading is the story of the feeding of the five thousand. It is the fourth sign, or miracle story, included in John’s Gospel. And it is the only miracle recorded in all four gospels. It is also one of several stories in John’s Gospel centred around a meal. And it’s a big one, the biggest sit-down meal described in the Bible.

Meals are important. We learn much by eating with others. It is around meals that people get to know each other, talk about important things, welcome one another. Bishop Robert, who is retiring the end of this month, has a theory that a congregation that is growing will eat often together. Whenever he hears of a congregation that is beginning to grow he asks how often they share meals. And when he hears of congregations that are struggling, he asks the same question. His informal findings over the past couple of years is that the more we eat together, the more people will see the love of Christ among us.  I think John might have had a similarly high view of the importance of meals. So much of John’s Gospel revolves around meals. Five of the final chapters of John’s Gospel take place in the context of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples. During his last resurrection appearance with his disciples John tells us that Jesus cooked them breakfast (fish and bread again!). Jesus’ first miracle, in which he showed he was creator by turning water into wine, took place in the context of a wedding feast. And in today’s text, we find the largest sit-down meal described in the New Testament, a meal in which everyone is fed ‘til they are filled, and with food left over.

But this story is not just a meal story. It is a miracle story.

As we have seen in our series on John’s Gospel, John does not include the things the other gospels have included. He focuses on stories and teaching that had not been told. John records only seven miracles, or signs, that Jesus performs. We have already seen the changing of water to wine, the healing of the official’s son at a distance, and the healing of the lame man on the Sabbath. And now sign number four: the miracle of the feeding of the multitude. But why include a well-known miracle that the other Gospel writers have already told us about?

A good place to start is to look at things John tells us about this story that Matthew, Mark and Luke have not. John, as usual, gives his telling very much the feel of an eyewitness account by including little details that only someone who was there would think to include. John, for instance, is the only one who mentions any of the disciples who were there by name. Philip, who was from that area, is asked where food might be found to feed such a large group. If there were anywhere nearby to purchase enough food for so many, then Philip would know about it. But Philip, rather than coming up with a solution, only adds to the difficulty of the problem that it would take almost a years wages to buy enough food to feed such a crowd.

And John also mentions Andrew, for it is Andrew who brings the boy with five loaves and two fish to Jesus. The other gospels do not explain where the bread and fish came from. Surely if they had asked around widely they would have found more food than this among so many. But likely this young boy, who had his simple packed lunch with him, must have heard the disciples talking about where to find food. So he approaches one of them, Andrew, with his generous but hopelessly naïve offer to share his lunch. And Andrew, who seems to show some spark of faith here, decides to bring the boy and his five loaves and two fish to Jesus. We can well imagine John, hearing the accounts of this event read from the first three gospels, and wishing people knew more of the story of where the bread and fish came from.

But surely there is more to John’s inclusion of the feeding of the multitude than his desire to add a few more interesting details. If this were his motivation, he would have included expanded versions of many other accounts that had been included in the other gospels.

John points us in the direction he is taking us when he tells us that this miracle takes place as the Passover is approaching and people are making their way to Jerusalem. This is a fact the other three gospels do not mention. It helps explain why there is such a large crown out and about on this side of the Sea of Galilee. Entire families will beginning their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem. John’s reference to the Passover also reminds us of Moses. It sets up Jesus’ explanation later in this chapter that he is the true bread of life, and image which draws both upon the eucharistic symbolism of the Passover, and also the mana that came from heaven in the time of Moses.

A key new detail that John includes in found in verse 14. ‘When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is the prophet who is to come into the world.”’

Remember, each of the seven signs or miracles that John includes are signs pointing to who Jesus is. John includes this miracle, even though it is a story his readers are already well familiar with, because it points clearly to who Jesus is. John highlights this by telling us that as soon as the people had finished eating, they drew the conclusion that Jesus was the prophet, promised and predicted already by Moses. This is an allusion to Deuteronomy 18:15, where Moses says ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me …’ So references to ‘the prophet’ whom the people awaited is a reference to this promise from Moses, which marks the beginning and foundation of the Jewish expectation of a Messiah. So convinced were the people, in fact, that they were ready to take hold of Jesus then and there and declare him their king. So Jesus has to slip away. The point is that the people present immediately understood what this sign of feeding the multitude said about who Jesus was.

By why did the crowd respond in this way? Why did they see this miracle as a sign not just that Jesus was a prophet, but was the prophet?

In order to understand what the crowd was thinking when Jesus performed this miracle we need to recall the Old Testament reading from this morning. Elijah and Elisha were the classic prophets of Israel. The messianic expectation was that the coming messiah would be a prophet of this type and order – just as he was to be like Moses. Both Elijah and Elisha were well known for performing miracles of ‘extension’, that is, of extending food to meet the needs of those who were hungry. There was the instance of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath and the oil and meal that did not run out for her, her son and the prophet during the famine (1 Kings 17:8-16); and Elisha and the widow’s oil that filled many vessels and allowed her to feed her son (2 Kings 4:1-7). But more important was the story of the miracle we heard read this morning in which Elisha fed one hundred people when he had only 20 loaves of barely bread and some ears of grain. And there was food left over!

John’s inclusion of the fact that the loaves of bread the boy had were barley bread, the bread of the poor, is important. It is meant to remind of the story of Elisha. The fact that there was food left over is also meant to recall this story.

So in the feeding of the multitude, Jesus is not only providing food to the people, as God did in the time of Moses with the mana from heaven, but he also replicates a miracle of one of the classic prophets, one of the prophets whose ministry pointed to that of the Messiah. But Jesus does more than simply emulate or match the miracle of Elisha.

A recent news story told of an Australian coming close to matching the record for hotdogs eaten in ten minutes. I believe the number was an incredible 54. Of course, records are made to be broken. And soon someone will eat one or two more than this. That is beating the existing record. But what if someone suddenly ate a 1,000 hot dogs? That would not even be in the same category of achievement.

Elisha feed one hundred people.  That was the well known story. That was the ‘record’ so to speak for miracles of extension. Then Jesus comes along and feeds five thousand men. And the account in Matthew confirms that, according to the method of counting crowds and taken census at this time of counting adult males, this did not include women and children. The disciples were able to make a rough count of those present as they asked the people to divide  themselves into groups of about 50 men, each with their families. So there would have been about 100 such groups. Now if the average family of that time included a man, his wife, and three children (a conservative estimate) that would give us about 25,000 people. So Elisha feeds 100 people (and is one of the greatest of all the prophets). And Jesus feeds 25,000.  Now numbers are important in this story, as they are int eh story of Elisha. That is why the details are included in both the OT and the Gospel text. So just how much greater is Jesus’ miracle than Elisha’s based on these numbers? Anyone have it worked out? The disciples and other witnesses would certainly have noticed. Jesus’ miracle exceeds that of Elisha by a magnitude of 250.

But as they say in those late night commercials, ‘but wait, there’s more!’  Elisha fed 100 people with 20 loaves, but Jesus had only 5 loves to begin with. This means Jesus and only a quarter the amount of bread to work with as Elisha did. So when we take this additional ‘handicap’ into account, this extends Jesus’ miracle to something in the order of 1,000 times the magnitude of that of Elisha! Jesus is not simply meeting or surpassing what Elisha did. Jesus is in a category all of his own.

So what’s the point?

The point John is making is this. Jesus is not simply a great prophet in the order of Moses, or Elijah, or Elisha. Jesus is the prophet, the one that Moses first promised. Jesus surpasses the great prophets of Israel in the signs that he does by such a magnitude that they are not even in the same class.

Jesus is not just a great prophet. He is the promised Messiah. He is God come to us in human flesh. It is the same thing John has shown us in the previous three signs or miracles that he related.

As we said earlier, meals are important. In this meal story, through the sign of feeding so many with so little, Jesus again shows us who he is. In the breaking of bread, he reveals himself to us.

So next time you are enjoying a simple meal, perhaps even with a bit of bread and fish, remember that in just such a simple meal, Jesus revealed to us that he is the promised Messiah, God in human flesh, who has come among us to be our bread of life.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing
Port Macquarie.

My Father is always at his work.

Grace to you and peace, from God our Father and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, Amen.

Verse 36 states – “I have testimony weightier than that of John.  For the works that the Father has given me to finish – the very works that I am doing – testify that the Father has sent me.” 

Today we are continuing the journey through the book of John.  Before we go too far let’s recap on where we have come from over the last couple of weeks.  You may recall Jesus gets himself into trouble by healing a lame man on the Sabbath, and then telling him to pick up and carry his mat – both of which were prohibited on the day of rest. In his defence, he says “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I too am working.” This gets him into more hot water, adding the even more serious charge of blasphemy. Last week, we saw Jesus outline his defence: he’s not setting himself up as a rival god. On the contrary, he’s learned alongside the Father like a son learning the family business, and has come to do his work, which indeed is his own work. Now this is a big claim Jesus makes, but can he prove it? This is what today’s part of the trial is all about.”[1]

Reflecting back on my high school days of legal studies (which no doubt qualifies me as an amateur legal expert),  I loved the thought of going to a courthouse and seeing a real-life case.  I recall visiting the Ipswich Court House on a school excursion, where my classmates and I were shuffled into the room, bowing before the judge upon entry.  As I scanned the room, I can vividly see the observers, the jury and judge, the legal teams with their stacks of documents, and finally the big, burly, tough biker gang member, the accused, surrounded by Police.  He glared at us with anger chiselled on his face.  Just then, the bang of the gavel by the Judge brought the room to attention and with a monotone voice stated – ‘the defence can call its first witness.’ 

