Divine Entanglement

All Saints
John 17:20-26 

In another life I studied quantum theory at the University of Regensburg in Germany. It is a much more interesting field of study than many might imagine. But I have to admit, when I turned my attention to theology, I didn’t think I would be finding much use for quantum theory again. Then I read today’s text.

But before we get to that, I need to explain a couple of basic points about quantum mechanics for those of you who may not have been paying close attention in Year 10 science.

Firstly, quantum mechanics looks at the interactions of particles at the sub-atomic level, much as classical physics looks at the laws that govern the interaction of matter on the large-scale level.

As we know, everything material that exists, like air, water, stars, trees and us, are made up of distinctive combinations of atoms. Water, for instance, is simply a collection of molecules made by combining two hydrogen atoms with one oxygen atom. H2O. That seems pretty straight forward.

But what takes place within these various atoms is something quite remarkable. Electrons orbit around a nucleus that composed of protons and neutrons. And these subatomic particles are again formed by even smaller fundamental particles such as leptons, quarks and bosons. But the really interesting thing is that matter seems to relate and act differently at the subatomic level than at the large-scale level.

Just a few points that you may recall from those long-gone days in science class. Sub-atomic particles appear to act as both a particle and a wave. This means we need to look at them as being both at the same time to understand how they work.

And here is another interesting point. These particles/waves are connected in ways that are hard for us to fathom. For instance, Albert Einstein (who you have all heard of) together with Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen (who you have probably never heard of) put together the famous EPR thought experiment in 1935 seeking to show that quantum theory really didn’t make sense. But they appear to accidently have gotten it right. Some decades later laboratory experiments not possible in the 1930s showed that what they proposed was actually the case. Basically, it was shown that particles that are split remain somehow connected and in communication even at great distances. So if a particle has a total spin of 0 and it is split, and one half of the particle is measured or made to have a ½ right spin, the other half of the particle, even if it is kms away or even on the other side of the galaxy, will instantly have a ½ left spin to balance it out. And this information between particles is transferred faster than the speed of light. Which according to classical physics is not possible. And yet it happens. Einstein was not happy about this and called it ‘spooky action at a distance’ which is not a technical scientific term, but it is easy to remember.

Another famous scientist of the time, Erwin Schrödinger (famous for his Schrödinger’s cat thought experiment) looked at the whole phenomenon of how subatomic particles are both wave and particle at the same time, and are somehow connected even after being split, even if they are half a universe away. He called the whole scenario quantum entanglement. And that became the technical term.

So this is the point. At the most fundamental level of reality, everything is completely entangled. That’s the way God made our universe. There are connections and actions that defy our understanding of time and distance, and of wave and particle. Everything is so inter-connected to everything else at the foundational sub-atomic level that traditional categories of space and time cannot explain the depth of these connections. And this, in a nutshell, is what is called quantum entanglement.

Now, back to today’s Gospel reading.

This is the only substantial prayer of Jesus that we have apart from the Lord’s prayer, which is more of a template. In this prayer we have a glimpse into the heart and deepest concerns of Jesus as he was preparing for the cross.

The first thing we notice in today’s text, which is the final part of his prayer, is that Jesus is praying for us.  ‘I ask not only on behalf of these here, but also on behalf of those who are yet to believe in me through their word.’ Think about that. Jesus prays for all those who are yet to believe. That’s us.

That alone, if nothing else sticks in your mind from this text, should bring comfort and peace. Jesus prayed for us – for you and me today.

But what exactly does he pray for? He prays that we might all be one. And in his prayer he reveals something of what this means. He does this by revealing who he is in relation to the Father and who he is in relation to us.

Jesus does this through the repetition of key words and ideas. It is something we find often in John’s Gospel. The key themes repeated in the next few verses are unity, love and glory. Like elsewhere in John’s Gospel, we find that these words and concepts are not simply repeated, but recur in every changing configurations that continue to fill out these key concepts.

For instance, in the case of the theme of unity or oneness we begin with Jesus’ wish that we might all be one. The foundation of this idea we then find is that Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in Jesus and that all of us who believe in Jesus are in this unity of Father and Son. Likewise, Jesus says, that he is also in us, and the Father is in him. And in this way Jesus says we are becoming ‘completely one’ so the world will see and know that the Father loves each of us just as he loves Jesus.

So the love that flows from Father to Son and Son to Father is the same love that flows to us, and between us. And we learn that this has been the case since before the physical world was founded.

And this famous prayer of Jesus finished not with an ‘amen,’ but with these words: ‘I made known your name to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.’

And that is the end of the prayer. Jesus concludes with the desire that the love of the Father which flows into the Son, with whom the Father is one, will also flow into us, and that Jesus will also be in us just as we are in him.

So now, and in the future, and from before time began, love and unity flow between Father and Son, and between the Son and us, and between us and the Father, and between all of us. And the glory of the Father is also the glory of the Son. And in following Jesus we reflect this glory back to the Father and we experience and see this glory ourselves.

Now, if that all sounds impossibly complex and interconnected, that is exactly the point.

This text sounds a lot like the situation of quantum entanglement that underlies all physical reality.

Perhaps we might call this divine entanglement. It is description of the complex interconnectedness which underlies all spiritual reality.

It makes sense that a God who creates a physical world so completely and mysteriously inter-connected or entangled would also produce a spiritual reality no less complex and interconnected.

But you might say, ‘This is all too complicated. How can we ever understand what Jesus is describing in this prayer? ‘

I would like to suggest that that is not the point.

Let’s think again about the world of quantum physics. Some time ago at a conference on the relationship between science and faith, I was asked how to tell if someone actually understood quantum theory, as there were (and still are) so many competing and contradictory explanations and understandings about what actually takes place at the quantum level.

My answer was that I could not tell them how to tell if someone understood quantum theory, but I could tell them how to tell if someone did not. This got their attention.

The simple test, I said, was that anyone who says they understand how the quantum world works, has no idea what they are talking about.

In the field of quantum mechanics, it is well known that basic principles, like uncertainty, action at a distance, wave particle duality, and entanglement work in practical application. But it is also well-known that no one really understands how or why these principles work.

Similarly, on the spiritual level, we do not know just how it is that Jesus and the Father and the Spirit are one. Nor do we fully understand just how we are one with Jesus and with each other. Or how he is in us and we are in him. Or how love and unity flow in every possible direction between Father, Son, and believers, or how all this is both still being ‘made known’ and has at the same time been true since before the foundation of the world.

But we know that it works. We know that if we think of the relationship of Father and Son in this way, and of our relationship with both Jesus and Father in this way, and the relationship that we have in unity and love also toward one another, that it works.

Understanding how it works is not a prerequisite for it working.

But if such things are too complex for us to understand, or at least fully understand, then why does Jeus bring it up? Why does Jesus pray in this way? And why does John record this complex prayer?

The reason is because John’s Gospel is about knowing who Jesus is as God, and about who we are in Jesus. It is about knowing what it means to be one with Jesus, who is also one with the Father. John’s Gospel is about the mutual circle of love between Father and Son, and between us and Jesus, and among one another.

So Jesus, in this prayer, is describing the reality that we are completely entangled in divine love and unity and glory. We may not understand the complexities of how it works any more than we are able to understand the complexities of the quantum world.

But we know that it works.

We know that we are safely entangled in the love of Jesus. We are bound up in unity with him and with the Father and with the Spirit. We are entangled and inextricably connected to all those who are also entangled in Christ’s love.

This divine entanglement that begins and concludes in the person of Jesus and in our relationship to him is not a mystery to be solved. It is a truth to take comfort in.

In Jesus, God has entangled us in his love, and in is very being. And we do not need to fully understand how this works to know that there is no better place to be than fully embrace and entangled in God’s love.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

I am the true Vineyard.

24 Pentecost
Reformation Sunday
John 15:1-11

These words of Jesus are spoken to his disciples in the context of the Last Supper, of his last meal with them. The context is important, not just to the Lord’s Supper imagery of the grape vines and wine. Jesus is about to go the cross. He will not have another chance to speak with his disciples before his death. In this passage, the words he speaks are meant to comfort and to encourage. In a sermon on this text Luther says that if we do not hear comfort in this text, then we have missed the point. Luther pointed out that Jesus himself took comfort in these words. The reason is that they remind him and us of who he is. First in relation to the Father, and second, in relation to us.

But before we come back to this –  I want to point to a recent development in how we should translate this text. significantly, the word translated vine is this passage, ampelos, is the classical Greek word for vine, but it has come to mean vineyard in modern Greek. And the word used in classical Greek to me branches, klaemata, has come to mean vines. In Homer’s time ampelos would have just been vine. By 600 CE if would have only been vineyard. Only in the last few years have scholars bothered to look into just when this change came about. They found that already in Aesop’s Fables, 250 years before Jesus, it is used as vineyard, though in the translation of the Hebrew Old Testament, 100 years before Jesus, it was used still as vine. Significantly, in the book of Revelation, it is clearly used to mean vineyard. So the word was in transition at the time of Jesus and at the time of the writing John’s Gospel. More formal writing tended to use another form for vineyard, namely ampelon, and the language of the common people tended to use ampleos, which is the word in our text today that is traditionally translated vine. But which did John intend? Well, a big clue is the phrase in verse 2, ‘he removes every branch in me that bears no fruit.’ The word removed does not mean pruned but means uprooted or pulled out. This is what one does to a vine, not a branch. So we have translated eh word awkwardly as removed to give the impression of pruned, so that it will fit with our perceived interpretation of ampelon. Also, if Jesus said he is the true vineyard, this passage makes more sense in light of the two songs of vineyards in Isaiah. (More on this later). So Jesus most likely said, ‘I am the true vineyard.’ It also makes more sense to remain ‘in’ a vineyard than to remain ‘in’ a vine. In any event, whether Jesus is the vine and we are the branches, or whether he is the vineyard and we are the vines attached to it, the meaning of the passage is little changed. So don’t lose sleep over this one!

