English Language Sermon – October 19, 2008

“Jesus’ Best Friend” (John 21:20-24)

October 19, 2008

Rev. Dr. David Andersen, English Language Sabbatical Interim Pastor

When I was a young man I copied down two quotes about Richard Nixon. The card on which I typed them is now yellowed with age but the quotes remain important, not because of what they say about Richard Nixon but because they can be applied to all of us.

The fist quote was by Arthur Burns, whom President Nixon appointed chairman of the Federal Reserve. He once wondered “if he (Nixon) ever really had a good, close personal friend.” Sadly, he decided not, and said, “A friend like that could have saved him – from his lifelong isolation, surely, perhaps from his inability to trust.” The second quote was by Henry Kissinger who once said, “Can you imagine what Nixon would have been had somebody loved him?…He would have been a great, great man had somebody loved him.”

This morning I want to preach about friendship, particularly that rarified category of those we refer to as our “best friend.” It is an important subject because friendship is one of the models we are given for our life together as Christians in the Church and understanding the highest expression of friendship through what it means to have a “best friend,” the ideal of friendship, gives us an image to strive for and emulate in all friendship, particularly in the Church.

The Bible has some fantastic stories of friendship, but the one I want to focus on this morning is one that is seldom mentioned when we speak of Biblical friendships, and that is the story of Jesus’ best friend, John, the writer of the fourth gospel and one of the disciples.

Normally, we do not think of Jesus needing a best friend or even suffering the need of having friends in general, but if our creeds are correct, that Jesus was both “Truly God” and “Truly human,” and we profess that in the incarnation Jesus became in all ways as we are, then in Jesus in being truly human, he experienced in himself all the longings we know so well, including the longing for human connectedness.

Jesus was as susceptible to colds and flu bugs as we are. He would feel hunger the same way we do. When the soldiers beat Him he felt every b it the pain we would feel. And, as being fully human Jesus would also feel what it means to be lonely, but then also the reverse of that, what it is like to be loved and beyond a love for humanity, what it is like to have out of that humanity one person who stands next to him, closer to him than any other.

John was that person. John is the one disciple identified as the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” and John in his gospel refers to himself in that way, and for as much as the other disciples were confident in Jesus’ love for them, they knew that there was this bond between John and Jesus.

Now, what I would like to do is look more closely at this relationship between Jesus and John and what it meant to Jesus and what it means to us to have such a close friend and how from these friendships we begin to understand what it means to be in relationship with one another in the church. I particularly want to look at specific incidents where John referred to himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved and see what is the possible meaning in these incidents for having a friend who as the book of Proverbs says, “sticks closer than a brother.”

We begin with the Last Supper. Jesus and his disciples are sharing a meal together. It is the evening in which Jesus will be arrested. John is seated next to Jesus. John writes, “One of his disciples – the one whom Jesus loved – was reclining next to him.” Jesus announces that one of the disciples will betray him. The disciples are shocked. The burning questions is, who will it be. No one, however, wants to ask Jesus. Then Peter leans forward and says to John, you ask.

John asks the question. Mary, the mother of Jesus, can’t ask the question of Jesus; it would be too painful for her. Peter can’t ask the question, he is not close enough. It has to be John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, who not out of gossip but because Jesus loves him, shares in the truth of Jesus life. John asks the hard question, and this is one of the provisions of close friendship. A close friend keeps us to the truth. A close friend keeps us tethered to reality. A close friend is someone who asks the hard questions of our life.

John could have attempted to be reassuring to Jesus, offering a false security saying to Jesus, “Don’t be silly Jesus, you know everybody loves you. You know none of your disciples would ever turn against you.” Or he could have said to Jesus, “I don’t want to talk about it. It is to painful. Let’s pretend it isn’t so.” This isn’t being a close friend. A close friend risks his or her own comfort and possibly even the friendship for the sake of the friend, for the sake of adhering to an honesty and forthrightness with the friend that possibly no other human being can have with that friend. Jesus needed someone in whom he could confide on that night. John gave him that opportunity by asking the hard question.

Praise God if you have someone in your life in whom you can confide and who will ask you the hard questions as you confront the sometimes extremely difficult issues and situations in your life.

Next, we turn to the crucifixion. Jesus looks down from the cross, and the gospel says, “When Jesus saw his mother and the disci9ple whom he loved standing beside her.” (19:26). John was with Jesus’ mother and Jesus before he died then entrusted the care of his mother into the hands of John. A best friend is someone you can turn to for help. It is not even a point of consideration. It is a given. Jesus is dying, but he has to know his mother will be taken care of. John, alone, is able to give that assurance. Sometimes we can’t let go until those kind of assurances can be made.