Now the words ‘witness’ and ‘testimony’ in today’s text are closely related.  The definition of testimony is “Evidence of a witness; evidence given by a witness, under oath or affirmation; as distinguished from evidence derived from writings, and other sources.”[2]  The Greek verb, testify, is repeated 11 times by Jesus in today’s gospel. This places a strong emphasis on the testimony and witness in today’s gospel.[3]

Jesus brings his witnesses forward with a simple argument.  That he is not guilty of saying false things about God if he actually is God.   The Jewish leaders, of course, did not accept this.  To support this argument in Jewish Law in Jesus’ time, Jesus required 3 credible accounts or witnesses.[4]  Now Jesus could make outlandish claims in his own defence, but as Jesus himself says, one would question the credibility or validity of this self-testimony.  Anyone can make bold, and outlandish statements without credible support.  You only need to turn on the TV and watch an episode of Media Watch for examples of this.   As with every Judge or Jury, they look at the collection of evidence, of witness statements and testimony, consider the facts and develop an informed conclusion and opinion.  So, today is not about Jesus asking us to take a blind leap faith.  He reminds us in John 5:31 “If I testify about myself, my testimony is not valid.”

With that in mind, let’s step into the court room as Jesus calls his witnesses to the stand.

John the Baptist[5]

The first witness Jesus calls is John the Baptist, whose ministry many of the Jews had accepted.

5:32-34 ‘There is another who testifies in my favour, and I know that his testimony about me is valid. You have sent to John and he has testified to the truth. Not that I accept [OR need to take for myself] human testimony; but I mention it that you may be saved.’

In fact, John had earlier testified as to Jesus’ identity:

John 1:29b ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world’

John 1:34 ‘I have seen and I testify that this is the Son of God.’

So, Jesus reminds them of John’s testimony, as his opening argument. In some ways it’s a bit like our own testimony to what God has done in our lives.

But Jesus extends this testimony to something even more compelling than human testimony – whether it be John the Baptist’s or ours:

5:35-36 ‘John was a lamp that burned and gave light, and you chose for a time to enjoy his light. I have testimony weightier than that of John. For the works that the Father has given me to finish—the very works that I am doing—testify that the Father has sent me.’

Jesus is saying, don’t just accept who I am based on what another person has said about me, but look at what is happening around you.  Look a what I am doing!  See with your own eyes that which the Jewish authorities seem to be oblivious if not blinded to.

Moses

The next witness Jesus brings to the stand is is real surprise. It is the star witness of the prosecution! They were quoting the Ten Commandments against Jesus. They recited the words from the books of Moses as charges against Jesus. But Jesus turns their witness against them by calling Moses to the stand![6]

45 “Yet it isn’t I who will accuse you before the Father. Moses will accuse you! Yes, Moses, in whom you put your hopes. 46 If you really believed Moses, you would believe me, because he wrote about me. 47 But since you don’t believe what he wrote, how will you believe what I say?”

Jesus is making a very big statement.  The Jewish people loved the Law of God.  He reminds them that they know Moses.  Not the person, but Moses in the form of the first five books of the Bible, the Torah.  The Law that the Jewish authorities diligently study and strictly adhere to.   However, they missed that Moses pointed to a great prophet to come. With all their study they still did not recognise God in the flesh, staring them in the face.  As the old saying goes – ‘they couldn’t see past the nose upon their face.’

The Father himself[7]

And if that weren’t enough, Jesus goes on to call one more witness.  An even bigger deal and adding weight to the witness of Moses.  Jesus calls God the Father himself:

5:37a ‘And the Father who sent me has himself testified concerning me.’

How does the Father testify about Jesus? The Father would have testified about Jesus through the miracles Jesus has just referred to. He could also have been referring to  the voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism – which isn’t actually recorded in John’s gospel. I think, given the past tense Jesus uses, that he is referring mainly to the witness of the Scriptures, the OT which points to Jesus. This is what Jesus is referring to a few verses later:

5:39-40 ‘You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.’

That is, the Jews should have recognized Jesus because their own holy writings point toward him. They were in a privileged position, having the plan of God revealed to them. Yet they ended up worshipping the plan instead of God himself. They placed their faith in possessing the word of God, rather than actually responding to it. And when God himself actually turns up, they don’t recognize him. They were so busy dissecting his word that they didn’t have time for God himself. He didn’t fit their preconceived idea of what God should be like.

Now before we jump too quickly to their culpability in the matter, let’s apply the warning to ourselves. How much are we in danger of merely possessing the gospel message, without having any sort of relationship with its author? Of having the words of eternal life that remain for us only on the page and don’t find their way into our hearts, into our minds, into our behaviour. Having a Bible and studying it diligently, knowing the gospel, being able to explain the atonement – that doesn’t save us. We only ‘have life’ if we truly come to the one to whom the Scriptures testify.[8]

You may recall a picture of Martin Luther shared with us previously by Pastor Mark. The image is from St. Mary’s Church in Wittenburg where, Luther preached from 1514 onward.  At the centre of the auditorium, you can see the “Reformation Altarpieces” (paintings of communion, confession, and other ministries). One contains a picture depicting Luther preaching; showing how we should view the Scriptures, and how we should view the preaching of the Scriptures.  It’s a beautiful picture of what is intended to do every week: A finger on the text, pointing people to Jesus, with all eyes on Jesus, not on the preacher. It’s all about Jesus.[9]

And the same is true for us today.  Whenever people are confronted by the claims of Jesus, and ask us “why should I accept what Jesus says?”[10] What will be our response?  We are called to form an opinion.  We need to investigate the evidence.  Either Jesus is right or he’s wrong. Either he’s from God or he’s not.  And if we believe that Jesus is God, what we do or don’t do is critical.

Do we share the joyous news of the Gospel, the saving redemption through the resurrection and the promise of eternal life.  As with the image of the preaching Martin Luther, in which direction do we point the focus and attention?  Do we place the shining light under the table? Or do we find the courage through the power of Holy Spirit to reveal the light in the same way as John the Baptist,  bathing in the warming glow that comes from a Christ-centred perspective.

May God grant us the clarity of heart, the conviction and strength of the spirit to point to the one redeeming saviour, so that all may come to Jesus Christ and find the life that is truly life.

Amen.

Let us pray – May the peace of God that passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus unto life everlasting.  Amen.

References

https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

https://sermons.logos.com/sermons/685661-witnesses-for-the-defense-john-5:31-47

https://idcraleigh.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/John-5.31-47-1.pdf

[1] https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

[2] https://thelawdictionary.org/testimony/

[3] S. Renn, Vine’s Expository Dictionary of Bible Words, Hendrickson Publishers, 2005, p.1053.

[4] https://sermons.logos.com/sermons/685661-witnesses-for-the-defense-john-5:31-47

[5] https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

[6] https://sermons.logos.com/sermons/685661-witnesses-for-the-defense-john-5:31-47

[7] https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

[8] https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

[9] https://idcraleigh.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/John-5.31-47-1.pdf

[10] https://timmacbride.com/2015/06/18/john5d/

“Like Father, like Son”

Pentecost 6
John 5:16-30

Less than a year ago my father died.  I was able to be there for his final days, but not for his funeral. I sent a message to be read out by oldest son. In it, one of the things I said was this:

“My father was seemingly full of contradictions; very talkative and yet also shying away from social functions. He loved working with machinery but wouldn’t have anything to do with telephones or computers. He worked hard, even when the time came that there wasn’t much that needed doing. And he had a life-long obsession with moving dirt from one place to another that none of us, including my mother, could ever really understand. Entire hills on the farm disappeared and slowly reappeared elsewhere. And none of us could every really explain why.

But I also remember my father’s strong faith in Christ. I remember that when he gave his word, he meant it. I remember who he cared deeply about justice and doing the right thing. I remember him being generous in helping others. And I also remember that for much of my life, I worked very hard (as many of us do) to not be like my father. But now I cannot think of a better complement than when someone to says, ‘You remind me of your Dad’”

We are all more like our parents than we might like to admit. Our parents, or those who raised us in place of our biological parents, are the people who shaped us. They are our first and most important and influential teachers. They are our first and primary role models. So when we read the opening words of Jesus’ response to the religious leaders who objected to his healing of the lame man on a Sabbath, Jesus seems to begin by reminding his listeners of just such a truism about parents and children. In this case, about fathers and sons.