In these words (whether vine or vineyard) we have the seventh and final of Jesus’ famous ‘I am’ metaphors.  We have already learned that Jesus is the ‘Bread of Life’ (6:35); ‘the Light of the World’ (8:12); ‘the Door’ by which the sheep enter the sheepfold (10:9); ‘the Good Shepherd’ (10:11,14);  and ‘the Way, the Truth and the Life’ (14:6).

And now Jesus tells us that he is the true vineyard.

He has given us another metaphor to help us to understand who he is. And he uses it twice. Once in relation to the Father, and once in relation to us.

Jesus first tells us, ‘I am the true vineyard, the Father is the grape grower.’ The vineyard imagery of the Old Testament, especially of Isaiah and its two vineyard songs, are very much in mind here.  There Israel is the vineyard, but God is disappointed. They have not born fruit.

In contrast, Jesus is the true vineyard. The hope connected to Israel, especially hope for salvation to be extended to all the world, finds its fulfilment not in a nation, but in a person. In Jesus. He is the true vineyard. And God the Father is the farmer who tends the vineyard. It is the Father who prunes us so that we will grow stronger and bear more fruit.

Ancient vineyards were well tended and cared for. They were smaller affairs than the commercial vineyards we often see today. They were often enclosed by a stone wall. They were regularly weeded and pruned and watered. They were not just a source of income, but a source of great pride.  And Jesus tells us that he is God’s true vineyard.

Then Jesus repeats the metaphor. But this time he points to his relationship to his disciples and to those of us who would later follow him. Jesus says, ‘I am the vineyard and you are the vines.’

It is important and a comfort to know that Jesus is the vineyard. As vines, we live and grow and flourish within the vineyard, within Jesus. Our lives and our being are contained within Jesus and flourish within him.  That is what is means when Jesus says he is the vineyard and we are the vines.

Finally, this text is about abiding, or remaining in Jesus. The word translated to abide or to remain is used 11 times within 11 verses. This is a literary device we have seen previously in John’s Gospel, for instance with the words testify and testimony, in which he repeats a word multiple times in close succession, with slight alterations in the meaning and context with each repetition. This is John getting the reader’s attention. This text is about us remaining in Jesus and him remaining with and in us. And this thread of remaining in Jesus underscores the theme of comfort that so struct Martin Luther when he read this text. Luther said in a sermon nearly 500 years ago that ‘whoever views this comforting image rightly and believes will be bold in facing whatever troubles we encounter in our lives.’ And by the way, this is Reformation Sunday, so there was always going to be an obligatory quote from Luther in the sermon!

On a more sensitive matter, some of you might be concerned about the phrase in verse two that the Father removes from the vineyard every vine that does not bear fruit. It sounds like a warning. What if we do not bear enough fruit? To this question we first need to point out that the theme of the text is about remaining in Jesus, not about the possibility or fear of being uprooted. Jesus himself in verse 11 tells us the purpose of the words he has just said. ‘I have said these things to you so that my joy might be in you and that your joy might be complete.’ This image of the vineyard and the vines not only brings comfort, but Jesus intends them to bring joy. If we focus on the fear that we might be uprooted, then these words of Jesus have not had the effect he intended. Because of our human weakness, our tendency to fall short and to worry that we are not good enough before God, we are prone to worry that we could be uprooted if we do not meet our spiritual KPIs.

But this is not the intent of the image of Jesus as the true vineyard or of this text. The text states several key realities for those who follow Jesus. We remain in Jesus. We remain in the vineyard. We remain in Christ’s love. And in remaining in Jesus we are Jesus’ disciples, and we do bear fruit. And in this Jesus has great joy, and the Father is glorified. These are statements of fact in the text. The text is not only about who Jesus is as the vineyard, but it is also about who we are as the vines within that vineyard. True, there will some pruning, through the hearing of his word. But this is necessary if we are to bear even more and better fruit. But the point is that we are in the vineyard. That is why we are being pruned. And the Father watches over and protects us. Jeus loves us, and we remain in his love.

The reference about vines that do not bear fruit being uprooted is indeed a warning. We should never be presumptuous about God’s grace. But given that Jesus calls himself ‘the true vineyard’ it seems that this statement is meant to contrast the vineyards of Isaiah that did not bear fruit. Israel as a nation did not do justice, they did not bear fruit. So the true vineyard has come in the person of the Messiah.

In summary, this is what we learn in this text and what we learn about Jesus as the true vineyard.

  1. We learn who Jesus is in relation to the Father and in relation to those who follow him. Jesus is the vineyard that the Father loves and keeps. And Jesus is the vineyard in which his people are kept safe as vines.
  2. We have also seen that the theme of this text is not about leaving the vineyard or warnings about being uprooted. The theme of this text is about the reality of our remaining in the vineyard, remaining in Jesus, remaining in his love. The repetition of the word ‘remain’ 11 times in these verses makes this emphasis clear. And because we remain in Jesus, we are his disciples and we will bear fruit – even if we do not always see it clearly and even though all of us will need regular pruning to help us bear fruit.
  3. Finally, Jesus says these words to his disciples on the night before he will go to the cross. He says these words to bring comfort and joy. By remaining in Jesus, by remaining in the vineyard, we have his joy, and that joy is complete.

And these things all fit together. To follow Jesus means to be a vine in his vineyard under the Father’s care. It means that we have his love. It means that we will bear fruit. And it means that this brings joy to Jesus and that his joy becomes our joy.

There is no better place than to be within God’s vineyard. There is no better place than to be within Jesus.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

God’s repetitive grace & mercy

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

The verses we will focus on today is from John 12:44-46 – And Jesus cried out and said, “Whoever believes in me, believes not in me but in him who sent me. 45And whoever sees me sees him who sent me.46 I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.

Have you ever noticed that politicians seem to repeat themselves?  They say the same thing over and over again. One well-known line is “let’s make it great again.” Whatever ‘it’ might be.  There is a perception that to form a good habit you need to repeat it for 21 days.[1] 21 days on that new diet, giving up alcohol or even coffee. Unfortunately, a recent study by the University of Chicago found that there is no magic number.[2] That 21 days of repetition is now much longer.

I don’t know about you, but when I read the gospel reading from John today, I shook my head.  I thought, haven’t we heard all this before?  What’s with all the repetition? Why is John going over the same stuff thing again and again? Isn’t there something new, fresh and exciting he could be telling us? However, what might seem unusual on first read is quite purposeful.  John is reminding us of God’s grace and mercy on repeat. Maybe he knows about the study from the University of Chicago.

The reading today opens with Jesus departing to an unknown location.  This doesn’t make sense until we look at the prior chapter (see verses 35-36) where Jesus tells the crowd that he will be here for a little while longer. In the last two verses of the previous chapter, Jesus uses “light” and “darkness” 8 times. Jesus is telling the crowd about his impending death which ultimately leads to God’s grace and mercy on repeat for us. When he will turn “darkness” into “light.”

Commentators divide today’s reading into two main areas.

  • Verses 37-43, with focus on “blind unbelief,” and the question of “Who has believed?”[3],[4]
  • And verses 44-50, which is about the “divine sending” with an “inescapable judgement.” [5],[6]

One commentator calls this chapter the “Epilogue of Jesus’ Ministry.”[7] It’s interesting to look at the meaning of the word “epilogue” which is the end that serves as the conclusion to what has happened.[8]  Appropriate really, given this is the last time Jesus speaks publicly before he hides himself away, before his persecution and death.

You may recall last week Pastor Mark focused on the blind man receiving sight (see John 9:1-12).  Where Jesus calls out:

  • the “night is coming, when no one can work” (John 9:4). The forecast of darkness.
  • And we hear an “I am” statement of Jesus being the “light of the world” (John 9:5).

But the Pharisees and the people closest to the blind man didn’t see, nor did they believe. Jesus goes on to tell them that they remain blind, and in sin. The people remained bound by their lack of faith.  This is a similar message to the crowd in John’s gospel.  Despite Jesus performing not just a sign, not a few signs, but “so many signs, they did not believe in him” (v37).  They were stranded in their unbelief.

This makes me wonder, with so many signs repeated by Jesus, why didn’t they believe?  Why didn’t they get the message?  Well, John tells us.  It was to fulfil what the prophet Isaiah said. John retells Isaiah 53:1 by asking, “Who has believed our message…?” And the answer is, no one. Jesus is rejected by the crowd. A rejection that plays out over and over in John’s recount. And plays out in the world around us today.

Then John takes us to Isaiah 6:10, where we are reminded of people’s calloused hearts, dull ears and closed eyes. Where seeing and hearing, are linked with the act of believing and following God.[9]  This repetition is to remind the people that they have heard this before.  It is a familiar story.  It has been shared from generation to generation.  Repeated, over and over.  They should have remembered.  But they didn’t.

This is where John shifts things a little. After repeating a section of Isaiah 6:10, John shares that God “blinded their eyes and hardened their hearts, so they can neither see with their eyes, nor understand with their hearts …”(v40). What? God hardened their hearts, and they couldn’t hear the good news that Jesus was sharing. That seems harsh, doesn’t it? I thought the whole point of Jesus being there was to bring the message to them. And now they can’t hear it. This doesn’t sound like our God.