Everybody needs at least one other person in their life upon whom they can call. It doesn’t matter if it is a big thing or a little thing, this person can be counted upon. Now, you can’t expect this of everybody, but praise be to God, if you have that one somebody whose name comes to mind when you need help or assistance, and hopefully, the church, is this way for one another. Jesus carried the sins of the world at the crucifixion, but in a very human way he also carried the care of his mother, and you can say that in John there was someone there to minister to the human side of him, so that he could be the Son of God for the world. We need somebody we can call, somebody who will be there for us.

The third incident that reveals the relationship of Jesus to John follows the resurrection and occurs at the Sea of Galilee. The disciples were out fishing and a figure appears on the shore. The disciples had caught little, and this man on the shore calls out to them, “cast your nets on the other side of the boat,” he shouted. They do and their nets became full with the catch. The disciples are mystified as to who this figure is, but the gospel says, “That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord.’” (21:7).

Everybody needs somebody who knows their name and can call it out and say, “That’s my friend.” I like the definition of friendship I once heard from John Savage. He said, “A friend is someone who knows you really well and likes you anyway.” I don’t want to die with my life a secret. I want there to have been at least a few people who truly knew me, and in knowing me, hopefully still stuck by me. I want someone, out in the boat, able to recognize me on the shore.

This kind of knowing I am talking about is a special kind of knowing. It is a knowing embedded in love. John’s recognition of Jesus came out of love, because with love, even before the sun has risen and a mist still hover over the water, you see in the hues of the person on shore the one you love.

You recognize the little idiosyncrasies. You catch the inflexion of the voice. This person is alive to you in all the manifold mystery God has made him or her. This person is your best friend.

And this leads me to the fourth mention of John in the gospel as the disciple whom Jesus loved. It is in the last verses of John’s gospel. Peter turns, after his own discussion with Jesus and the gospel says, “He (Peter) saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them…” Then John writes, “This is the disciple who is testifying to these things and has written them.” John identifies himself at last as this disciple and says, I am the one who has written this gospel.

Jesus needed a best friend to write and speak his testimony. One of the privileges of being a best friend is that you can speak the praise of the one who is your friend, and as long as you are alive, even after the friend has passed this earth, that friend’s memory and presence will be known through you.

You carry his or her memory in your heart. You don’t let the presence of the one who was your friend be lost to the universe because of death. What you saw in your friend is what helps you make sense of the world and reveals to you more of what the world should be, so even though your friend is taken from this world, through you, she or he remains a gifted part of this world, especially to you. In life, you speak praises of your friend, and if death separate you, you don’t let the memory of your friend get lost.

Thus, there you have it, reflections on Jesus’ best friend, the disciples whom Jesus loved. He was the one who could ask Jesus the hard questions. He was the person Jesus could turn to in his hour of greatest need. He was the one who knew Jesus better than anyone else and recognized him on the shore. And, the love that bonded Jesus and John never ceased but remained alive and is alive today in the Gospel of John. John was the one who testified of his friend’s life.

I hope this speaks to you of the sacredness of friendship. I hope it tells you that if you have such a friend, apart from the gift of family, it is the most sacred and holy gift you will ever receive. I hope it tells you that all friendship is of God and this is the way we are to be to one another in church. And, I hope it tells you that if Jesus needed such a friend, the longing for human connectedness is Spirit driven and that its answer in having a friend is as well Spirit given. The gift of friendship helps form you into the person God created you to be.

But, I hope it does one other thing. In exploring John’s special relationship to Jesus Christ, I hope it causes you to ask about your own relationship to Jesus Christ and how close it comes to being like John’s. When we sing “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” this morning, I hope you will consider your friendship with Jesus and how it parallels the friendship John had with Jesus.

How close does your friendship with Jesus come to being like John’s. Is Jesus a friend of whom you can ask the hard questions about discipleship and life? Do you use Jesus as an escape from life or does Jesus help keep you grounded to life and facing sometimes the hard questions? Are you a friend upon whom Jesus can call to help care for his mother and father, sister and brother or the stranger? Are you close enough to Jesus so you are able to recognize him on the shore or those times when he would reveal himself in the stranger or the person next to you or amongst the least of his children? And, do you testify of him? Do you speak his name and tell others what he has done for you?

But, this isn’t where I want to end. There is one last word that needs to be spoken and that has to do with Jesus’ relationship with us. John saw himself as being Jesus’ best friend, the disciple whom Jesus loved. It was a unique and special relationship, but here is what I believe. What John understood for himself is true for all of us. Each of us is the disciple whom Jesus loves. Each of us, in the eyes of Jesus and our relationship to him, is as a best friend. We are to Jesus, each of us, as though we were the only person in the world and all his love is poured into us.