If we read the opening words of today’s text as ‘a’ father and ‘a’ son’ rather than ‘the’ Father and ‘the’ Son it would sound like a typical wise saying, much like the common ‘like father, like son,’ or ‘like mother, like daughter’ that we still hear today. They reflect a very ancient truth that we are all much more like our parents than we might like to admit.

In fact, some commentators have thought that just such a saying lay behind this statement of Jesus, and that he was drawing his listeners in by adapting a well-known truth. ‘A son can do nothing on his own, but only does what he sees his father doing, for a son does whatever his father does. A father loves his son and shows him everything that he does.’

But Jesus takes this saying much further. He talks about ‘the’  Father and ‘the’ Son. Jesus makes it clear the Father he is speaking about is God, and he himself is the Son. Suddenly a truism about life and relationships becomes a lesson about the nature of God.

This speech of Jesus, of which we have heard only the first half this Sunday, is the first of several long speeches of Jesus that John includes in his Gospel. The other gospels have parables. John includes none. What John instead shares with his readers is a number of Jesus’ substantial teaching talks. And this is the first of these. In it, Jesus brings up a topic that continues throughout John’s Gospel – the relationship between the Father and the Son.

And it fits naturally in this context because Jesus has just been criticised for healing a man on the Sabbath. And his defense is simply this: ‘My Father is still working, and I also am working.” The Jews taught the God rested from creating on the seventh day. But they also held that God did not rest from being God, or giving life. They taught that on the Sabbath, God’s people rest, but God continues being God, working for his people.  So this is a big statement on Jesus’ part. Jesus is saying that he is not simply allowed to heal on the Sabbath, but that he must by nature do this because he is not just a miracle worker or prophet. He is God.

Jesus begins his talk with an image we can relate to. It is the image of a son watching and learning from his father. Notice in verse 19 that the Son ‘sees’ what the Father does, and in verse 20 we read that the Father ‘shows’ the Son all that he does. Jesus begins by showing us a close relationship between a father and son that was also, typically for that day, a relationship between teacher and apprentice.

But what work does the Father do that he shows the Son? Jesus progresses the analogy when he says, ‘Just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whomever he wishes.’  Suddenly we are talking about much more than making tables and chairs! The authorities were concerned that Jesus healed a lame man. Jesus lets them know that he can, and would, do greater things that this. Only God can give life. When Jesus says that he too can give life, can and will raise the dead, and can do this for whomever he wishes, there is only one way the Jewish leaders can interpret this statement. Jesus is claiming to be on the same level with the Father. He is claiming to be God.

Jesus goes on to underscore this point. Whatever the Father is, that is also what the Son is. Whatever honours the Father, also honours the Son, and vice versa.

  • The Father gives life, the Son gives life (verse 21)
  • The Father who is judge of all, give the role of judge to the Son (verse 22)
  • Just as the Father is honoured, so the Son is to be honoured (verse 23)
  • Just as the Father has life in and of himself (something only ascribed to God) so the Son has life in himself (verse 26)

So Jesus’ relationship with the Father is not simply that of a human son following in the footsteps of his father or looking to his father as a role model. Jesus identifies himself with the Father in every way that was important for the Jewish conception of God.

It is because of who Jesus is, that he can talk about a future coming in judgement, of raising the dead at the end of the age, and giving eternal life. The Son and the Father are one God not just during Jesus’ earthly ministry, but into all eternity. Jeus does all these things with and through the Father. They are one in honour, one in life, one in judging and granting eternal life. They act together, as one. As Jesus will explain in a later speech about his relationship with the Father that, ‘I and the Father are one.’

The religious authorities of the day were upset about a formerly lame man carrying his mat on the Sabbath. When they confronted Jesus, demanding an explanation, he calmly explained to them who he was.

It was an explanation they could neither grasp nor accept.

John started his Gospel with the claim that Jesus was God who created the heavens and the earth. Jesus made his own claim to be God through a unique set of miracles that only God could do. And now, Jesus states clearly who he is. He is allowed to heal on the Sabbath because he is lord of the Sabbath. He is judge and giver of life.

John tells this story and records these words of Jesus not to keep us in suspense over what the religious authorities will make of this claim. We already know what they will decide. Their rejection of Jesus as God among us is a foregone conclusion. John relates this story and this speech of Jesus, rather, for us, the readers. It is for those of us who were not there, who would only have the accounts of what happened.

We should not get caught up in how the Pharisees, Sadducees and priests respond to Jesus’ claims. The question put before us is how we will respond. How will we see Jesus? What does it mean for us that the Creator and giver of life, the judge of all, lived and walked among us?

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

A Healing and an Inconvenient Mat

Pentecost 5
John 5:1-15  

In this morning’s text we have the third of John’s seven miracle stories. Remember, John calls these events signs, because of what they point to. As you will recall, both the turning of water into wine and the healing of the court official’s son were signs that pointed to the divinity of Jesus, but in different ways. This third sign does the same thing, in yet another way. It does so by showing that Jesus is Lord of the Sabbath. And as John points out, what Jesus did and said caused great anger among the Jewish religious leaders because they understood that Jesus was ‘making himself equal to God.’ This point about who Jesus was is one John has been making since the opening of his Gospel. And he does it again in this miracle story.

But instead of focusing once more on what should be becoming obvious to us, I would like to look at this story from a different perspective – from that of the lame man and religious leaders of the time, both of whom were so preoccupied with their own concerns that they failed to see God at work before their very eyes.

So, in today’s text we have a miracle account in John that looks a bit like the miracle stories included in the other Gospels. But there are some differences that make it stand out. What strikes us immediately is that this man, unlike the desperate father in last week’s reading, does not seek out Jesus, nor does he ask for healing when Jesus finds him. In fact, when Jesus prods him to ask for healing – which he clearly wanted after 38 years waiting beside what the locals believed to be a miracle pool – he simply complains about never being able to get into the pool first when the water was stirred, likely by a intermittent spring under the pool. After 38 years waiting to be healed you would think he would know why he was there. You would think that he would have answered, ‘Yes, of course I wish to be made well,’ when Jesus asked him. But over the years he had been conditioned to expect nothing to happen. But even though he does not ask to be healed, even when prompted by Jesus, Jesus heals him anyway.

It is a reminder that God can freely work in our lives whether we ask for his help or not. Healing (like the even greater gift of forgiveness that Jesus alludes to when he encounters the man again later that day in the temple) is not a reward for asking in the right way, or for strong enough faith. The lame man in this story does not ask for healing, not even when invited to. And beyond that, he had no idea who healed him until later that day. So the man is not healed because of any amount of faith on his part. This was a pure act of grace.

In some ways he was not dissimilar to the Pharisees and Priests in the temple. They had been conditioned to see their faith as simply about rules and their enforcement. It was all they could see. So when the man showed up at the temple for the first time in 38 years – walking – what did they see? Not a lame man who had been healed after a lifetime of being unable to walk. All they saw was a man carrying a mat on the Sabbath, which was one of the items that they listed as a ‘burden’ that should not be carried on a Sabbath, as this would constitute work.

So how did the Pharisees miss this point and become hung up on a trivial rule? And how did the lame man seem to forget why he had been going to this pool every day for the past 38 years?

It is because we tend only to see what is important to us. We tend to see what we have been conditioned to see. And sometimes, that means we miss the bigger picture of what is happening.

When I was eight years old I wanted a bicycle in the worst way. Many of the kids in school had bikes. And the ‘townies’ used to ride their bikes to school when the weather was good. Their bikes all were of the same style, with banana seats and butterfly handlebars. They were completely useless as bikes, but easy for kids to ride. And I wanted one of those. After many weeks of asking, my father brought home an old bicycle someone had given him for free. What he brought home was not a kid’s butterfly handlebar bike with banana seat, but an old single speed Schwinn with balloon tyres and pedal brakes. And it was an adult size so I could not reach the pedals.  My Father said if I could ride this bike 100 yards (100 metres) he would get me one of those bikes like the other kids at school had.

So to ride this I would lean the bike against a tree at the top of small hill, climb up, then push myself off.  It took several days of trying before I was able to roll forward at all before the bike fell over. My little sister was a frequent and interested spectator in my efforts. We measured out the distances I rode by pacing them out after each ride. After a couple of weeks I was able to make it about 10 metres before falling over. Well short of the goal. I finally worked out that without being able to pedal I was not able to get of enough speed to maintain balance. What I needed was a bigger hill! So with my sister in tow, we went to a long dirt track at the back of our farm which had a hill of just over the required 100 yard distance. It was a long steep incline with quite a few tree roots across parts of the track. But it was the best chance of getting enough speed to stay up on the bike. All I had to do was make it to the bottom, where the track turned sharply to the left and headed back toward our house. We found an oak tree near the top of the hill and I climbed up, as I had with the smaller hill, and balanced myself. My sister prepared to push me off when I was ready, as we had been doing on the smaller hill. A small voice at the back of my head was saying that this was a bad idea. But I was eight, so I ignored the voice and shoved off, my sister pushing to help me get up speed. It worked. The faster speed from the hill allowed me, though wobbly, to keep upright. I soon passed my previous record and was still going. I hit the first patch of tree roots and managed to stay on the bike. I was actually riding! And gaining speed. But because I could not reach the pedals I could also not brake.