Moving to verse 42, we are told that “at the same time MANY even among the leaders believed in him. But because of the Pharisees, they would not openly acknowledge their faith for fear they would be put out of the synagogue.” They did not believe because they were scared of what other people might think.  They valued the opinions of others and their position in the synagogue over professing their faith. They placed their value in human wealth over eternal glory.[10] Their nature of unbelief, sown by Adam and Eve, rooted deep within their hearts.[11] 

I don’t know about you, but this again seems familiar.  A repetition of what we’ve heard before in Exodus. We can recall Moses and Aaron begging Pharoah to let the Israelites go. We are reminded of how Pharoah hardened his heart. How God brought devastation. And we see it repeat, over and over until they are set free. Until God’s grace and mercy shines through.  We learn that placing value on worldly things, such as position, power, and image, as Pharoh did, ultimately leads to death.

So, is God in the business of hardening our hearts?  Of closing our ears so we won’t hear the good news of Jesus our saviour. The answer is a resounding no. As John reminds us in verse 43 “for [the crowd] loved human praise more than praise from God.” They loved earthly things which they freely chose over God. God allows and we freely choose. We succumb to the desires deep in our hearts. We desire the ‘more,’ which shines and makes us stand out. These things ultimately blacken our hearts and draw us away from God. Just like the people in today’s text, our free will condemns us to death.

And what is the response of God?  His response follows in verse 44-50.  Jesus was sent down to Earth as a divine sacrifice.[12] Jesus is sent as the sacrificial lamb and faces an “inescapable judgment.”[13] God places his mercy and grace on repeat.  Why? For you. For me. To set us free from the bondage of our sin. To shine a light on the path to eternal life.

Listen. You can hear Jesus cry out from today’s text:

  • I have come for you.
  • I have come to save you.
  • I haven’t come to judge you.
  • I have come to lead you to eternal life.
  • I have come to be a lamp on your feet and a light on your path (see Psalm 119:105).

He cries out for us to see and hear. To listen to what he is saying. Yet we don’t listen, and we don’t see.

Today we have the benefit of knowing what happens in the story of Jesus Christ. John is foreshadowing what is to come. That the Messiah, the “suffering servant” is here. Taking our sinful nature upon himself and shouldering the pain of rejection to the cross. Where he nails it there.  Where it is no longer remembered and no longer a burden. It is in this moment we find hope in Jesus’ redemptive love.  Where God places his mercy and grace on repeat.

And how good is this hope?  That we know the truth. That amongst all the darkness in Gethsemane there is light. An eternal light. And everything points to God.

Yes, we repeatedly fail in life. Each week we come to church seeking forgiveness. Each week we are showered with the blood of Christ and washed clean. We say we won’t do it again.  Seconds later we walk out the door and mess it all up.  We head out into the world and fall to our sinful nature.  To the gossip, lies, or maybe something else. We try to justify it by saying ‘it was only a little white lie,’ or ‘no one was going use it.’ But we can’t justify it.  For in God’s sight, they are all equal.

Luther struggled with the same thing. Often, he spent hours confessing the smallest of sins. Some may say trivial, but not to Luther. He wanted to be sure that nothing separated him from God’s grace. On one occasion he received absolution and no sooner did he walk away and was overcome with the feeling of pride. He fell into sin. He failed.[14] And so Luther repeated the cry of forgiveness.  And God met him with grace and mercy, on repeat.

God knows how messy our lives are. He knows that we are broken, and we will fail. He knows we will reject him. And despite the rejection, ridicule and disbelief, he still reaches out the hand of grace to his creation. Our loving God is as close as our next breath. He has never left us. And when we turn away, he draws in closer. He says “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me” (Revelation 3:20). God’s awesome grace and mercy, always on repeat.

 Amen.

Let us pray. Lord God, our heavenly Father. Thank you for your repetitive grace and mercy.  May we be encouraged to extend grace and mercy to those around us.  Amen.

References:

Barclay, William. The Gospel of John : Chapters 8-21. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1975.

Beasley-Murray, George R. John, Volume 36. Zondervan Academic, 2018.

Clavin, Whitney. “No Magic Number for Time It Takes to Form Habits.” California Institute of Technology, 17 April 2023. https://www.caltech.edu/about/news/no-magic-number-for-time-it-takes-to-form-habits.

Crossway Bibles. ESV: Study Bible: English Standard Version. Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Bibles, 2016.

Ford, David F. The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2021.

Solis-Moreira, Jocelyn. “How Long Does It Really Take to Form a Habit?” Scientific American, 24 January 2024. https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-long-does-it-really-take-to-form-a-habit/.

The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. “Lutheran Theology of the Reformation | Teaching the Faith.” Lutheran Reformation, 2024. https://lutheranreformation.org/theology/.

University, Cambridge. “Epilogue.” Dictionary.cambridge.org, 2024. https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/epilogue.

 

Worthing, Mark. Martin Luther: A Wild Boar in the Lord’s Vineyard. Northcote, Vic: Morning Star Publishing, 2017.

[1] Jocelyn Solis-Moreira, “How Long Does It Really Take to Form a Habit?,” Scientific American, 24 January 2024, https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-long-does-it-really-take-to-form-a-habit/.

[2] Whitney Clavin, “No Magic Number for Time It Takes to Form Habits,” California Institute of Technology, 17 April 2023, https://www.caltech.edu/about/news/no-magic-number-for-time-it-takes-to-form-habits.

[3] William Barclay, The Gospel of John: Chapters 8-21 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1975), 131-133.

[4] David F. Ford, The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2021), 246.

[5] Barclay, The Gospel of John, 134-136

[6] Ford, The Gospel of John, 248.

[7] George R Beasley-Murray, John, Volume 36 (Zondervan Academic, 2018), 215.

[8] Cambridge University, “Epilogue,” Dictionary.cambridge.org, 2024, https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/epilogue.

[9]  Ford, The Gospel of John, 248-250.

[10] Ford, The Gospel of John, 248.

[11] Barclay, The Gospel of John, 133.

[12] Barclay, The Gospel of John, 134-136.

[13] Ford, The Gospel of John, 248.

[14]Mark Worthing, Martin Luther: A Wild Boar in the Lord’s Vineyard (Northcote, Vic: Morning Star Publishing, 2017), 27.

Spiritual blindness and spiritual sight

Pentecost 21
John 9:13-41

 When I was in my final year of undergraduate studies at university I volunteered to read books onto audio cassettes for the blind. Because I was a religious studies student, I was assigned an unusual reading partner. A large African American man in his early thirties named Keith, though everyone called him ‘Bear’. Bear had a passion for reading the theological works of the 17th century English Puritans. For some odd reason, almost none of these were on audio for the blind. So I would read from the treatises and commentaries of John Owen, Richard Baxter, Thomas Brooks and others that most people had never heard of. I would record hours or reading onto audio cassettes and then drop them off to Bear. He would listen to them, then arrange to meet up afterward to discuss them.

For a man born blind, Bear got around remarkably well. He would often take a taxi to our apartment, then find his own way up. Sometimes we would meet there. Other times we would head out to a nearby café.

Bear was very good at being blind. He was expert at pretending not to see and notice things. When a waitress at a café once asked him what it was like being a black man in largely white town he acted puzzled. ‘What is black?’ he asked, explaining that he could not see so had no conception of colour. He made the poor girl explain the entire concept of race to him, asking one question after another, curious to find out what this concept of ‘black’ meant and why it was important. In the end, the girl admitted that it probably really didn’t matter. He let the girl get back to her work. ‘I think she learned some things today,’ Bear observed. ‘I think that conversation could be a turning point for her. She is seeing things differently now.’

And so I learned that just because a person is blind, does not mean they cannot see. It does not mean they have little insight or understanding of what is going on around them. In fact, quite the opposite is often the case. Those who are blind or deaf often have very heightened senses in other areas and are able to pick up on many things that most of us simply do not notice.

The blind man in today’s story was like that. When I read of him, I think of my old friend Bear. Because the man was blind and sat most days collecting alms so he could survive, people underestimated him. The Pharisees certainly did. They soon found out just how much this man had been seeing and observing during his life of blindness.

In fact, the first thing we notice about the man born blind is that he trusts Jesus, even though he knows little about him apart from what he might have heard from the conversations of those passing by. When Jesus takes the rather unusual step of spitting on the ground and rubbing the mud and spittle into the man’s eyes, he does not protest. When Jesus asks him to make his way to the pool of Siloam and wash his eyes, he again does not protest, but obediently makes his way to the pool. Was that faith? Trust? Was it something in Jesus’ voice, or what he had heard about Jesus?

Whatever the reason, the man did what Jesus asked, without any explicit promise from Jesus that he would be healed if he did this. But healed he was. The blind man washed his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he saw. Things he had only ever imagined, colours and shapes, things in the distance – and people. He could see them all. In great excitement he returned to his friends.

He could hardly wait to show them that he could not see. But they are in disbelief. They think it is merely someone who looks like him, and he has to convince them it is him.

Then he is taken to the temple and the Pharisees, as was the custom when a miracle is being claimed. It needed to be officially verified.

The man patiently explained exactly what Jesus did. He would have been very much aware that the treatment with spittle, the making of clay and the ordering of him to walk more than he was allowed on the Sabbath were all serious Sabbath violations in the eyes of the Pharisees. But he explains it all as if there is no problem. Afterall, the main point is that he was blind and now he can see.

The Pharisees then want to know what the man has to say about the one who healed him. His answer is careful. ‘He is a prophet,’ he says.

The Pharisees were hoping the man would condemn Jesus as a sinner for working on the Sabbath. Frustrated, they try another tack. They bring in the man’s parents hoping to find he is not their son or that was not born blind. This would solve their problem. If the parents, perhaps out of fear, fail to clearly identify their son, or fail to affirm that he was born blind, then there is no miracle.

But the parents affirm that the man is their son and was born blind. Then they pass the matter back over to their son. He is of age, they insist. Ask him what happened.

The Pharisees call the man back in. He continues to play dumb – which they quite happily accept.

‘Why do you want to know all this again?’ he asks innocently. ‘Do you want to become Jesus’ disciples?’