The problem is, and the only difference between Jesus and us and Jesus and John, is that John accepted it, John understood it, John saw with his own eyes of the soul, what was really real, and that was that he was the beloved. It isn’t a difference of kind, Jesus’ love for John being of one kind and his love for us being of another kind. It is a difference of perception. John saw Jesus with his heart. John saw Jesus with the eyes of his soul and the more we allow ourselves to see in the same way, the more in faith we allow ourselves to believe, the more we will see what is really real and that is, Jesus loves me, Jesus loves you with the same love and the same depth with which he loved John, and all the qualities that applied to John in his friendship with Jesus, are the very same qualities with which Jesus loves us, asking the hard questions, being one upon whom we can rely, recognizing us from afar off, and always speaking sweetly of our name. Jesus loves you. Amen.

English Language Sermon – April 20, 2008

“Show Us the Way” (John 14:1-9)

April 20, 2008 – Fifth Sunday of Easter

Rev. Carol McVetty

On Tuesday I will participate in an interfaith dialog, a conversation among people sometimes identified as “Abraham’s Children” because Jews, Christians, and Muslims all view Abraham as their spiritual father. I hope many of you will participate as well. For me, it is a conversation not with strangers, but with friends. Jamal Hussein of the Ismaili Center, Paul Koch at Ebenezer Lutheran, Michael Zedek, the rabbi at Congregation Emanuel, and Father Dominic Grassi at St. Gertrude’s are colleagues of mine here in the Edgewater neighborhood. We sit around a table for lunch every month. Over the years I have grown to respect and trust and value them both as friends and as men of faith.

You folks may also find it to be a conversation with friends, neighbors, or acquaintances. This is a local Edgewater event. That is part of the reason we are doing this. We believe that locally, within a neighborhood, is the place these conversations must begin. It is the place they are the most fruitful.

As I began to gather my thoughts for Tuesday, I was also preparing this morning’s sermon. The Gospel text assigned for today, the Fifth Sunday of Easter, is found in the Gospel of John and includes these words: “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life. No ones comes to the Father except through me.’” Now what do I do with that? This is a treasured text for me. It is one of my favorite parts of John’s gospel, along with the other “I am” statements: “I am the light of the world.” “I am the good shepherd.” “I am the vine.” “I am the way, the truth, the life….” To these words my soul clings, as to a life raft in a raging storm. But how do I carry them with me into interfaith dialogue? Must I leave them at door? Do they apply?

Years ago I was asked to pray at the annual community commemoration of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It was a big deal in our city, an inner ring suburb of Detroit. Southfield was primarily African American and Jewish. Those groups would make up the majority of those in attendance at the event. My clergy colleagues advised me to give a generic sort of interfaith prayer. They said that in those kinds of settings Jewish people feel betrayed, tricked into blasphemy even, if they are invited to pray and then the prayer concludes “in Jesus’ name”. Use images for God that all can ascribe to, that will give offense to no one, I was told. That is the only appropriate thing to do, they said, especially at a city sponsored event. But in conversation with members of my church, some African-Americans who were on the event’s planning committee, I was told, “If you do that, we will feel betrayed! Dr. King was a Christian, a Baptist even. His faith was the rich soil from which his work grew. Even at this city-wide event we must celebrate his faith or we are being dishonest about his legacy. You must pray an explicitly Christian prayer.” Who would have imagined a prayer….just a prayer….could be fraught with so much danger! It is no simple thing to engage one another across faith differences.

When we step into the public sphere with our faith, I see two main approaches. One is the equivalent of “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nah, nah.” It says “We’ve got the truth. Jesus is the only way.” Theologians call that triumphalism. The notion that only Christians are acceptable to God has fueled much that is good. It is the energy behind evangelism and much of our missionary enterprise. It says, “we’ve got Good News!” But we can see the disastrous results of this conviction as well; the Crusades, the Holocaust, religious conflicts down through the centuries. With horror I read this week that Rod Parsley, pastor of Ohio’s most mega megachurch, the 12,000 member World Harvest Church in Columbus, is calling for the destruction of Islam. His book “Silent No More” is selling well. He also broadcasts to huge audiences, proclaiming that America can only “fulfill its divine purpose” by seeing to it that Islam “this false religion, is destroyed.” It is not just the extremists who claim Allah wants to destroy Christian civilization that he is out to eliminate. No, even the kind, moderate Muslims down the street, “mainstream believers in America drink from the same poisoned well” and must be eliminated.

We recoil in horror from such hatred. We rightly recognize it as the opposite of the way of Jesus, utterly un-Christian. When someone like Parsley tosses out “Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me”, it is like a grenade and we run for cover. But the shelter we find is all too often in a non-committal stance: “Oh, there are many ways to God” …”all religious ideas are the same,” “it doesn’t matter what you believe.”