About 100 metres down the hill the dirt track took a sharp turn to the left. I didn’t’ have the bike handling skills to make the bike turn with the track and went straight instead, and right into a pile of firewood that tapered down at a 45 angle to the ground. Somehow I managed to hit the wood pile straight on and my speed sent me up the woodpile like it was a ramp. I flew into the air above the wood pile, then came down on top of the woodpile on my back, with the bike landing on top of me, then skidded off the side onto the ground, the bike now tangled around my twisted and bleeding legs. I was winded and not able to breathe or speak. The pain was intense and instant. I remember hearing my sister running up behind me to see what had happened. She said “I’ll tell Mum,” and rand off toward the house. I lay in agony waiting for my mother to come and tend to my wounds. And I kept waiting. But no one came. Finally, I managed to pull myself free and limp home. I came through the kitchen dripping blood onto the floor. My Mum exclaimed: ’What happened to You! Are you okay?”

“No,” I said. ‘Didn’t April tell you I crashed into the wood pile at the bottom of the hill?”

“No,” my Mum said. ‘She only said, ‘Mark rode his bike farther than he ever has before.”

For my sister, the main thing she took out of what happened was the fact that I had succeeded in breaking my previous record for bike riding distance. And that I had clearly made it to the bottom of the hill, meeting my father’s challenge. The dramatic crash at the end that left me broken and bleeding and tangled within my bike on a pile of firewood did not seem to have registered with her as important. I was quite upset with her. How could she not notice my pain? How could she not bring help?

All she could say was that she thought I would want our Mother to know that I made it to the bottom of the hill.

Today’s story of the healing of the lame man by the pool by the Sheep Gate is like that difference in perspective between my sister and I of what happened with the bicycle. In almost comic fashion the Jewish religious authorities, upon seeing a man who has been lame for 38 years suddenly walking and carrying the mat he had been laying on, seem to completely overlook the enormity of the miracle and the joy of the man’s healing. And this was surely the main thing they should have noticed. After all, didn’t they want to celebrate a miracle. Didn’t they believe that making the lame walk was one of the sign that the Messiah had come?

But the only thing that seems to have caught their attention was that the man was carrying his mat. And as no burden was allowed to be carried on the Sabbath, and the authorities of the day had included bed mats on the list of things that were a burden to carry, the man was clearly in violation of the rules.

Sometimes we become so focused on some minor point or get hung up on some rule that we lose sight of what is most important.

In many ways we are all like both the man who was lame, who seems to have forgotten why he was going to the miraculous pool every day in the first place when someone came along and asked if he wanted to be healed. He only complained about the unfairness of not being able to get to the pool first after the water was stirred. And the religious leader in the temple couldn’t see that a miracle had occurred. That a man’s life had been transformed. That this could be a sign the Messiah had at last come. All they could see was the offending mat.

So what things in our lives have we become hung up on? What things have we become so conditioned to see as important that we fail to see what God is doing in our lives and in the lives of those around us?

Perhaps we are overly concerned with some political issue and this is all we see. Perhaps we have become so convinced that Christian faith is about behaving in a certain way or following certain rules, that like the religious leaders in the temple, we completely miss the big things God is doing before our very eyes. Or perhaps, like the lame man, we have become so accustomed to things not going our way, and so upset about the unfairness of it all, that when Jesus offers us his love we take no notice and keep on feeling sorry for ourselves.

Today’s Gospel story points once again to who Jesus is: God in human flesh who has come to live among us. But it also reminds us to open our eyes to see what God is doing in us and around us, and not be so caught is so many other petty concerns that we can no longer see the bigger picture of God’s love active in our lives and in our world.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

‘When belief becomes faith

4 Pentecost 4
John 4:43-54

John is very sparse in his miracle stories. He includes only seven of them. And unlike the other Gospel writers, he does not call them miracles, but signs. What is important, for John, is what they point to.

You will remember the first of the seven ‘signs’ that John recorded was the turning of water to wine at the wedding in Cana. It was, and remains, in the view of many, a rather odd miracle for Jesus to begin his ministry with. But remember, the point is that it was chiefly meant to be a sign. And while many have wondered over the years what was really the point of rescuing a poorly planned wedding celebration, the sign performed was no ordinary miracle. Many prophets and others, through the power of God, had performed miracle of provision of food or water, great acts of healing, even reviving the dead. But the Jewish understanding of miracle also included a category of the miracle of creation. Of making something that did not exist before. This was a miracle that in the biblical record, only God could do. So when Jesus begins his ministry with turning water into wine, instead of healing a blind person or raising someone from the dead, it might seem rather understated to us. But for those who understood the symbolism, it was a clear message. This was no ordinary miracle worker. This was God himself. No one else could create wine when there was nothing but water to begin with.

And now John comes to what he indicates is Jesus’ second sign. But, of course, we know it is not. John himself makes a point of telling us that Jesus had performed many signs, or miracles, in Jerusalem.  What John means is that this is the second sign that he wants to tell us about. Like the first one he relates, it is symbolically important. And once again, it takes place in the little Galilean village of Cana, not far from Nazareth where Jesus grew up.

So here is the background to the second miracle or sign in Cana.

John begins by telling us that Jesus is heading back to Galilee from Jerusalem. He has just passed through Samaria where he encountered the woman at the well. He was delayed there two days teaching the people of the woman’s village. This gives time for other pilgrims from Galilee to return home, and also for news of what he did in Jerusalem (cleansing the temple, teaching with authority, performing many signs) to make it back to Galilee – including to the court of King Herod Antipas, the man who had imprisoned and then executed John the Baptist, and whose father had sought the death of Jesus as an infant.

A second point to note is that before John begins the account of this second miracle in Cana he relates that after two days in the village of Sychar in Samaria Jesus continued on from Jerusalem on his way to Galilee. Then John adds this comment, ‘because as Jesus himself had said, a prophet has no honour in his home country’ (v. 44). Now this is interesting because the other three gospels have this same saying. But in each of them it takes place when Jesus is being rejected either in Nazareth or in Galilee more generally. But John turns this around.

In John’s account Jesus is leaving Jerusalem where he had taught and done wonders, and has been rejected. He has just been accepted by a town of Samaritans, and now he is on his way to Galilee where the text says ‘the Galileans welcomed him, since they had seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the festival, for they too had gone to the festival’ (v. 45). And, of course, the story of the sign that comes is further evidence of his being accepted, not rejected, in Galilee.

Many have wondered whether John has made a mistake here and somehow misplaced this saying of Jesus. The explanation is rather to be sought in the emphasis John puts on Jerusalem and the temple throughout his Gospel. As the Messiah, the descendent and heir to David, Jerusalem is Jesus’ true home and country. And it is in Jerusalem, John wants to point out, and not in Galilee, where Jesus was not accepted. So what takes place next is also part of the case against Jerusalem and the authorities there.

Then John tells us that Jesus comes to Galilee. And he goes to Cana. To get there he would have had to travel past the Sea of Galilee and several major towns. And John points out that it was in Cana where Jesus had turned water into wine. So this is an indication that we might expect something to happen again here. And it does.

And now the miracle story.

There was an important official in the court of King Herod who was based in the administrative centre of Capernaum, about 30 kms away from Cana. The name used in the Greek to describe the man is basilikos, which literally means ‘little king’ and was often used of a prince or an important court official. Whether the man was a Jew or Gentile we do not know. Herod would have had both in his court. While some think him to be the same man described as a centurion, or Roman officer, in the synoptics who was also from Capernaum and had a servant who was ill, it is more likely that John is describing an entirely different incident.

The man’s son is very sick and is near death. If any of you have ever had a child who is seriously ill, then you can relate to the desperation of this man. With his influence he would have had access to the best physicians connected to the king’s court. But they could do nothing. His son was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

When our youngest child was born he was born with two-thirds of his diaphragm missing and only one semi-functioning, undersized and partially collapsed lung. Surgery was done the next day to rebuild the diaphragm. But there was nothing they could do to restore the lungs. We were told he would likely not survive more than a few days before his lung wore out from being on the highest level of the ventilator.

We were desperate. We asked every question. Explored every option. We arranged for him to be baptized before his surgery. My wife thought if the bishop did the baptism that might help. So she called him and insisted he come immediately. And he did. Like the father in today’s story, she was a very desperate and very insistent parent. Our son clung on for two weeks before his lung function began to deteriorate. I was home minding out other children and Kathy was keeping vigil when the call came. I dropped the children off at the home of friends who lived near the hospital, and hurried in to say my goodbyes to our son.

We waited with him all through the night and the next day. He did not improve, but he also has stopped deteriorating. And then his lung began slowly to strengthen and the ventilator was turned down ever so slightly. Against all odds he turned a corner. He was going to make it. But it was a horrible and frightening time in which we felt both desperate and helpless. And that is how the father in today’s story is feeling.

He is so desperate, in fact, that when he hears Jesus is in Cana, he gets some men together, and sets out immediately to find Jesus.