They are offended and go off on a rant about the man and about them being the disciples of Moses. They point out that Moses they know, but they know nothing about this man Jesus.

They have said enough. The man stops pretending to be dumb as well as having been blind. He springs his trap and lets them have it.

‘Imagine that,’ he says, with sudden confidence. ‘The first person to open the eyes of a blind man in the history of the world, and you have no idea who is he or where he comes from.’

‘We know,’ they retort, ‘that God does not listen to sinners.’

‘But,’ says the man who was born blind, ‘if this man were not from God he could do nothing.’

And on this point he had them. This was their own theology thrown back at them. Only by the power of God could someone do such a deed. And they have just declared Jesus a sinner. So, completely out of arguments, and bested by a man born blind who they had not taken seriously, they did the only thing they could – they threw the man out of the temple.

And that’s when Jesus reappears in the story. For a miracle story about Jesus, the longest miracle story in the Gospels, Jesus has been missing since verse 7. Now, 28 verses later, after the man’s healing, his meeting with his friends, and his various interviews with the Pharisees in the temple, Jesus reappears in the story. But even though physically absent. Jesus has always been at the centre of this story. The debate with the Pharisess, like the previous chapters of John’s Gospel, have been all about the identity of Jesus.

Jesus heard that the Pharisees had thrown the man out to the temple and so he finds him.

And now Jesus brings out the real point of this story. Jesus asks the man if he believes in the Son of Man, which is a term used to refer the Messiah.

‘Tell me who he is,’ says the man, ‘and I will believe in him.’

Jesus says, ‘You have seen him and it is he who is speaking to you now.’

Jesus has chosen his words carefully. It is the first time the man has seen Jesus. Jesus was not present when he opened his eyes. But the man knew his voice. And now he has seen Jesus. And Jesus tells the man that it is the Messiah he has seen.

And here we see genuine spiritual sight. The man does not ask any questions. He does not require any further proof. He recognises Jesus not just as the Messiah but as God in flesh. He calls him Lord, confesses belief in him, and worships him.

Jesus commends the man for his spiritual sight, pointing out how much he truly sees even though he has been blind up until that day. Jesus contrasts this with those who claim to be able to see, but cannot see who Jesus is.

Some Pharisees, who likely followed the man who had been healed of blindness out of the temple, interrupt. ‘Surely,’ they ask Jesus, ‘You are not talking about us?’

And the fact that they ask this question indicated that they knew very well that Jesus was talking about them.

It would be better, Jesus told them, if you were indeed blind. But because you claim to be able to see, because you claim to know all about the Messiah from scripture, you have no excuse.

Genuine sight, the sight that matters, Jesus points out, is not about seeing shapes and colours and sunsets – as nice and beautiful as these are. It is about seeing God among us. It is spiritual sight that this story is ultimately about.

So the question for us is this: Do we see Jesus? Do we really see him? Do we see him for who he is? Do we God in flesh, who has come to live among us and to offer us light and life?

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

The Conversation.

The conversation between Jesus, the rich man, and the disciples regarding salvation or eternal life has a connection to the truth of Martin Luther’s words in his commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians

Therefore, whoever knows well how to distinguish the Gospel from the Law should give thanks to God and know that he is a real theologian (Luther LW Vol 26 p115.)

 What Luther is saying is that, one way or another we are all theologians, we all have views about ourselves, the world and God. These ideas come from various sources, including importantly the culture in which we live and our upbring, our parents or those closet to us. These form the basis of our deep assumptions about our relationship, or non-relationship, to whatever we identify as God. But what distinguishes true theology from fake theology is the knowledge it gives us of the difference between God’s Law and God’s Gospel. This ability consists in, what Luther calls, the right use of the Law and the Gospel.

God’s Law confronts us with God’s commands. It constantly reminded us just how far we are from knowing and loving God. It tells us that in fact we hate God, we would rather be free of God’s commands and be the judges of what is good and evil for ourselves, as is recorded in Chp 3 of the book of Genesis. How very post-modern is that!

The Gospel on the other hand is God’s Word of free forgiveness in Christ, the covering of our waywardness and hatred of God by God’s gift of Christ’s righteousness, whereby we are set free from being haters of God’s law to embracing his will for us; in this we express our thanks and love of God for His grace toward us in Christ by serving our neighbour. Our obedience to God expressing our thanks and love is our action toward our neighbour

In the scriptures from Genesis to the Gospel of St Mark read today, we see how the difference and unity between the Law and the Gospel has a very drastic effect if they are not understood or rejected.

In the garden of Eden man (Adam/Adamah means ‘earth’ from which God created man) Adam is put amid a flourishing garden planted with all manner of edible fruits which are there for his benefit and sustenance. There is however one important proviso or exception. He must not eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. God says, if you eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, on that day, “you will surely die”. So, the fruit of this tree has fatal consequences if it is eaten. Thus, God’s command to avoid the fruit of this tree is a prohibition to safeguard and protect the Adam’s life. God’s command is life giving and life preserving. In this command God’s protective hand is stretched out over Adam. God will is obviously to protect what God has created from death, as separation and abandonment by God. God’s command therefore, concerning this tree, is a powerful promise of life and health for Adam in the garden before God.

The threat posed by the fruit of the tree, which man is forbidden to eat, is that God knows that once eaten, humans will have their eyes opened and they will have the knowledge of good and evil. For Adam this is the fatal threat that this tree poses. It promises the knowledge of good and evil. Once man has this knowledge God cannot stop the fatal consequences flowing from the decision to eat this fruit. But once the fatal step is taken Adam will become himself like God. He will possess in the knowledge of good and evil that which distinguishes the Creator from the creature. God’s act of creation consists in the establishment of that which is not God within the limits of creaturely being, creaturely being is created being. As distinct from God this limitation of the creature as created is what being a creature means, being part of the good creation that the Lord God makes and loves. God knows the creation in its earthly reality as created, limited, it is not divine, it has boundaries set by God and which God declares to be ‘good’ indeed ‘very good’.

In transgressing the commandment that is meant to save and secure the creaturely life of the creature, Adam becomes the possessor of divine knowledge; Adam become as the Bible puts it “like God knowing good and evil”. Adam wills to reject this limitation. He thus condemns himself to death, to become separated from God, ceasing to be the creature God created and becoming like God knowing good and evil and thus forever burdened with the guilt of his disobedience. Being burdened with a conscience, knowledge he should not have but which we all have.

But such knowledge, once attained, cannot become unknown. Man is burdened with it and it becomes the seed of his destruction as the creature God has made from the dust of the earth. For the creature makes the impossible attempt to be like God and therefore rejects the gracious life preserving truth of God’s command regarding the tree of knowledge. In seeking and achieving this knowledge Adam hates the limit of his creaturely being and life as the one whom God has created and wills to relate to in life preserving love. Adam insanely, instead seeks to be equal with God; man grasps the impossible possibility for a creature of being “like God”. Adam thus embraces his own death as a creature in his rejection of God’s good command to “not eat of the fruit tree of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil”. Instead of allowing God to be God and rejoicing in the promised goodness of God’s commandment towards him that wills to preserve life; Adam and all his subsequent generations hurtle headlong to destruction in hatred of God’s commandment. For Adam then, God’s command is at one and the same time life giving and death dealing. It is both Gospel and Law. In turning now to the New Testament, we come to see how Jesus’ action enlightens this dark mystery of human life before God after Adam; his rejection of God’s life-giving commandment.

In the holy gospel reading, St Mark 10, we are presented with the difference between those who are obedient and those who are disobedient to the Law as understood by Jesus, who in Himself, for our sake fulfils all the law of God not for His own sake but for ours. He assumes Adam’s flesh from Mary His mother and puts himself in the place of sinful Adam. In this conversation with the rich man, He answers once and for all of Adams descendants who is in and who is out of the kingdom of Christ. It has two main sections: one dealing negatively with the disobedience of the rich man and the other positively dealing with the nature of the disciple’s obedience.

We shall begin by trying to see the difference by looking at the second section first: meaning of obedience of the disciples. They ask Jesus, “Who can be saved”, for they are “astounded” and “amazed” at Jesus saying that it “is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than that rich man should enter the kingdom of God”. When the rich man seeking eternal life says he has kept the commandments turns away from Jesus when confronted with the meaning of God’s commandments.

Contrary to the rich man who departs and goes away from Jesus. The saying of Peter in v.28., is not contradicted Jesus. That they indeed, the disciples, have left all and followed Jesus. They have done in fact what the rich man could not do. But to their amazement Jesus does not then say that therefore they inherit eternal life, as opposed to the rich man. But surely, we may think, Jesus is over emphasising the situation of human beings before God. Haven’t the disciples done precisely what the rich man was unable to do and in so doing, leaving all and following Jesus, haven’t they by doing this shown that entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven is after all not a human impossibility.

But Jesus words in v.27 puts an end to this illusion. For Jesus says, that even they, the disciples, the seemingly obedient ones, should enter the Kingdom of Heaven is an impossibility: for men. So, Jesus’ answer to the disciples’ urgent question, “Who can be saved” is effectively – ‘No one’ can, ‘Nobody can be saved’. The disciples, standing as they do witness the disobedience of the rich man, they are forced by Jesus words to see themselves as standing on a par with the rich man when it comes to reckoning up “Who can be saved”. They are forced to see that their only hope, as it is also the hope of the rich man, that with God, “all things are possible”, and therefore even their salvation as well is possible. For this possibility of God is standing before both the disciples and the rich man in the person of Jesus, who as God’s Son is identified in his flesh with the godforsakenness of the human condition. He is God’s possibility which excludes both the rich man as well as disciples from salvation in terms of what they have done or not done: for He is in Himself not simply the divine possibility of salvation He is its actuality, the One the only One who fulfils the Law by obedience to death before God and at the same time by doing this demonstrates His unswerving love of God His Father and so fulfilling for our sake the judgement of God on all sinners and in His resurrection being justified for our sake. 

