Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Son of Man must be lifted up

John 3: 14-21, NT 94 And 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. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgement, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God. Sermon I love to eat out at restaurants. It really is one of my favorite things to do in the world, and I can remember clearly enough the first time my parents took me out to eat. They had taken me to McDonald’s before, but the first time they took me to a real restaurant it was different and I knew it. There was a white table cloth on the table. A waitress came to the table to take our drink order and my mother insisted that I have milk, which the waitress poured from a little milk carton into a real glass. To eat I ordered fried fish from the kid’s menu, and it was presented in the shape of a rectangle complimented by Cole slaw and French fries, but the most incredible thing in the world to me at the time was the sprig of parsley that adorned my plate. I didn’t know what it was or why it was there. It looked too bright and green nestled up next to my fried fish, and for some reason I asked my mom whether or not I should eat it, “it looks like it might be poisonous,” I remember telling her. “Poisonous?” she asked. “Well, it might be. Why don’t you try it and find out.” So, that first time I ever ate at a restaurant, I didn’t just eat, I risked my life, and it felt like an adventure. But ever since then, not only have I noticed the food on the plate, I pay particular attention to what compliments the food on the plate. The way carrots and cucumbers would be cut into shapes at the Chinese restaurant. The pats of butter shaped like Mikey Mouse at Disney World. My sister and I would fight over that little white table they used to put in the middle of your delivery pizza to keep the lid of the box from getting stuck in the melted cheese, but the best is the contrast that something like fresh parsley makes when it sits right next to greasy fried fish, the way something so different as black eyed peas cooked all day in pork fat and Ms. Sue Dunnebacke’s sweet relish go perfectly together because the salty of the peas tastes even better when complimented by the sweet of the relish. Food often works this way. To really taste something sometimes you pair it with what is totally different, and in a similar way, the Gospel of John, again and again speaks of light and darkness because the only way to know one is to know the other. The Gospel begins, “The light shines in the darkness,” and seeing the light requires the backdrop of shadow. In the same way we come to the most familiar verse in the Gospel of John, the most famous verse in the entire Bible, “For God so loved the world,” and to truly grasp the depth of this love you must understand “the world” that such love is paired with. Fried fish and parsley. Black eyed peas and relish. Light and darkness. The love of God and the world. They might not be exact opposites, but certainly the world as our God has known it has not returned the love she has received. This juxtaposition is ancient, so our second Scripture lesson with a reference to the book of Numbers: “just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,” when the Israelites spoke against God and against Moses saying, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” Here is the story of humanity. Saved by the love of God, but unable to respond with anything more than ingratitude. How many mothers can understand? After working a full day, rushing home to put food on the table, only to be met with ingratitude and complaint, how many would love to do as God did in the book of Numbers and release poisonous serpents among the family at the dinner table? Not only had the Lord freed them from Egyptian slavery with a mighty hand, led them through the waters of the sea on dry land like a flock while the clouds poured out water and the skies thundered, turned biter water sweet, and provided manna for a hungry and desperate people, but the Lord even made them his own, promising blessing if only they would trust and follow. For centuries this one small request has proved too much to ask. For generations disobedience has been our reaction to the love of God. So who is this world that God so loved? To understand one we must understand the other, and to understand the world there was a time when we needed the likes of Flannery O’Connor to tell us about the world that we were too proud to see, but today, thanks to phones and video cameras capturing our every move, we know the truth about college football players and politicians, we know the difference between what celebrities say and how they live, we don’t need to wonder about the validity of rumors, because so much has been recorded live on video. Ours is not the world that Norman Rockwell painted and we know it, but we know it, not just because we’ve been told, not because we’ve seen it on the news, also because we are a part of it. Who is this world that God so loved? It’s as disobedient, as broken, as flawed and duplicitous as any of us who inhabit it - so how can it be that God loves us still we ask – but I tell you – think of such depravity and be struck by abundant love. God’s love is wondrous, because the recipient of this love is the world in which we live, and the one who is loved is not the person who you pretend to be, the ego that you put out to the world, the version of yourself on the days when you hold your head up high and live your life in a way that would make your mother proud – no – the recipient of the love of God is the you who you truly are. In this passage from the Gospel of John we come to know ourselves as a child who refuses to eat the dinner that’s been prepared, who clenches his mouth closed in protest of the tooth brush, who pouts through a few stories, then refuses to sleep, declaring, “I’m not tired – and get out of my room” as he kicks the covers onto the floor – only we wake up in the morning warm, with a blanket tucked under our chin and pinched under our sides – why? Because God so loved the world. Just as the Lord provided Moses a bronze serpent in the wilderness to heal the Israelites who had rejected him, so God gave his own son to be lifted up on the cross. Crucified as the great sign that while the world might reject the love of God, God will love the world relentlessly. Therein lies the great challenge of Christianity. On the one hand is human depravity. On the other is the love of God. To understand one you must understand the other – but can you understand such love? Can you earn it? No. Can you deserve it? Surely not. But is it there nonetheless? Yes. It is there, if only you will accept it. Amen.

1 comment:

Jody said...

Amen, Joe Evans, amen.