Now there are a couple of points that we should take note of. Firstly, how does the man know about Jesus? Jesus had just begun his ministry and the only thing he had done in Galilee before heading to Jerusalem was the turning of water to wine in Cana. It is not the sort of occurrence that would likely have been taken note of in King Herod’s court. What is more likely is that reports had preceded Jesus’ return to Galilee. During the two days Jesus lingered in Samaria, messengers surely would have come to King Herod’s court to report that a Galilean preacher had made a big scene in the temple, casting out all the money changers, and had performed many miracles. This would have been of special interest to Herod and his officials who had only recently dealt with the last troublesome Galilean preacher, John the Baptist. So this court official likely had only in the past few days, that is, after the onset of his son’s serious illness, heard of Jesus of Nazareth.

The second thing to note is the risk the man was taking in going to Jesus. His boss, King Herod, had arrested and then executed John. The same John who had pointed to Jesus as his ‘successor’. Now Jesus, who many were saying was John the Baptist come back to life, perhaps to see justice and vengeance against Herod, was seemingly picking up where John had left off. It is unlikely that Herod would have been pleased for one of his high officials to go to Jesus for help. And it is very unlikely that the man had sought Herod’s approval. His son’s life hung in the balance. He was willing to deal with the consequences of his going to Jesus later.

When the man finds Jesus, he does not ask him to come and help his son. He begs him.

Jesus responds to the man using the plural for ‘you’, hence speaking to the entire crowd, including his disciples. ‘’Unless you see sings and wonders you will not believe.” This is not a promising response for the desperate father, but he persists.

‘Sir, come down to Capernaum before my little boy dies!’

Then Jesus says, ‘Go. Your son will live.’

And the man believe the words Jesus spoke to him and starts for home.

And this is interesting. The father did not ask for proof. He did not ask how Jesus knew his son would live. But he believed Jesus was telling the truth and started straight for home, so eager was he to return to the side of his son. But it was already afternoon and he would not make it back that night. So he camps with his men along the way and gets up to continue the journey early the next morning.

At the same time, back in Capernaum, something both remarkable and unexpected has happened. The fever left the boy who was near death. And some of the man’s servants were so keen to tell him the good news that they left immediately to head for Cana, for they knew where their master had gone and why.  They likely would have met up along the narrow, rocky path through the hill country of Galilea sometime just before noon the next day. The man’s servants share with him the good news and he rejoices. Then he asks the question, ‘When did the fever break?’ And they tell him that is was about 1 p.m. the previous day, the very hour in which Jesus had said to him, ‘Your son will live.’

Now this is the key point to this miracle story and the one we often overlook. It is why the man went from believing the words Jesus said to him about his son, to he and his whole family believing in Jesus himself.

A prophet or soothsayer could perhaps predict that someone might recover from a serious illness. And as Jesus was clearly something along those lines from all reports the man had heard, and he said with such confidence that his son would live, the man believed his words.

But when he learned that his son suddenly recovered at the very time that Jesus had said he would, it was immediately apparent that Jesus and not successfully predicted his son’s recovery. Jesus had caused it. He had healed him. This was a whole other level from simple prediction. Not only that, but he had done so from a distance. There was no precedent for this.

And this is the point John wants to make. It is why this is one of only seven miracles of Jesus he chooses to tell us about. Like the changing of water to wine, it is not a spectacular miracle. There was nothing for the crowd present to see. But it is a sign of who Jesus is. In all the biblical miracle accounts, healings and other miracles only take place when the one God is working through is immediately present. There are no healings or miracles at a distance. But Jesus heals this boy from thirty kilometres away. In this second sign we see once more that in Jesus we are not simply dealing with a miracle worker or a prophet, even a very great one. Something much bigger is happening here. God himself is living and acting among us.

And so the man goes from believing the words Jesus has spoken to believing in Jesus.

And that is the challenge still for us today. Jesus speaks wise and good words. We have many of them recorded in the Gospels. We can easily believe Jesus is the speaker of truth, without really believing in Jesus himself. It is the difference between knowledge and faith. The desperate father understood that his son would live. He understood that Jesus spoke the truth. The next day he came to have faith that Jesus was God in flesh, and he and his whole family became followers of Jesus, despite the risks.

And the challenge and call is that we too move from simply believing what Jesus says to believing in who Jesus is for us. May we move from a knowledge about Jesus to faith in Jesus – as faith so strong, that like the father in the story we cannot help but to tell our family and friends about Jesus.

May we go from looking for a miracle, like the father in the story, to understanding that Jesus is the miracle. God in human flesh, come to dwell among us.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

Too important not to share.

May the grace and peace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be with you always.  Let’s join in a word of prayer: Lord God, You know all there is to know about each one of us.  You reveal all that we need to know about You to receive salvation. We gather here in fellowship to receive your living water, and to be reassured of your great love for us.   We worship You and we praise You for this great love.  Guide our time together so that we may be encouraged by your message for us. Gracious heavenly Father, hear our prayer in the name of our risen Lord Jesus.  Amen.

A while back, a Mercedes-Benz TV commercial showed one of their cars colliding with a concrete wall during a safety test. After viewing this advert, someone from the press asked a Mercedes engineer why their company didn’t enforce their patent on their car’s energy-absorbing car body. The Mercedes’ design had been copied by almost every other car maker in the world in spite of having an exclusive designer’s patent.

The engineer replied in a clipped German accent, that I couldn’t copy, “Because in life, some things are just too important not to share.” (King Duncan, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com)

 What a great statement. ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

      As Christians we believe that the good news of Jesus Christ is one of those things that is too important not to share. We accept that Jesus Christ should be shared with our friends, our neighbours, the world. The work of sharing the good news of Jesus Christ is simply witnessing our faith. Most often we do this with our attitudes, our words and our actions that quietly demonstrate our faith as we live our ordinary lives. But faith in a Saviour who is anything but ordinary.   

      At times, Christian faith has been advanced more intentionally by people who were willing to step outside of their comfort zones to witness the good news of Christ.  Even with our best efforts to make a difference with our witness, I want to reassure that we are not always going to get it right.  And that is OK.  God can use what we give to his purpose and advantage.

     John gives us an example of the pattern for witnessing the good news of salvation by our faith in the Son whom God sent.  If we remember, last week we spent some time with Nicodemus.  A man in the know, accustomed to being at the heart of things in the Jewish world.  A leader of the Pharisees, and a person of learning.  When Jesus spoke to this reluctant believer, it made all the difference for Nicodemus. ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

     This week, in John’s Gospel, we spent some time with the very opposite of Nicodemus.  An unnamed Samaritan woman, accustomed to being on the outside of society.  Being controlled by the various men in her life, and serving at the whims of chance.   

     When Jesus spoke to her, she showed unexpected wisdom, and Jesus made all the difference in her life.  ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

     Nicodemus came to Jesus with uncertainty, to discover the source of his authority in the world. Jesus explained that his source is the Holy Spirit,  a mystery that eludes human understanding.

     The Samaritan Woman came to the well with a certainty born of pain.  Then Jesus spoke to her and awakened within her an excitement held captive by circumstance.    

     In our lives, whether we come to Jesus with a certainty of our circumstances, or the uncertainty of our future, Jesus makes all the difference.  We can approach our Saviour in the words of Scripture, the gift of the sacraments, or even the quiet prayer and praise in all the times of our lives.

     Like Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman could only relate the words of Christ Jesus to the human experience of life.  Remember, when Jesus confronted the inquiring spirit of Nicodemus with the words,  “no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit,”? Nicodemus’ immediate reaction was to plant this reality next to the human experience of being born in blood and flesh.  And to raise a new question.  “How can this be?”

     When Jesus shared with the Samaritan woman, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give will become a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  Applying this eternal truth against her human experience, she said to Jesus, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

     In dialogues with both Nicodemus and the Samaritan Woman, the questions raised seem to be left without answers.  But Jesus reveals himself as the answer:  ‘the way the truth and the life’.  ‘The very thing that is just too important not to share.’

     So often, when we confront Christ Jesus with the questions that plague us, it seems that he is silent in our presence, as he reveals himself as our answer:  our way, our truth, our life.  And that reminds us that we are so often asking the wrong question.     President John F. Kennedy in his inauguration speech, said some famous words, “Ask not what your country can do for you.  Ask what you can do for your country.” 

In  the dialogue with the Samaritan woman, we might hear the unspoken words of Jesus, ‘Don’t ask to be given living water.  Rather believe in the Messiah who has come, and receive the living water of the Holy Spirit, by faith in me.’

     Jesus approached her with an intimacy that speaks of friendship, of compassion, of understanding.  How refreshing that must have been for her.  In response to this witness from the source of light and life, this unnamed Samaritan woman returns to her village and witnesses the Good News of the Messiah that they were waiting for.

      It is significant for me that she left her water jar behind.  Far more concerned about the living water that Jesus offered her. And that made all the difference for this remote Samaritan village. After all ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

Because of her witness, pagan and Jew alike came  to Jesus and believed in him. As John writes, ‘Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.” So when the Samaritans came to Jesus, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days.   And because of his words many more became believers. 