Even though it is true of the rich man that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of as needle than that he should enter the Kingdom of Heaven, this is also true of the disciples: those who have done what the rich man seemingly could and would not do. From the point of view of their own ability the disciples too lack precisely the same thing as the rich man. This is the discovery they are forced to make when, according to the text, they exclaim, “Who then can be saved!” The judgment of Jesus on the rich man, the affirmation by Jesus of the one thing necessary applies no less to the disciples.

These words of Jesus compel the disciples to see the disobedient in an entirely new light. Jesus’ harsh words directed at the rich man and indirectly to them as well, who have left all and followed Him, that they indeed are included in Jesus saying, “With men it is impossible”. With these words Jesus binds the disciples in complete solidarity with the disobedient rich man. In Jesus encounter with the rich man and in the consequent discussion the disciples are confronted with the yawning abyss of their own disobedience, the impossibility of their salvation apart from the actuality God’s grace present for them in Jesus. The presence of God’s grace in Jesus at one and the same time excludes, judges, both the rich man AND the disciples in order that those who enter the kingdom, enter only because of the gift of grace present in Jesus. Who can be saved? Nobody can be saved, the affirmation of the one thing necessary for the rich man applies no less to the disciples.

What is it then that distinguishes the disciples of Jesus from the rich man, the disobedient. The difference does not consist in their obedience, what they have done in following Jesus as opposed to the rich man’s disobedience. What distinguishes the disciples from the rich man is not who and what they are but who and what Jesus will to be for them in His call of them. In their following Jesus, their being with Him, they testify to the possibility of grace, the fact that with God, “all things are possible” and that this includes their obedience as they remain attached to Jesus who is their righteousness by grace alone, by His call of them to be with Him. They remain disciples only in so far as they continue to acknowledge this mystery to be the basis of their existence. For the conversation between Jesus and the disciples ends with the cryptic saying, “many that are first shall be last, and the last first”.

But this gift of grace present in Jesus was there not only for the disciples it was there for the rich man as well. The gospel writer adds these critical words in the context of Jesus conversation with the rich man: “Jesus”, it says, “looked upon him and loved him”. When Jesus goes on to tell him what he lacks, the freedom from his riches, he does so in order that he, the rich man, may see that Jesus is there specifically for him. Jesus’ call of the rich man to follow him and forsake his riches shows us, as in Genesis, that the command of God is life preserving and grounded in God’s love. It is that rich man, may give up what he has chosen as giving his life meaning and value, his possessions and instead receive the gift of God’s grace as that which gives his life enduring meaning. Within the hard shell of the commandment that Jesus gives the rich man is the life preserving love of Christ which he chooses not to receive. Just as in the Garden in Genesis Adam rejected the life preserving loving commandment not to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil by rejecting the creaturely limitation of his life and willing to be like God and be the judge of his own destiny.

But for who else is Jesus on the way to Gethsemane and Golgotha, none other than those who are enslaved by all that negates true human life. Jesus hard words to the rich man, the demand that he lays upon him and which causes him to turn away, this hard demand is in order that the rich man may be set free to allow himself to be loved by Jesus. This was and is purpose of the command of the law which the rich man could recite so well but did not know. The rich man can certainly reject what Jesus wills to be for him and he does so. But his actions cannot negate or overthrow the Kingdom of Christ, the fact, so poignantly stated by the gospel writer, that Jesus “looked upon him and loved him”, loved specifically him with his hard and rebellious heart.

For in Jesus God himself has taken to himself our godforsaken humanity as, condemned by the law, children of Adam, and has become the One, who as the risen crucified One promises to us the wonderful gift of His renewed transformed human life in His Word and Sacrament. Here by these means Jesus both accompanies and sustains us until our earthly journey ends in its fulfillment in Him: through death and resurrection.

Dr. Gordon Watson.
Port Macquarie.

‘The blind will see’

19 Pentecost
John 9:1-12

In todays’ Gospel reading we have the beginning of the account of the healing of the man born blind. It is the sixth of the seven miracles, or signs, that John records in his Gospel. It is also the longest of any of the miracle stories in the Gospels. Here we find John at his best as storyteller. Many recognize seven distinct scenes in this story. But we can divide the story more simply into three parts.

First, there is the account of the miracle itself in verses 1-12. Second, in verses 13-34, there is the series of interrogations, first by the Pharisees, then of the man’s parents, and finally, of the man himself again by the Pharisees. In the third and final part of the story Jesus, who has not appeared in the story since verse 7, finds the man after he had been forced out of the temple and talks to him and some nearby Pharisees about spiritual blindness (verses 35-41)

Each part of this story is important. None of the parts make complete sense apart from the others.

Today, we will focus on the miracle itself.

First, we recall the previous five miracles of Jesus that John called signs. There was the turning of water to wine (2:1-11) in which Jesus performed a miracle of creation, which only God could do. Second was the healing of the official’s son (4:46-54) which was done at a distance. Something no other miracle worker in Israel had done. Third, there was healing of the lame man on the sabbath (5:1-18) which showed that Jesus was lord of the Sabbath. Fourth was the feeding of the multitude (6:1-15) in which Jesus showed that his power far exceeded that of the great miracle working prophets Elijah and Elisha. And fifth, Jesus walks on water (6:16-21) in which he shows that he is lord of the water and other elements.

The pattern is clear. Each of the miracles have shown in distinct ways who Jesus is: not only the promised Messiah, but God himself in human flesh.

So how does this sixth miracle, or sign, fit the pattern?

Importantly, the man is born blind. If he had developed blindness, then perhaps there could be some other explanation for his cure.

It was commonly held at the time that many types of miracles and healings were possible. But not healing of the blind. The man born blind attests to this believe himself when, during his interrogation by the Pharisees, he says ‘Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind’ (verse 32).

So this was no ordinary miracle. In fact, the Hebrew scriptures attest that only God would make the blind to see. For instance, Exodus 4:11 asks: ‘Who makes mortals mute or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord?’ and Psalm 146:8 says, ‘The Lord opens the eyes of the blind.’

And Isaiah noted that the healing of the blind was a sign of the coming of the Messiah. For instance 29:18, ‘On that day the deaf shall hear … and the eyes of the blind shall see.’ 35:5, ‘The eyes of the blind shall be opened,’ and 42:7, ‘I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind.’   Jesus certainly intended to remind his disciples of this last passage when, just before he healed the man born blind, he repeated the statement made in chapter eight, ‘I am the light of the world.’

Like the other signs John records, the healing of the blind man is a very specific witness not only to the fact that Jesus is the awaited Messiah, but also that he is God come among his people. Once again, John included this particular miracle because it continues to build the case for who Jesus is.

In addition to the that fact that this miracle points to who Jesus is, there are three other aspects about the account of the miracle itself in verse 1-12 that draw out attention.

First, there is the opening of the story with the question about who sinned, the man born blind or his parents.

Second, the methods Jesus used to heal the blind man.

And third, the response of the blind man’s neighbours and friends after his healing.

First, why does this story begin with the disciples asking Jesus whether this man or his parents sinned in order to cause such a condition to fall upon him? And why would they even ask such a question?

In that day it was a common belief that if some terrible calamity or condition fell upon someone, it was their fault. Surely such a person was being punished for some sin. People wanted some explanation for evil and suffering in the world. Blaming the sufferer seemed to be a convenient way to do this. So the disciples are reflecting a common belief. But this man’s situation is complicated by the fact that he was born blind. So did God anticipate some sin of his, or more likely, was he being punished for some sin of his parents (which was also a widely held belief at the time, based upon Deuteronomy 5:9 ‘I am a jealous God, punishing children to the third and fourth generation for the iniquity of parents who reject me.’)  So the question the disciples ask seems to be a theological one.

But Jesus does not buy into the either/or argument. He says that neither is the case. Note that he is not saying that sinful actions will never result in bad things. Jesus is not making a blanket statement. He is pointing out to his disciples that things are not so simple as they might like to make them. In the particular case of this blind man, he tells them that his condition exists so that, ‘God’s works might be revealed in him.’ The man’s healing is about to become yet another sign of the coming of the Messiah.

But again, this is also not meant as a blanket explanation for the problem of evil and suffering. Jesus avoids any simplistic or one answer fits all explanation for evil and suffering. We do not find here an explanation for human suffering from Jesus. What we find is a caution not to jump to conclusions or to try to force an explanation onto every situation.

The next point of this story that will strike us as odd are the methods employed by Jesus to heal the man born blind. When Jesus healed the official’s son he did so at a distance. When he healed the lame man he simply told him to get up and walk. But now he spits on the ground, makes mud, then rubs it onto the man’s eyes. Then he asks him to go to the pool of Siloam, which is near the Temple. There is a considerable amount of ritual and action and work involved in this miracle. But we know from previous miracles John has recorded that none of this is necessary. Jesus could have simply said, ‘Open your eyes.’ So why does he do all of this?

Rubbing saliva on injured eyes was a recognised treatment of eye conditions at the time. So this is made to look, perhaps, like a physician going about his work. And making mud, even with one’s spittle, was technically considered work according to the interpretation of the law. And so was walking more than a certain distance, or causing someone else to do so.

We learn in verse 14 that this healing occurred on the Sabbath. And Jesus has done at least three things that are clear violations of Sabbath law. And none of them were strictly necessary. So we are left with the conclusion that Jesus is bating the Pharisees, the guardians of the Sabbath law. He is deliberately provoking a confrontation and creating a dilemma for them. For the first time in history they are going to see a man born blind who has been healed. But the healing itself, a clear sign of the coming of the Messiah, is done in fragrant violation of Jewish Sabbath law. This sets up the lengthy interrogation of the man who was blind as well as his parents in the coming section. So that is likely the explanation for why Jesus went through the elaborate ritual.