So we careen from “nyah, nyah” to a mamby-pamby, wishy-washy position that denies the core of our faith. If our only choices are triumphalism or indifference, I find myself praying “Lord Jesus, show us the way!” Because there must be another!

Look again at the story in John’s Gospel. It took place in the Upper Room on the night when Jesus was betrayed. Jesus had gathered around him his dearest friends….

the ones who had trailed after him through the countryside

the ones who had watched him heal and heard him preach

the ones with whom he had talked late into the night, praying and speaking of Holy things, of God

the ones who were there when the authorities turned from jealous to hostile….as things grew tense and dangerous.

It was this group of intimate friends to whom Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” It was not to the whole world that Jesus spoke that night, but to this little band of followers.

And John wrote his gospel for a small, struggling church, in a world that was a cacophony of competing religious claims. It was a little group trying to separate itself out from the synagogue, trying to establish their identity in the midst of pagan cults. It was for this little band of early Christians that John recounted this story. The heart of John’s gospel is that Jesus is the Word become flesh. Remember how it begins? “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God….And the Word became flesh and lived among us.” In Jesus, the incarnate Word, we can see and know God in a way never possible before. In the coming of Jesus the relationship between God and humanity is forever changed. That’s John’s testimony. That’s John’s message. Jesus is so intimate with God that he calls him Father. No one had done that before! When we see Jesus we see God. They are in an embrace that cannot be severed.

So when John writes the story of that last night in the Upper Room, when he recounts the words of Jesus “I am the way…” essentially it means “The way to enter this intimacy that I share with God is by drawing close to me. That’s the way to do it.” Jesus is making a defining statement for this community, for his followers. The statement does draw a boundary. But it is not a boundary around God, for God is without limit. It draws a boundary around the Christian community. It says, “this is who we are. We are the people who believe in the God who has been revealed to us decisively in Jesus. To be in the circle of Jesus’ own, you must recognize Jesus for who he is: the Way, the Truth, the Life.” To be Christian is not to say “Oh, well, believe whatever.” To be Christian is to say “I have found the Way in Jesus.” This is what it means to be Christian. This passage does not answer the question “who gets to heaven?” It answers the question “who is a Christian?….

who is part of this community?….

and how does this community find God?”

We find God through Jesus.

How, then, do I take this testimony of Scripture into interfaith dialogue? I carry it as a badge, not a club. I fully, completely and proudly own who I am….a follower of Jesus. And I meet others who come fully, completely, proudly as Jews or Muslims. We come as distinct voices in a spirit of mutual respect and care. Otherwise there is no point in coming at all.

Finally, do we dare ask the question “who gets to heaven?…Who is accepted by God?” Yes, we can ask it. But we dare not presume to answer it. I am deeply grateful that that decision is not up to me. Tony Campolo says “Yes, Jesus said ‘No one comes to the Father except through me.’ But how can we presume to know who Jesus will bring to the Father?” We cannot. Only God himself knows that.

But I do know this:

That the God I meet in Jesus is a God of unstoppable love.

That the God I meet in Jesus is a God of unending mercy.

That the God I meet in Jesus is a God of grace beyond our imagining.

That the God I meet in Jesus surely knows a way to embrace all our neighbors.

The point of our dialogue on Tuesday is most definitely not deciding who gets into heaven. The point is to build relationships of trust. We build relationships of trust so we can live together as neighbors, and stand together in the face of the crucial tests of our day. I attended a missions conference this week at Lutheran School of Theology, Chicago. One of the speakers, a Catholic theologian, recounted how, as Serbia was descending into a bloodbath, that the leaders of each religious group spoke out against the violence. The Catholic bishop spoke to the Croates, the Orthodox patriarch spoke to the Serbs, and the Muslim leaders spoke to the Bosnians. But it didn’t make enough of a difference. They slaughtered each other anyway. But now, in the aftermath of that horrendous war, those leaders meet together. They are building with each other relationships of trust so that now, when they speak for peace and understanding, they speak together, with one voice. Now they are showing their people how living as neighbors is done. And now, whenever tensions rise again, they will be heard differently.

Here in Edgewater our purpose is the same. It is to show that we can be vibrantly, passionately, faithfully Protestant or Catholic or Muslim or Jew and still trust and love each other. It is to show that we can even admire what is beautiful in the other’s faith. And it is to lay the groundwork for speaking together on the crucial challenges that face us all. Even now we are making plans for a weekend next fall of joint interfaith action through all of Edgewater to address the scourge of gun violence.

Jesus said to his disciples, his dearest friends, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. If you would come to the Father, it must be through me.” This message is not for others. It is for us. For we cannot come to the Father by ourselves. On our own we are hopelessly lost. We need Jesus to show us the way.

Amen.