 They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”’   When important things are shared, we might suspect that no one really cares.  But the Holy Spirit can take the things we share and use them to make a difference.  We may never know the result of the kindness we share, but this woman at the well saw the result.

In our daily lives, we follow the patterns of work and responsibility, of leisure and rest, with maybe even a bit of time for Scripture and prayer.    

But we rarely expect to encounter Jesus, interrupting our routines.  Confronting us with ultimate concerns over life and salvation.  Calling us to be his witness in our small corner of the world.

And yet, God’s Holy Spirit seems to choose the most awkward times to engage us.  Just as Jesus did with the woman at the well.  

It seems so exciting and yet unsettling, when Jesus takes time from his eternal care and kingship over the entire creation, to dialogue with us individually. Through thoughts and intuitions that almost seem foreign to our human nature.  And yet, God in his eternal presence in the world always has us in his sight, and always cares for us. 

This is a mystery that will intrigue us until we are with him in eternity.  Even from his cross, Jesus thought of us.  “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing!”   and “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”  Jesus was speaking to every repentant sinner, every faith-filled believer, every inquiring mind, when he spoke these words.

And yet, we shouldn’t be surprised.  In those times when we most need a reassuring word from someone, Jesus speaks to us.  He speaks through the Scriptures, through our intuition, through our quiet moments of prayer, through our friends and family.  He speaks with the same intimacy, friendship, compassion and understanding.    

Jesus has much to teach us in this encounter.  We can come to understand that our witness in this broken world is important.   But it is the Holy Spirit of God, who touches the hearts and minds of people through even our simple witness, and through the word of God, and through sacraments.  That makes all the difference in our lives and our world.  So, it is true that  ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

May the grace and peace of God, which passes all our human understanding, keep our hearts and minds in the calm assurance of eternal salvation in our living Lord, Christ Jesus.  Amen.

Rev David Thompson.

‘The Good Pharisee’

John 3:1-21

As soon as the today’s text begins with, ‘There was a Pharisee …’ we know where this is going. The Pharisees, a group of very devout and quite legalistic experts in the Hebrew scriptures, are regular foils for Jesus in the Gospels. They always come to him with some sort of flattery, then try to lay a trap for him. We have no reason to expect anything different here. But this Pharisee is different. He really does want an answer to his questions – for personal reasons.

His name is Nicodemus. And he was not just any Pharisee. He was a wealthy and influential man, a highly regarded teacher, and one of the few Pharisees who served on the Jewish ruling council in Jerusalem known as the Sanhedrin.

And he comes to Jesus as night. For this act he is forever known. When John introduces Nicodemus twice more later in his Gospel he is always referred to as the one who came to Jesus at night.

Most of us think we know why he came at night. At night, of course, it is harder to recognise people on the street. There is less chance that Nicodemus’ visit to Jesus will be noted and reported to any of his Pharisee friends or his students. And perhaps this was, in fact, the reason he came by night, or at least part of the reason. But if Nicodemus really wanted to have a serious conversation with Jesus, the evening is when he would have come. Firstly, the crowds would have gone and it would be easier to have a private conversation. And secondly, the Pharisees taught that the evenings were the most appropriate time to have serious conversations about theology when the business of life had dissipated and there was time and space to think. So there might have been a very practical reason for Nicodemus to come at night, to find Jesus at home and away from the crowds. He may also have wanted to indicate to Jesus that this was not a set up or shame discussion to try to trap him, but that he really did want to have a serious conversation with Jesus.

Nicodemus would have come to Jesus at some personal risk to his own reputation. So it would have been more than mere curiosity that brought him to Jesus that night, early in Jesus’ ministry.

It seems clear that Nicodemus had a question. And it was a big one. One that kept him up nights. One that he came to suspect that Jesus might be able to answer.

But what was that question?  Ironically, Nicodemus never gets to ask it. Jesus ‘answers’ him immediately after Nicodemus’ polite greeting and his recognition that Jesus must have come from God because of the many ‘signs’ he was able to perform.

But perhaps Jesus’ answer to Nicodemus, which has become both very famous and also much misunderstood in the history of the Christian Church, suggests what Nicodemus’ question was. Perhaps it was Jesus’ way of showing Nicodemus that he knew already exactly what was on his mind, and in his heart.  We read in Luke 17:20 that the Pharisees asked Jesus, ‘When is the kingdom of God coming?’  They expected, as did most Jews of the day, the coming of a literal, physical kingdom. But this coming had seemed very long delayed. And the Pharisees had come to believe that God would not bring the kingdom until the people all did the right thing – or at least enough of them did the right kind of things. So as a man who had committed his life to teaching about the kingdom of God, and who very much desired to see it come, Nicodemus wanted to know from Jesus – from this man who clearly had been sent by God, just what needed to be done to see the kingdom established. That is most likely the question Nicodemus came to ask Jesus.

But as Jesus often does, he anticipates the question, and takes Nicodemus very quickly beyond it to something deeper and more personal.

Jesus answers Nicodemus: ‘Truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being reborn from above.’ (v. 3).

Jesus has now set the tone of the conversation. Nicodemus most likely wanted to know what the people as a whole needed to do to see the kingdom established. Jesus makes the question very personal. He tells Nicodemus what he (or any other individual) must do if they wish to see the Kingdom of God. And it is not what Nicodemus was expecting. It was not any level of good works, or enough people keeping the law, or even the people taking matters into their own hands and beginning an uprising against Rome – for all of these were common ideas at the time for how to hasten the coming of God’s promised Kingdom and the promised Messiah who would usher in the kingdom.

Jesus instead tells Nicodemus that he must be born again, or reborn from above. The language used is deliberately open to more than one interpretation. The Greek word an-o-then that John uses here could mean ‘born again’ as it came to be initially translated into English. But it could also mean ‘born from above’ which makes good sense in light of the many references to ‘above’ in this text. Or Jesus may well have meant both at the same time, hence the translation I prefer: ‘reborn from above’.

In any event, Nicodemus takes the literal meaning and ends up an impossible image. And this is far from surprising if he has come to Jesus with a question about how to see a literal, physical kingdom of God established on earth. That is where his mind and thinking is at. So taking the more literal option, he ends up with a rather ridiculous image in his mind and asks Jesus how it can be possible that he or any other grown person could enter back into their mother’s womb and be born once more. His almost comical misunderstanding then becomes the foil for Jesus to explain what he means in more detail.

So what do we and Nicodemus learn about what it means to be reborn from above in order to see God’s Kingdom? I think there are three main points to be gleaned from Jesus’ words to Nicodemus about being reborn from above.

First, the experience of rebirth from above is a personal one. It is not about what the whole population must do for God’s kingdom to come, it is about what we must experience in order to be a part of God’s kingdom. In Nicodemus’ age there was a tendency to think more communally. So this may have been a difficult concept for Nicodemus to understand. But for us in the modern world, with our emphasis on individualism, this aspect of Jesus’ teaching on what it means to be reborn from above is easier to understand. Jesus is talking here about a personal and transforming experience of God.

Second, it is a rebirth of both water and spirit. ‘No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of the Spirit is spirit (vv 5-6). There are two meanings here: First, there is physical birth and spiritual rebirth. We do not need only to be physical beings, born and living in the world. We must also be reborn spiritually. But there is also unmistakable baptismal imagery here. While these story pre-dates Christian baptism, we must remember that John is writing for an audience steeped in the practice and symbolism of baptism, in which baptism with both water and the Spirit is one divine action (from above). Jesus is probably, once more, referring to both, indicating two different levels of meaning here.

Finally, the rebirth Jesus is speaking of is ‘from above’. This means it is something that God does, that God initiates. It is not our work. Jesus seeks to explain this to Nicodemus in his illustration of wind (or Spirit of God) blowing where it choses and in ways we cannot predict. This is the point we have most understood. In the recent history of the church the movement of ‘born again-ism’ has arisen based on this text. And it’s emphasis has been on what human beings must do. It has been used to press people to make a decision. But ironically, the text is making the exact opposite point. Not that there is no personal component of a human decision. There clearly is. But the point here is that the experience of being reborn is something that originates from above, that comes through the free and unpredictable movement of God’s Spirit. Being reborn from above is a profoundly human experience. But it is not a human work.

The dialogue with Nicodemus ends and the voice of John the Evangelist comes through, explaining further point being made. And it what would seem clearly to be the voice of the narrator explaining the significance of these words, we find the famous John 3:16, in which John reiterates that the whole action begins with God’s love for the world. We do not hear anything further about Nicodemus in this story.

So what happens to Nicodemus? Does he finally get it?

Well, yes he did. John mentions him again in 7:45-52 when there is plotting again Jesus by the chief priests and Pharisees (apparently at a meeting of the Sandhedrin), and the question is asked if any Pharisee has ever believed in Jesus. Nicodemus cannot remain silent but is not yet able to commit. He argues instead for a ‘fair hearing’ for Jesus, and is intimidated into silence when asked if he too is one of Jesus’ followers. So at that stage, Nicodemus is not yet there.