Finally, there is the reaction of those who knew the man when he returns from the pool of Siloam with his sight. It is one of disbelief. And this is a natural reaction. Afterall, as the man himself later testifies, never since the world began has such a thing occurred.

The neighours of the man, which might mean his literal neighbours, or perhaps his fellow beggars who sat near him, are desperately seeking an explanation for the impossible. And they soon come upon one. This man simply looks and sounds like their friend. But it is clearly not him, because their friend is blind, and this man can see. Problem solved. Except that the man who was born blind now begins to insert himself into the story. And he will become the central focus of the story until Jesus reappears in verse 35. The man insists that he really is their blind friend.

So they ask him how this is possible. He tells them that a man called Jesus (who by this stage they would all have heard about) opened his eyes. And he tells them what actions Jesus did to accomplish this.

Finally, the Gospel reading for today ends with a question. The man’s friends ask him concerning Jesus: ‘Where is he?’ The man replies that he does not know.

Perhaps they want to see Jesus themselves. Perhaps they want to ask him just what happened. Perhaps they want to seek healing themselves, which would make sense if these ‘neighbours’ were those who sat beside him begging.

But whatever their reasons, it was the wrong question. In the preceding two chapters, which related the discussion between Jesus and the religious leaders in the Temple, the focus was on the question of who Jesus is. And that is again the focus of this account.

The question the man’s friends should have been asking is this: ‘Just who is this Jesus?’ But they instead want to know where Jesus is. The man doesn’t know, and he doesn’t seem bothered by this. As the story unfolds we see that he himself is much more interested in the question of who Jesus is. In fact, his journey throughout the story is not just one of gaining physical sight, but spiritual sight. As the story progresses his understanding of who Jesus is grows.

In this first section of the story the man refers to him simply as ‘a man called Jeus.’ When he is interrogated the first time by the Pharisees in the temple and is pressed about who Jesus is he says, ‘He is a prophet.’ This is a significant step up in recognition. In his second interview with the Pharisees, he argues that Jesus is ‘from God.’ This represents a further progression in faith. And at the conclusion of the story, when Jesus seeks out the man after the Pharisees have driven him from the temple, he accepts Jesus’ revelation as the ‘Son of Man,’ a Messianic title. The man accepts this, but takes his faith a step further by calling him ‘Lord,’ confessing belief, and worshipping him – which is something reserved for God alone.

Jesus is progressively revealed, through the words of the man who had been born blind, as a man, a prophet, someone from God, the Messiah, and finally God himself.

And here is the real miracle. The man truly has had his eyes opened. He sees Jesus for who he really is.

And that is a miracle that each one of us can experience. We do not need to receive physical sight or some dramatic healing to experience the power of God in our lives. Like the man born blind, we simply need to open our eyes and see who Jesus really is.

And we, too, like the man born blind, will be transformed by the Light of the world.

Amen.

‘Before Abraham was, I am’

18 Pentecost
John 8:48-59

Have you ever been travelling or out to eat at a restaurant and bumped into a famous person? What did you do? If you got a chance to speak to them, what did you say? When I was young the most common response was to ask for an autograph. These days, the request is usually for a ‘selfie.’

You might think that if you bumped into a famous person and were able to say a few words to them that you might ask a question about their latest movie, or one of their famous feats on the sporting field, their last book or recent newspaper editorial, or their life in politics, etc.  But hardly anyone ever asks any of these things.

Our first thought instead is usually this: I need proof that I really met them. Hence the old form of the autograph, and these days the even more convincing ‘selfie.’

Perhaps this has always been the nature of people. In the Old Testament reading for this Sunday we heard part of the account of Moses meeting God for the first time at the burning bush. And does Moses ask any of those famous questions that people always say they would like to ask God if they had a chance? Of course not. He straight away thinks that people will not believe he has really met and spoke with God. So he asks for some kind of proof. And in that day and culture, before the selfie and the autograph, if you met and really knew a person, they would tell you their name. Their true name. The one that had power. The one that not everyone would know. The name that defined who they were.

So that’s what Moses did.

Moses tells God that the people might not believe God had spoken with him unless he had proof. ‘What if they ask me what your name is?’ he said.

Then we have the famous passage where God says, ‘I am who I am,’ and tell them that ‘I am sent you.’ It seems to be in part an explanation of the meaning of Yahweh, the name by which the patriarchs had known God, and which the people would have themselves known. The name Yahweh, used in this text but translated, according to custom, simply as LORD, is most often taken to mean ‘he who will be,’ or something similar. In this case, God’s own explanation is his name is not simply the one who will be, but the one who is, the ‘I am’. The one who simply is and who needs no other explanation. And it is the kind of information that Moses could only get from God himself. It is the name behind the name.

This is the one and only time in the Hebrew scriptures that God names himself. In subsequent Jewish history, the name ‘I am’ is held as the most holy and the most important name for God, because it is the name that God himself gave when asked his name by Moses.

This account of Moses meeting God at the burning bush is the background to Jesus’ dramatic statement in today’s Gospel reading. ‘Before Abraham was, I am.’

For the best part of two chapters in John’s Gospel we have found Jesus teaching in the temple during the Feast of Booths and arguing with the Pharisees. And the theme of this teaching and his arguments with the Pharisees continues to come back to the question of Jesus’s identity. Jesus tells the people that he is from above and that if they know him, then they know the Father. He has told them he is living water, the light of the world, and the truth will set them free. When the Pharisees, after all these statements, asked him ‘So who are you?’ Jesus responded by saying, ‘Why do I even bother talking to you.’ How could he make it any clearer to them?

Then the discussion turns to Abraham. We saw in last week’s text that Jesus once again argued circles around the Pharisees. So they changed the subject, or rather, simply resorted to slander and accusations. ‘You must be a Samaritan and demon-possessed,’ they claim. Jesus doesn’t respond to the accusation of being a Samaritan. It was irrelevant. And a trap. If he doesn’t deny it then he must be a Samaritan heretic, but if he strenuously denies it, as if being a Samaritan is a terrible thing, then what of the woman at the well and the other Samaritans he has taught and who have believed in him. So Jesus simply points out that he is not demon possessed, and then takes the subject back to Abraham.

Abraham died, he points out, but whoever believes my words will never see death.

Now the Pharisees think they have him. This could be a charge that could stick. ‘Do you think you are greater than Abraham? Just who are you claiming to be?’

It is the second time they have asked Jesus directly who he is. Again, Jesus tells them. But this time his answer is so direct and shocking that it leaves no room for misunderstanding.

He says Abraham, who they are proud to have as an ancestor, looked forward to his coming.

To this the Pharisees respond in mockery. You talk as if you knew Abraham. He lived many centuries ago and you are clearly not even yet fifty years old.

Then Jesus makes the strongest statement in the Gospels about who he is.

‘Before Abraham was,’ he said, ‘I am.’

There could be no mistaking his meaning.

A bit earlier in his discussion with them he has said ‘You will die in your sins unless you believe that I am,’ and again, ‘When you see the Son of Man lifted up, then you will realise that I am.’ (8:24,28). But these words could perhaps be understood as short for ‘I am the one’. But this latest statement leaves no such room for any alternate understanding.

Jesus was claiming not just to be the promised Messiah, but the Creator himself.

This is the moment John has been building to over the past two chapters.

It is the dramatic conclusion to the long dialogue of Jesus with the Pharisees in the temple. And lest the reader thinks Jesus’ odd phrase, ‘Before Abrahem was, I am’ could be understood in some other way, we are told the Pharisees immediately take up stones to throw at Jesus, executing him for blasphemy.

They understood exactly what Jesus was claiming. They knew well the story of God revealing his name to Moses.

But Jesus slips away from them and leaves the temple.

This final line in the chapter is amazing in itself. Jesus has just revealed that he is the Creator God himself, come to them in flesh. He had been with them discussing who he is in the very temple they have built for him. And now, God leaves the temple.

It is a very symbolic statement. Jesus chooses the temple, built to honour and worship him, to reveal in the most dramatic and unmistakable way possible who he is.

Moses had many centuries earlier asked God for a name that he could give to prove to the people he had really spoken to God. That name was ‘I am’. The name was never repeated in the biblical account. It was never used to validate the identity of the God who spoke to Moses. Until now.

Now God chooses to use the name he gave to Moses. He chooses to use it in the very temple built to honour and worship him. And when he does, the religious leaders try to execute him for blasphemy.

So God leaves his temple.

The reader of John’s Gospel will not be surprised to learn who Jesus is. We were told in the very opening of John’s Gospel that Jesus, the Word, was in the beginning with God and was God, and came to dwell among us. We have been shown through the miracles Jesus performs and things he says that he is God in human flesh. Jesus has said it many times in indirect ways. Now he states it bluntly.

The Pharisees and high priests finally get to meet the God they worship- and in the very temple in which they worship him.

Have you every wondered what you would do if you met God face to face? We might have some big question we had long wanted to ask. Some of us have a whole list of big questions! We might simply want to fall down in worship. But the response of the Pharisees and priests is a shocker. They try to kill him. They had not been accept that Jesus, being from Galilee, could be they Messiah. And they certainly could not accept, however many miraculous signs he performed, that Jesus is God in flesh, come to them.

So they try to kill him for his audacious claim.

But at least they react. They did not ignore Jesus’ claim.

So back to us. What do we do when we discover that God has come in flesh to live among us? What do we do when we learn that Jesus is the creator himself? We might judge the Pharisees and priests for their reaction, but many of us simply shrug and say, ‘Well, that’s interesting,’ we think, and head off to whatever we have to do next as if nothing unusual has happened.

