April 21, 2013

Clay Nelson

Easter 4
     John 10:22-30


Preached at St Barnabas, Mt Eden


It is a good thing to get out of one’s own pulpit once in awhile. It gives a fresh perspective. So I’m pleased to be amongst you this morning. But there is a risk that comes with the opportunity. The challenge is that a sermon on any given Sunday is part of a much longer conversation preachers have with their congregations. As a guest I don’t know where Bob is in his conversation with you so I am much like that person who stumbles into an on going conversation and blurts out something that has nothing to do with what you are talking about. It can be a bit awkward and a little confusing if not embarrassing. So I ask your forgiveness in advance if that is what I am doing.

In a sense that is what today’s Gospel feels like… an awkward intrusion. For the last two weeks following Easter we have been hearing about resurrection appearances of Jesus. Suddenly this week we have an account long before Holy Week and a confusing one at that for this season of the church year. The only thing that makes any sense is that this Sunday is traditionally celebrated as Good Shepherd Sunday and this reading mentions sheep and immediately follows John’s account of Jesus telling a parable about the Good Shepherd.

My task is all the more difficult because a lot has happened in the world this week, in particular, in Boston and here in New Zealand, and I would really like to talk about those events instead of this awkward Gospel. I’m not sure if it is possible but I’m going to give it a go to bring them all together anyway.

On Tuesday we awoke to news of two bombs going off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. In a world of smart phones there were countless videos capturing the horror of terrorism when they should have shown the glory of human triumph. 

It was personal for me. I have friends in Boston. I know the city well. I have a daughter who went to law school there and worked there a number of years. A former classmate works at a church two hundred yards from the explosions. Tears flowed as video showed blood spilling into the gutters.

For me Wednesday was a happier day. In case you haven’t noticed St Matthew-in-the-City has been a fairly vocal advocate for the LGBTI community for the last 40 years. We actively lobbied for Louisa Wall’s Marriage Equality bill. So I got the popcorn out to watch Parliament TV’s broadcast of the third reading of the bill and the final vote. During the course of the debate I kept an eye on my Facebook friends and their reactions. We live in a fascinating age when you can be alone with your dog having conversations with people all over the world about something that is happening in real time on your television. When the final vote was called for and passage by a large majority was announced the tears flowed as the gallery sang the love song Pokarekare Ana as a waiata. It was personal for me.

On Thursday I had to confront today’s Gospel and what it had to say about where I was existentially after Tuesday and Wednesday?

To appreciate where John is going the context needs to be understood. Jesus is walking in the portico of the temple. Since it is winter he is probably staying out of the wind so as not to get a sniffle. Which makes me wonder: Did Jesus catch colds, and if he did could he heal himself? But that probably wasn’t John’s point. Pointing out it was winter was a literary device to indicate that Jesus’ relationship with the Judeans questioning him was frosty.

The reference to it being at the time of the Dedication of the Temple was another literary allusion that Jews in the First Century would have clearly understood. We now call this festival Channukah. It celebrates the victory of Judas Maccabeus and his forces against the Seleucid leader, Antiochus, in 164 B.C. Seleucus, the founder of the Seleucid dynasty, had been one of Alexander the Great's generals. The eastern portion of the Alexandrian empire went to him after the death of Alexander. Headquartered in Babylonia, Seleucus expanded his empire into modern day Turkey and Syria.

The Seleucids had profaned the Jerusalem Temple by erecting a statue of Zeus on the altar. This incident was called the "abominable desolation" in Dan 9:27. Following the defeat of Antiochus, the Maccabeans erected a new altar and rededicated the Temple. Chanukkah is the festival that celebrates the re-consecration of the Temple. 

This is the context when the Judeans surround Jesus asking him if he is the Messiah. Jesus has been tight mouthed about this. By this point in John he has only identified himself that way to the Samaritan woman. While I seriously doubt if the historical Jesus ever identified himself this way, in John’s account he is reticent to do so because in the world of that time, the Messiah was thought to be like Judas Maccabbeus, a political figure, if not a military one, who would defeat Israel’s enemies and usher in a Golden Age of prosperity. If Jesus did think of himself as the Messiah, it definitely was not this kind.

Another good reason not to call your self the Messiah was it was considered blasphemy, the penalty for which was death. After he identifies himself with the Father in the last line of today’s reading, the next line that we didn’t hear is, “The Jews took up stones again to stone him.”

So what is John’s purpose in telling this episode? He was dwelling on a problem that would consume Christians for the next six centuries and through four great councils. How is Jesus related to God? In John’s time they only had the Hebrew Scriptures to tell them about God. In them Yahweh is a jealous, judgmental god of war, slaying whole peoples he was displeased with. How does Jesus, who does not meet his contemporaries’ expectations of who the Messiah should or indeed could be, match up with that God? How could he be God, the Judeans have to be wondering? He doesn’t come with power; he comes serving. He doesn’t come with judgment; he comes with healing. He doesn’t come with vengeance; he comes with forgiveness. In short he doesn’t fit the position description to be God.

What John does is turn the question on its head. Instead of asking is Jesus like God, he invites the question is God like Jesus? The answer invites a radical shift in our theology. The implication for us in a church that claims to be the body of Christ is do we let go of a god of power, judgment and vengeance to reveal in our lives the God Jesus reflects by serving, healing and forgiving? The question for us is not so much is God like Jesus, but are we like Jesus? Which brings me back to the events of this week.

It appears that the perpetrators of Boston’s terror chose to act on behalf of a god of vengeance. It was a heinous, destructive act. But what I found heartening to watch in the videos were the people rushing to help those who were injured. There were wonderful accounts of marathon runners who kept running to give blood at local hospitals. There was the cooperation of citizens and law enforcement to identify and locate the suspects. There was the courage of those who risked their lives to apprehend them. It was clear in Boston that a god like Jesus prevailed over a god of hate.

In New Zealand the passage of the Marriage Equality Act completed a journey begun in 1986 with the decriminalization of homosexuality. It has taken too long to overcome the fear and hatred directed at the LGBTQ community, but finally the loving god Jesus reveals has prevailed over the god of those who condemn them. 

Sadly this journey is not complete yet. The House of Bishops met this past week in Tonga and has decided that any priest who out of conscience conducts a same sex marriage will lose their licence. The irony is not lost on me that a Member of Parliament was free to vote their conscience, while priests of the body of Christ cannot do the same. While the law states that a priest is free not to perform such a marriage, it is the church that tells us we are not free to officiate at them.

It won’t surprise you that I’m not happy about this, but I trust the god Jesus reveals will eventually sort this, making it right. The sad part is every day the church and we in it do not reveal Jesus, the more people will be alienated from the love he offers. It brings me to tears. It’s personal.