But then Nicodemus appears again in John 19:39, together with a man named Joseph of Arimathea. They come forward publicly to Pilate to claim Jesus’ body, and to do the anointing rituals and place him in a tomb. With the disciples in hiding, the masses having abandoned him, and everyone assuming his cause is lost with his death, Nicodemus comes forward publicly as a follower of Jesus.

Why then?

Well, I think it had something to do with the famous conversation with Jesus that occurred almost three years earlier. When Nicodemus asks, ‘how can this be?’ or ‘how can this come about?’ referring to being reborn from above through the power of the Spirit, Jesus reminds him of the story of Moses and the bronze serpent in the wilderness. In the same way, Jesus says, when the Son of man is lifted up, whoever believes in him will have eternal life. I think that when Nicodemus saw Jesus lifted up on the cross, he remembered these words – words he had been pondering ever since Jesus had spoken them. He understood at that point exactly what Jesus had been referring to and all doubt in his mind about who Jesus was disappeared. It didn’t matter that Jesus was now dead. Nicodemus came forward publicly as one of his followers.

In the same way, Jesus calls each of us to follow the Spirit’s call upon us, to allow God, from above, to make us new, to be reborn through the waters of baptism. The process might be complex and far from straight-forward, as was the case with Nicodemus. But process and time frames are not important. What is important is whether we, like Nicodemus, in the end open our eyes to the Kingdom of God through the work of God’s free Spirit working in us ‘from above’ to make us his children.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

Trinity Sunday

Trinity Sunday

John (8:56-59) 10:22-42

For the second time within the space of three months Jesus is in Jerusalem for a festival and he is again found at the temple teaching. The first occasion is recorded in John 8. It was October and Jesus was in the city for the Feast of Booths and was teaching in the Temple treasury. In the context of a discussion about Abraham he made one of his strongest statements yet about his divinity. When questioned as to how he could know anything about Abraham, for Jesus spoke of him as if he knew him personally, he responded by saying; ‘Before Abraham was, I am.’  ‘I am’ was the name that God revealed to Moses when he asked his name. Jesus knew Abraham because before Abraham ever lived, Jesus was the one true and living God, the ‘I am’. And this is certainly how the Jewish authorities and the crowds interpreted him because they picked up stones to stone him (a brutal form of execution practiced at that time, but Jesus slipped away.

Now it is December, early winter, and Jesus is back in Jerusalem for another festival, the Festival of the Dedication of the Temple, known today as Hanukkah. This time he is teaching in a different part of the Temple complex, in the portico or colonnade of Solomon. In effect, it was a massive covered walkway that ran along the entire eastern side of the Temple and could hold at least 30,000 people. So it was a great place for big gatherings, or big speeches.  In today’s text, which takes place in Solomon’s colonnade, we find a very close parallel to what happened during Jesus’ October visit to Jerusalem. Again, he there for a festival, again he is teaching in the Temple, again he is asked about his identity, again he makes a very strong statement about his divinity, again the crowds and authorities take up stones to kill him, and again he somehow slips away.

As we have seen, John likes to revisit themes to make a point. In this second similar story we have the same sequence of events but a more detailed account of what takes place.

A representative of the crowd, likely one of the religious leaders, interrupts Jesus to ask: ‘How long will you keep us in suspense? Just tell us plainly whether you are the Messiah or not.’

Of course, the reader of John’s Gospel will be scratching their head at this request, because Jesus has been telling them plainly who he is from the beginning. And John presents this more clearly than the other Gospels. There is no secret to Jesus’ identity in John’s Gospel.

So we a little amused when Jesus gives the obvious response. ‘I have been telling you, and you do not believe.’ Then Jesus goes on to explain that not only has he told them that he is the promised Messiah, but that he has showed them. He has shown them who is his by his deeds. He has done the things that it was long prophesied the Messiah would do. And while many had begun to believe in him, few among the religious leaders and authorities had – at least not openly.

So Jesus loses patience. He tells them that they have not understood because they are not his sheep. He has just finished telling the story of the shepherd and  the sheep, and how the sheep hear the shepherd’s voice and follow the shepherd. So they would have immediately understood what Jesus was saying to them: that they, the leaders of the people, not only didn’t understand, but never would. Because they did not belong to the Messiah’s flock.

This comment would have made no friends about the religious authorities amongst the crowd gathered around Jesus. But things were about to get worse.

They did not understand that Jesus was the Messiah, even though Jesus had been telling them and showing them plainly. Now Jesus repeats that he is more than simply the Messiah. He is God come to them in human flesh. The last time he had said this to them plainly, during his visit two months earlier, they had tried to kill him. So at this point, everyone knows where this conversation is going. But Jesus goes there nonetheless. No one would be able to say later that he never told them exactly who he was.

‘I and the Father are one,’ he says to them bluntly. It is as clear and bold a statement as what he had said during his exchange with them in October at the Festival of Booths: ‘Before Abraham was, I am.’

Jesus did not leave any doubt as to his true and full identity. The Messiah was never meant to be just a great prophet, or another great king. The gulf between God and humans had become too great to healed by a great prophet or king. Something more was needed, much more. God himself needed to come among his people. And that was the big surprise about identity of the long-awaited Messiah. If the religious leaders had read carefully the texts about the Messiah they would have noticed the time that God said that he himself would come to his people, that he himself would be their shepherd and their king. (For instance, Exekiel 34)

So here is Jesus telling the religious leaders, once more, just who he is. And they respond the same way as they did the last time. And it is important that John records this. In both cases some might say that Jesus never meant to claim to be God. But the reaction of crowds and the authorities show that this is exactly what Jesus meant, and that they understood him very well.

In this account from today’s Gospel text Jesus engages the crowd before he slips away. He stops them, stones in hand, and asks if they can tell him for which of his good deeds, which of his healings, they are going to put him to death. This slows them for a moment, but not long. Soon someone retorts that they are not going to put him to death for any of his miracles, but for claiming to be God.

There is a clear dig here at the religious leaders, for in the previous chapter they were very upset that Jesus had healed a blind man on the wrong day, on the Sabbath. They were even angry at the man who had been born blind. And they wanted to arrest Jesus and put him on trial for his crime. So the truth was that they were, in fact, upset that he was healing people. But they were not about to admit as much in front of a crowd of witnesses. So they jump to the bigger, more serious charge of blasphemy, of claiming to be God.

But Jesus continues to engage them, quoting  Psalm 82:6 that would have been well-known and regularly sung in Temple and synagogue worship. It says that God says to his people, ‘I have called you gods, children of the most high, all of you.’ So if God can call people gods, how can the one who is sent by the Father, and in fact is one and the same as the Father, be accused of blasphemy. Then Jesus reiterates the point he made about his relationship with the Father, explaining further that, ‘the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’

This gave his listeners quite a bit to think about it. And as they were discussing a response, and trying to organise themselves to arrest Jesus, he once again slipped away. And he left the city and went to the countryside, on the other side of the Jordan, officially outside of Israel, to the rural area where John the Baptist had preached. And there many ordinary people believed in him.  So John ends this story with a contrast between the religious leaders and experts gathered in the temple in the capital city, who should be the first to recognise the Messiah when he comes, and the simple people of the country-side who first heard about Jesus from John the Baptist. This contrast not only puts the religious leaders to shame, but it demonstrate that it is neither impossible nor even hard to grasp the truth of who Jesus is and to accept it – that is, for those who had ears to hear, for those who were a part of his flock.

Now, in looking at this account and similar ones, you might be wondering why the religious leaders of Jesus’ day were so reluctant to accept that he was the promised Messiah? It seemed that there was nothing he could so or say that would convince them. Were they not, after all, the ones who made their whole lives and careers out of leading the people as they waited for the Messiah to come?

Well, that was perhaps a big part of the problem. Fyodor Dostoeysky, in a story within a story in his last novel, The Brothers Karamazov, imagines Jesus coming to earth again. But this time to Spain during the period of the Inquisition. Of course, Jesus is arrested and tortured by the Inquisition on behalf of the church that is supposedly waiting for Jesus’ return. Finally the Grand Inquisitor himself comes to meet Jesus. And what he says is a surprise.

‘It is You! … You!’ … Receiving no reply, the Inquisitor rapidly continues: ‘No, do not give an answer; be silent! … And what could you say? … I know but too well your answer…. Besides, you have no right to add one syllable to that which was already uttered by you before…. Why should you now return, to impede us in our work? For you have surely come for that purpose alone. But be aware of what awaits you in the morning? I do not know how or in what from you have returned; but tomorrow I will condemn and burn you on the stake, as the most wicked of all the heretics …’

The Grand Inquisitor in Dostoeysky’s story knows exactly who Jesus is. And that is why Jesus needs to be stopped. His coming again would ruin everything. It would put him and his team and the whole church out of business. So the problem of the Grand Inquisitor isn’t that he doesn’t recognize who Jesus is, but he cannot afford to accept who he is.

I think something similar was a play on the part of the religious leaders of Jesus’ day. They made much about sharing their peoples’ hope for the coming of the Messiah. But deep down they knew that if the Messiah did actually come, they would be out of business.