Do we miss the life-changing and world-changing nature of what Jesus has just revealed to us? Do we miss the significance of God coming and actually dwelling among us as if were an everyday occurrence?

This is the challenge put to each one of us. We have followed the story in John’s Gospel thus far. We have seen who Jesus is through what he says and in what he does. We have been told by John form the beginning who Jesus is.

Now, we hear it from Jesus himself.

So how will we respond to Jesus’ dramatic revelation, ‘before Abraham was, I am.’

How will we respond to meeting God himself in Jesus Christ.

Will we reach for stone like the Pharisees? Will we reach for our autograph pads or our phones for a selfie? Will we pull out of our pocket our list of questions to ask God?

Or will we respond like Thomas does at the end of John’s Gospel when he finally realizes who he has been spending the last three years with. Will we say in awe and worship, ‘My lord and my God,’ and devote our lives to following him?

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

The Truth will make you free

17 Pentecost
John 8:31-47 

In today’s Gospel reading we find Jesus still at the Festival of Booths, and still at the Temple teaching and disputing with the Pharisees. Once more, he makes a statement about who he is that they completely misunderstand. And once more, Jesus argues circles around them. Jesus has just told those in the crowd who were beginning to believe that he really was the promised Messiah that if they continued down this path, and continued in his word, then they would know the truth and the truth would set them free.

But what the Pharisees heard was the implication that they were not free. And this upset them. So they jumped into the conversation. ‘We are Abraham’s children,’ they said, ‘we have always been free.’

Now, we will overlook the irony that they were at a festival celebrating being set free from several centuries of slavery in Egypt, or that their ancestors had only a few centuries ago returned from captivity in Babylon. In their view, they had always been free spiritually as Abraham’s children. And didn’t like what Jesus was implying.

So Jesus tells them that they certainly are not Abraham’s children. If they were, they would be doing what Abraham did and following God. Instead, they are trying to kill Jesus.

Then the Pharisees argue that they have only one true Father and that is God himself. And Jesus points out that if God were their Father, they would love Jesus, because he has come down to them from God.

Then Jesus suggests a third alternative as to their parentage. If they are not Abraham’s children because they are trying to kill Jesus, and if they are not God’s children because they do not love and accept the truth that God is among them, then that leaves one option. They must be the children of the devil, because he was a murderer from the beginning and the father of lies.

This stops them in their tracks, and as we will see in next week’s reading, they quickly try to change the subject.

But this whole discussion about whose children the Pharisees are is a distraction. The main topic of John chapters seven and eight to this point has been the question of who Jesus is. And that remains the case in today’s text as well.

To see this we need to go back to the start of this present debate and look at what Jeus said that sent the Pharisees so off tract.

What Jesus said was this: ‘You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.’

These are words I think we are all familiar with, and not just from our reading of John’s Gospel.

I remember the first time I heard them.

I was in year six, and was what you might politely describe as a behaviorally challenged child. I was in my first year of middle school and we had moved, together with the high school students, to a brand-new building. But neither the new building to the promotion out of primary school made school seem any less pointless. So I found every way possible to entertain myself and to make the days pass more quickly so I could go home and go fishing. One day a once in a childhood opportunity presented itself. A car had hit a skunk just down the road from the school. We had all smelt it coming in on the bus. For those of you unfamiliar with skunks, they emit an extraordinarily repugnant odour when threatened that one can smell from quite a distance and which lingers for some time.

During lunch break I decided to gather together a small group of like-minded students to help me enact the most brilliant plan ever. The idea was to find a long limb, pick up the skunk while holding our noses, come back the school, and fling the skunk onto the school roof next to the large mushroom shaped ventilation fans than brough fresh air into the school. In the end I should have simply acted along. My companions were too afraid to pick up the dead skunk, even with a long branch. So I had to do this myself and carry the skunk back to the school. Once there they all said that it would be impossible to get it up two stories onto the roof. Basic physics, however, suggested the length of the limb would provide sufficient leverage and speed to get the carcass onto the roof. So I decided to have the first go myself to show that it was possible. Perhaps it was a lucky fling, but the skunk left the end of the branch in a perfect trajectory toward the school roof and the two large air intact vents. I waited for congratulations and praise. Or at least an admission that I was right. But when I turned back to my friends they were all running as fast as they could. So I ran too.

The bell rang and we returned to class, waiting for the smell of skunk to fill the school. Nothing happened. For twenty minutes nothing happened. They a girl near the side of room near the vents said, ‘What’s that smell?’ Soon others were asking the same question. Then the teacher announced it was skunk. She moved us into the hallway to get away from the smell but it was there to. Soon other classes were emptying into the hallway. Within a few minutes 600 hundred students were being ushered to the school oval. About half an hour later the buses were called and we were sent home early. I spent the rest of the day fishing.

The level of my success, as a lowly year six, was astounding.

The next day I was summed to the principal’s office. In the room next door to his office I could see several of the ‘friend’s’ who had been with me two days earlier. None of them looked up at me. I knew they had given me up.

But the principal seemed convinced that a confession was needed. ‘Just tell the truth,’ he said. ‘The truth will set you free.’ I had nothing to lose, so I told the truth. And do you know what? The truth didn’t set me free. Unless you consider two weeks’ suspension and a family meeting with principal being set free.

So what went wrong? I told the truth and was promised it would set me free.

Well, to begin with, both the principal and myself were lousy biblical scholars. We had misunderstood these words of Jesus as badly as the Pharisees had misunderstood them when Jesus first spoke them.

Despite all the lines from movies and all the times in police interviews this line from Jesus has been used, it was never meant to suggest that telling the truth will set you free from punishment. In fact, the saying has nothing at all to do with telling the truth – though telling the truth is generally a good thing. Nor does it have anything to do with being set free from punishment.

This is what Jesus actually said. ‘If you continue in my word, you are my disciples; and you will know the truth (not tell the truth) and the truth will set you free.’ (v. 32).

And in case anyone had missed the point, Jesus goes on in verse 36 to stay ‘if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.’

The first mistake we often make when we hear these words is that we miss the fact that it is the Son, Jesus, who is the truth. Recall also John 14:6 when Jesus declares ‘I am the Way, the truth and the life.’ We do not set ourselves free by telling the truth. But we are set free by knowing the truth, that is, by knowing Jesus. It is Jesus who sets us free. And he can do this because of who he is, the only Son of the Father. Chapters seven and eight in John’s Gospel, in which Jesus is teaching and disputing with the Pharisees and priests in the Temple during the Festival of Booths, is all about the question of who Jesus is.

In today’s text, Jesus takes that question a bit further. We learn that Jesus is the truth, and that he is the one who sets us free.

The second way we misunderstand this text is that we think it is talking about being set free from some sort of punishment or perhaps imprisonment. But it is sin which we are being set free from – sin which rules in us and drives us. But when Jesus sets us free it is now the Son who is the guiding power in our lives, not our sinful desires. For Jesus has truly set us free.

The words of Jesus in today’s text are not about the importance of telling the truth. They are bigger than that. They are about knowing the Truth. And that truth is Jesus. If we know Jesus, then, and understand and accept the truth of who he is – God in flesh with us and for us – then it is Jesus who sets us free. And what he sets us free from is ourselves. From our own enslavement to our self-centredness, and all of our wrong thoughts and actions. Jesus sets us free to longer be bound up in our sinful desires, but to follow him. And as he tried to explain to the Pharisess, ‘if the Son sets us free, then we are truly free.’

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

 

‘So, Who did you say you are again?’

16 Pentecost

John 8:21-30

Today’s text begins with a bit of déjà vu. Jesus tells the religious leaders that he is going away, and that they will search for him. But where he is going they cannot come.

Sound familiar? It should. It is almost the exact thing Jesus said earlier, quite possibly that same day, when the Pharisees and priests sent the temple police to arrest him (7:32-36) ‘You will search for me, but you will not find me; and where I am, you cannot come.’  On that occasion those listening wondered what he was talking about. They decided that perhaps he was saying that he was going out into the diaspora, among the Greek cities.

Now Jesus has said almost the same thing again. The game of hide and seek with the religious leaders continues. And once more, Jesus eludes them. They miss the point and go off in entirely the wrong direction. This time they are thinking not that Jesus is going to leave Judea and Galilee and go off into the Greek cities, but that he is going to take his own life.

Jesus talks to the religious leaders, but they fail to hear what he is saying. In fact, almost everything he says they misunderstand, and that by a wide margin.

The reaction of the Pharisees and priests to Jesus’ words is a sign of how this conversation is going.

Have you ever had a discussion with someone that you just couldn’t get through to? No matter how hard you tried to explain something they just could not or would not accept what you were saying. At some point, exasperated, you give up. You wondered why you even bothered. You may as well have been speaking to a brick wall.

This is the situation Jesus finds himself in in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus, once again, is telling the Pharisees and the other religious leaders who he is. He has already told them he is the messianic light of the world prophesied in Isaiah (verse 12). He has told them that if they knew him, then they also knew the Father (verse 19). Now he says that he is ‘from above’ and is not of this world (verse 23). Finally, he says that to find forgiveness of sins they must believe that he is the ‘I am’ (verse 24), referring to the name God gave Moses when he asked his name (Exodus 3:14,15). On top of all the other things Jesus has done and said, it is hard to imagine how he could have been any clearer about who he is. He is the promised Messiah. More than that, he is God himself. He is the great I AM.

And how do the Pharisees and other religious leaders respond to this series of increasingly blunt statement from Jesus about who he is?

They ask him: ‘Who are you?’

Can you imagine that? After Jesus tells them as plainly as he can who he is, and in more than one way, they respond by asking him who he is.

How else could Jesus have said it? At this point he is clearly exasperated.

So he simply says: ‘Why to I bother to speak to you at all?’ (verse 25)

Jesus admits that he seems to be wasting his time with them.

Yet Jesus does continue to speak. He tells them he has much to say. And much of it they will not like. He has much to condemn in what he sees and hears from them.

Finally, he tells them that they will eventually understand who he is. ‘When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realise that I AM,’  he tells them.

It is the second time in this text that Jesus says that he is the ‘I am.’ Our English translations often translate his words as ‘I am he’ so that they make more grammatical sense. But they were just as awkward in John’s Greek, where Jesus simply says ‘ego eimi’ (‘I am’). The awkwardness of the construction is intentional. Jesus did not forget to finish his sentence. He is making the strongest and clearest claim possible to being God. For ‘I am’ was the name God gave to Moses when Moses asked God for his name.

And this second time Jesus makes the claim to be ‘I am’ in our text he does do with reference to being ‘lifted up from the earth’ by his questioners.

But this statement about being lifted up from the earth has a history in John’s Gospel. Jesus has said this before. He said this to Nicodemus. And we know from the end of the last chapter that Nicodemus is there among the Pharisees who are questioning Jesus.

Jesus had told Nicodemus, when he came to him at night, that, ‘Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life’ (John 3:14,15). It was an image from the wanderings of the people of Israel in the wilderness, which was being celebrated at the Feast of Booths, which Jesus was attending when he said these words. So the allusion to Moses and the serpent in the wilderness makes sense in this context.

But it is also a reminder to Nicodemus that once Jesus is lifted up on the cross, there would be no more doubt about who he was. And of course, we read at the end of John’s Gospel, when Nicodemus makes his third appearance, that after Jesus is lifted up from the earth on the cross, he finally comes forward as a follower of Jesus. The words Jesus spoke about showing everyone that he is the Messiah when he is lifted up from the earth would have stuck in Nicodemus’ mind.

When Nicodemus sees Jesus on the cross, he knows.

There is no more doubt.

There is no more hesitation.

Even though Jesus’ own disciples are in hiding and the movement seems lost, Nicodemus comes forward publicly as a follower of Jesus.

But Nicodemus was not the only person in the crowd that day. There were many other Pharisees and religious leaders with him. They were experts in the scriptures. They were the ones who should have understood what Jesus was saying. They should have understood who Jesus was. But Jesus warns them that by the time they see the truth, it would be too late. They would ‘die in their sins because they did not believe that Jesus was the great I AM, God in flesh come to them.

For Jesus if must have been frustrating explaining over and over to the religious experts who he was. But he was not wasting his time. There were others in the crowd who were listening. And we are told that many of them understood and believed.

Jesus tells us plainly who he is. He tells us plainly that he is the light of the world. He tells us plainly that only in him do we find forgiveness of sins and peace with God.

The question for each of us is this: Are we listening? Do we believe him? Or, like the Pharisees, are we still asking Jesus: ‘Who are you?’

Jesus tells us that not only is he the promised Messiah, the light of the world, but he is also the I AM, the creator of all. And he has indeed been lifted up on the cross for everyone to see.

He is not hiding. He is not keeping his identity a secret.

As John told us as the beginning of his Gospel; God, the true light of the world, has come to dwell among us.

So – Are we listening? Are our eyes open?

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

Jesus, the light of the world

15 Pentecost
John 8:12-20 

If we read John’s Gospel as it was written and as it stood for several centuries, before the spurious account of the woman caught in the act of adultery was added, then we move directly from Nicodemus’ attempt to ask for a fair hearing for Jesus, to Jesus’ statement: ‘I am the light of the world.’

This is significant for a couple of reasons. First, it means the context is still the Feast of Booths and Jesus is continuing his conversation in the Temple. Not only was water a theme at the festival, as we saw in the previous text, but so was light. The cloud of light that led the people of Israel during their sojourn in the wilderness was one of the themes of remembering the time in the dessert. And candles were also lit in significant quantities at the feast as part of this theme. So not only has Jesus gotten the attention of those assembled by saying ‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,’ now he has proclaimed, ‘I am the light of the world.’

And secondly, it is significant that this text follows immediately upon the end of chapter seven when Nicodemus shows up for the second time in John’s Gospel. It reminds us of the first time Nicodemus met Jesus. There, in chapter three, Jesus’ final words to Nicodemus were these: ‘The light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light and do not come to the light … but those who do what is true come to the light.’

The theme of Jesus as the light of the world will be familiar to the reader’s of John’s Gospel. John began his Gospel by declaring that the Word which has come into the world is ‘the light of all people. It is a light that shines in the darkness and no darkness will overcome it.’

The Pharisees and others gathered around would, of course, not be aware of these words not yet written. But there was at least one person present who had heard something like this before. And that was Nicodemus.

Could this have been partly a special message and call to Nicodemus? Possibly. For it is also in the context of the this same talk the John mentions the importance of testimony, the terminology of coming ‘from above’, the linking of belief with salvation, and most obviously, the repeating of the prophecy that the Son of Man will be lifted up off the earth.

If Nicodemus had been mulling over in his mind his earlier conversation with Jesus, he would have likely taken much of what was said as a personal reminder and challenge to him. (But that’s another sermon!)

But there was another greater and more obvious context to these words of Jesus that the Pharisees and other religious leaders clearly did not miss. And that was the several messianic texts in Isaiah in which the coming Messiah is said to be the light of the nations. Most famously we think of Isaiah 9:2, ‘The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.’ And also Isaiah 49:6, ‘I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.’ And Isaiah 60:1-3, ‘Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. … nations shall come to your light and kings to the brightness of your dawn.’

Jesus was clearly claiming to be the Messiah. And the religious leaders reacted strongly. They accused him of testifying on his own behalf that he is the Messiah.

And this brings us to the second significant aspect of this text: a revisiting of the legal argument that we occurred at the end of chapter five. As you will recall, in that text it was Jesus himself who said, ‘If I testify about myself, my testimony in not true’  (5:31). He then went on to bring out John the Baptist, the Scriptures as represented by Moses and God the Father as his witnesses.

Now we seem to have a repeat of this legal dispute over witnesses. But with a twist.

This time around Jesus appears to take the opposite point of view. Instead of conceding that he cannot testify about himself, and bringing instead three other witnesses, it is now the Pharisees who tell Jesus that he cannot testify about himself. Perhaps they remembered their last verbal sparing match with Jesus some months earlier. Perhaps they had wondered what else they could have said. Quite possibly they workshopped various responses they could use when they next met. It was common in the rabbinic schools to hold debates, and for disputants to take the other side to see who they would conduct the argument. Now their chance has come for a rematch. Jesus is back in Jerusalem and back in the temple teaching and they are once again trying to challenge him. And when he says he is the light of the world, someone among them remembers that in their last matchup Jesus had said he could not testify on his own behalf.

They had him.

Or so they thought.

But Jesus shifts tack rather than conceding.

From the standpoint of rabbinic debates this is quite significant, because Jesus now seems to be obliging by taking the opposite position to what he took the first time. He will now argue that he is indeed testifying on his own behalf and that this testimony is valid.

He makes two crucial points. First, he knows who he is and where he comes from, and they do not. Hence he is uniquely qualified to say who he is, whereas they have absolutely no idea and have nothing to say on the matter.

And to the legal point in question, Jesus points out that the testimony of two witnesses is accepted in legal proceedings. So technically he is not testifying about himself alone. He is testifying that he is the light of the world, the Messiah. And he is making this testimony together with his Father. That makes two. Hence a valid testimony.

At this point the Pharisees know they are in trouble. They are having a repeat of their earlier debate and Jesus is now besting them taking  opposing point of view, namely, that he can testify on his own behalf. They are running short on options.

So they ask Jesus to produce his second witness. ‘Where is you father?’ they ask (v. 19). They had done their research on Jesus. They had earlier said ‘we know this man’s mother and father. They knew Joseph was no longer living. So they thought once again that they had him because he had named a witness that could not be produced.

But Jesus cuts them short here. He tells them that they do not know who he is (a point he has already made) nor do they know his father. Because if they knew one, they would know the other. So they do not know who Jesus is, therefore they cannot say he is not from above. And they have not understood who his second witness is. Not only that, Jesus points out that they do not personally know his second witness.

And there would seem to be a double meaning here, as there so often is in Jesus’ words. On the one hand, the Pharisees think they are talking about Joseph of Nazareth, and Jesus has pointed out that they do not know who Jesus’ true father is. But also, Jesus has pointed out that they do not know God their own Father and creator. They think they know God, but when God in flesh is standing before them, they have no idea who he is. They do not recognise him.

And this text is all about who Jesus is. The legal arguments illustrate an important point about the intransigence of the Pharisees and high priests. But we should not let these legal arguments cause us to forget what started this particular exchange.

Jesus claimed to be the light of the world.

Everyone present knew from their reading of Isaiah that this was a claim to be the Messiah.

So this debate was always about who Jesus was.

In the course of the legal arguments, the question continues to be about who Jesus is.

He is the one from above. He is the one who is known through the Father and through whom the Father is known.

And as Jesus says at the end of the argument, in his summation if you will, ‘If you knew me, you would know my Father also.’

So the point is that they had no idea who Jesus was. And because they did not know Jesus, they did not truly know God the Father.

Jesus is the light of the world. But the unbelief of the Pharisees was keeping them in the darkness.

Jesus continues to be to the light of the whole world. He is the light that no darkness can overcome. But if we close our eyes to who Jesus is. If we do not know him, then, like the Pharisees, we will continue to stumble about in darkness even though we have the promised light of the world right before us.

To Jesus’ debate with the Pharisees in not simply about proving that he can testify that he is the light. It is a call for them and for us to open out eyes and let this light in, so that we no longer walk in darkness.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.