Another question that arises from this text has to do with the identity of Jesus. Just who is Jesus, anyway? He is clearly the Messiah, the promised one. But he is also more than that. Remember how John began his Gospel with the big spoiler? ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God … and the Word came and made his home among us.’ Perhaps we had nearly forgotten this extraordinary claim at the beginning of John’s Gospel, as we became engrossed in the story of Jesus that unfolded. But now, it comes up again. The mystery of the Messiah isn’t just that he is the shepherd and king who comes to rescue the lost of all nations, but he is God in human flesh. God has been walking and serving among his own creation in the person of Jesus. And now Jesus has told the Jewish leaders bluntly, for yet a second time in as many months, who he is.

For the Christian community that was gathered and empowered by the Holy Spirit after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, this required a bit of thought. They had worshiped God as Father, but now Jesus tells them clearly that he himself is the ‘I AM’ who existed before Abraham was born, that he and the Father are one., that they dwell within one another. And then the Spirit of God is sent by the Father and Son (as we saw Jesus explain in last week’s text) on the day of Pentecost.

This led the church to confess that there is indeed only one true God, but that this God has manifested himself to us in three persons who are distinct yet remains one God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This ‘tri-unity’ of Father, Son and Spirit came to be known simply as the Trinity (which is short for tri-unity). It is in large part because of the statement of Jesus in today’s Gospel reading, and what we saw of the coming of God’s Spirit when we celebrated Pentecost Sunday last week, that the church came to celebrate on the very next Sunday, the Trinity – the fact that our very complex God comes to us as Father, Son and Holy Spirit – yet remains one God. A tri-unity of persons.

So Jesus reveals himself plainly as both the Messiah and God in flesh. But the religious leaders cannot understand or accept who he is. But Jesus’ sheep, who he calls and gathers by the power of the Holy Spirit from all the world, hear his voice. We recognise who Jesus is and follow him: Jesus the Messiah, God himself come to us in human flesh to make us one with him.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

‘The Holy Spirit is all about Jesus’

Pentecost Sunday, 2024
John 14:15-18,25-26; 15:26; 16:5-15

Today is Pentecost Sunday. It is the third biggest day on the Christian calendar after Easter and Christmas. But it doesn’t get anywhere near the attention as those two celebrations do. How often, for instance, are you asked if you are going anywhere for Pentecost this year? Or, what you are having for Pentecost dinner?  Doing anything special for Pentecost this next week? 

For one of the big three major Christian festivals, it seems to come in a rather distant third. Perhaps it is because we have always been a bit perplexed about just who the Holy Spirit is and what the Spirit does. The birth of Jesus and his resurrection of the dead are concrete events that we can imagine. But what is the coming of the Spirit? The word ‘spirit’ means breath or wind, and it is God’s breath coming upon us. But how do we portray that? The Spriit of God is referred to early in John’s Gospel by John the Baptist as ‘descending upon Jesus like a dove.’  And so we often use the image of a dove to portray the Spirit. And in Acts 2 the Spirit is said to have descended on the followers of Jesus like tongues of fire. So we sometimes use the image of a flame to portray the Holy Spirit.  But while images of doves and flames give us some useful symbols, they do not tell us much about what the Spirit does. When asked that question, we have to think hard. It is not an easy question for us. And perhaps that is why this important celebration seems a bit subdued compared to Easter and Christmas. How do you celebrate that which cannot be seen – that which cannot be easily understood?

Jesus knew that his disciples would find the coming of the Holy Spirit not just overwhelming, but difficult to understand. We have read the account to that day in Jerusalem, just 10 days after Jesus ascended to the Father, that the Spirit came upon them. It was quite an event. It was a day that none of the disciples could have imagined. And it was a day never to be repeated. Though its impact would echo through the centuries. They disciples were all proclaiming the resurrection of Jesus to the crowds in the city that had gathered from all over the world. And in a literal reversal of the story of the Tower of Babel, everyone suddenly understood them and were convinced they were speaking their own language. It was like something out of science-fiction. Like the Babel fish of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, or the Universal Translator of the Star Trek series. Except there was no science fiction back then. So even in their wildest imaginations the disciples could not conceive just what was happening.

That is why Jesus tells them about the Holy Spirit before he leaves them. They are the words John records in the today’s Gospel reading. So when on the day of Pentecost the Spirit came upon the disciples in great force, like tongues of fires, they were able to comprehend the gift that Jesus had given them. They would have recalled and begun to understand what Jesus had told them when he was still physically present with them.

Jesus had not left them.  Jesus was their friend and advocate. The one who was on their side. And now the Holy Spirit would be fulfilling that role on his behalf. The Holy Spirit had come upon them at Jesus’ request and would guide them. He would lead them into truth, remind them of the words of Jesus, would open the hearts and minds of all those whom God would have follow him.

And so they understood that the true power of the Spirit is not the spectacular display on the day of Pentecost. That never happened to the disciples again. That was a miracle of confirmation, to show everyone gathered in the city that the message of Jesus was one of power and truth. The true power of the Spirit is to be found in the simplicity of the Spirit’s task: to remind us of who Jesus is and what Jesus has done for us. To remain with and in us and to lead us continually to the truth. And what is this truth? For those who have been following John’s Gospel we know the answer already. Jesus is the truth. The Spirit tells us about Jesus, reminds of what Jesus taught, dwells in us as Jesus himself dwells in us, helps us to understand who Jesus is, and helps us to tell the world about Jesus.

When I was going this text in John’s Gospel in preparation for today’s sermon I was struggling to find a good summary of who the Holy Spirit is and what the Holy Spirit is all about. So my wife read the text and said, ‘It seems to be all about Jesus.’ And then I realised that that was, of course, the point. I was trying to find something new and remarkable about the Holy Spirit from these words, but they simply keep coming back to Jesus. And that is exactly what this text is telling us. That is the true power and the true focus of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is not about himself. The Holy Spirit is all about Jesus.

The Holy Spirit comes to point us to Jesus. And perhaps that is why we find it hard to describe just who the Spirit is and what the Spirit does. Because the Holy Spirit doesn’t come to tell us all about who he is and what he is like. The Spirit instead comes to point us to Jesus. If we try to make the Holy Spirit about something other than Jesus, we have missed the point. If we try to make the Holy Spirit into some kind of supreme show master, performing great miracles and signs on demand, we miss the point. If we think the Holy Spirit is all about us, about making us special through some spectacular gift or gifts understood apart from Jesus, we have again missed the point.

We have missed the point because the core of what the Spirit does is greater and more important than any of these things. The main task of the Spirit is more powerful than any of these things. The Spirits lead us continually to Jesus. Look closely at the words Jesus spoke to his disciples about the Spirit. ‘When the Spirit comes he will not speak on his own, but will speak what he hears. He will speak on my behalf,’ and again, ‘the Spirit will glorify me,’ and again, ‘The Spirit will take what is mine and give it to you.’

In fact, Jesus says of the coming of the Spirit that he will not leave us orphaned, but will send us another Advocate. Jesus says that with the coming of the Spirit he himself is coming to us.

So when we think of the Holy Spirit and what the Spirit does and our thoughts should return again and again to Jesus and the power of his message, to the comfort of his presence, to the victory of his death and resurrection. When this happens we are beginning to understand the true power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit did not come to us to gain his own following. He is not in competition with the Father and the Son for ‘likes’. He did not come to give us gifts to be used to impress our friends or so we could feel important. The Spirit came to point us to Jesus. He came to give us gifts that would help us to proclaim and serve Jesus.

And that’s why the Holy Spirit is important. That’s why the coming of the Holy Spirit marks the beginning of the Christian Church. That’s why we celebrate the coming of the Spirit on Pentecost Sunday. That’s why we recognise the Holy Spirit as the third member of the Trinity, together with eh Father and the Son (more on that next week!).

On the day of Pentecost the Spirit came in spectacular tongues of fire. The Spirit allowed everyone to hear the message about Jesus in their own language. That was the start. But just because we do not see visible tongues of fire today, just because you are not hearing this sermon in your native language, if that is different than English, that does not mean the Spirit is any less active. The Spirt was never about putting on a big show, but simply about helping us to see Jesus.

If you want to know if the Spirit is still active today. If you want to know if the Spirit still works in you today, then think about those times when you have been nudged toward faith when you couldn’t explain why. That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

Think about those times when you have been drawn to the message of Jesus when you weren’t even looking for Jesus. That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

Think about those times you have been led to be in the right place, or to say the right thing, to help someone else understand Jesus. That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

Think about those times when against all natural and more selfish motivations, God has led you down a different path than the one you had wanted to follow. That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

So do not worry if you have trouble explaining exactly what or who the Holy Spirit is. If you understand who Jesus is for you, then the Spirit has already been at work in you and continues to be at work in you.

And may God’s Spirit go with you and continue to comfort you in your faith in Jesus. May God’s Spirit continue to confirm in you the truth of Christ. May God’s Spirit continue to give you the words and courage to tell others about Jesus.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.