Sermon 5 Epiphany: John 2:13-25

‘Jesus in the true Temple’

 The story in today’s text is traditionally known as ‘Jesus cleansing the Temple’. A confirmation student some years ago suggested it should be known as ‘Jesus looses it.’ I doubt this title for the story would catch on, but is perhaps a more accurate description of what happens here than the image of cleansing the temple. It is the only time that Jesus is recorded as losing his temper. It is the only time that we see anything even approaching physical violence in Jesus. It seems to run counter to everything we expect Jesus do to. And yet this story of what occurred is so important that all four gospel writers include it in their accounts of Jesus’ life.

But before we can look at what this story means, we must consider another little problem. Matthew, Mark and Luke all place this story in the last week of Jesus’ life, just after the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. In this context the story takes on a certain significance. Jesus not only further enrages the Jewish authorities by this act, forcing them to finally show their hand, but he also disappoints the masses, who expected him to storm the Roman garrison and kick the Romans out of the city. And when he went instead to the temple after entering the city in great precession, they perhaps thought he was at least going to challenge the authority of the priesthood. Instead, he simply chased out a rabble of money changers and sellers of sacrificial animals. The disappointment would have been palpable. It plays a big role in helping to explain why the crowds were chanting ‘crucify him!’ only a few days after celebrating his entry into Jerusalem.

The story of the cleansing of the temple is difficult enough as it stands. John only adds to the difficulty when he places the story not in the last week of Jesus’ life, like the other gospels, but three years earlier, at the end of his very first week of ministry.

For the reader, let alone the reader who is also committed to preaching on such a text, this certainly throws a spanner in the works. But as we have seen with many other texts, when something confusing, out of place, or unexpected occurs, rather than ignore it or rush over it – this is precisely where we need to take a closer look to see what we are missing. It is often the case that it is precisely at such a point that we gain insight to the meaning of the text.

So let’s give it a go here.

Some have tried to resolve this problem by suggesting that Jesus must have cleansed the temple on two separate occasions. This is driven by the idea the gospel writers were thinking like modern historians. But they were not modern historians. They were more interested in the meaning of events than their sequence. And this is especially true of John. Almost all biblical scholars agree that the cleansing of the temple happened only once, and that it was almost certainly at the end of Jesus’ ministry. It is not likely that Jesus would have done the same thing twice, nor that the temple authorities would not have been ready for such an act a second time.

Others have suggested that as an old man John was confused about the chronology of events. But John does not seem confused about anything else. And John would have known the first three gospels very well from his own reading and from readings in Christian worship over the previous three decades. He would have known very well where this famous event was placed chronologically.

Others still have suggested that John felt the other three gospels had gotten the chronology of events wrong and he wanted to correct them. But there is nothing in this story that suggests he was trying to correct the three earlier evangelists. So if he was not relating an entirely different incident, was not confused, and was not trying to correct the other three gospels, this leaves only one option. John deliberately places this story out of sequence, knowing very well that his readers from the Christian community would immediately spot this change. So why would he do this?

In John’s gospel the story of the cleansing of the temple takes on a very different meaning than in the other gospels, precisely because of its placement.

After the wedding at Cana, in which Jesus made it clear to his mother that he wasn’t ready to publicly begin his ministry, he takes a few days off with his family and disciples in Capernaum, then heads straight to Jerusalem for the Passover.

What he finds in the temple angers him. The reasons for this are many. First, the obvious one that Jesus himself gives to the sellers of pigeons, is that they have turned God’s house, meant as a place of worship, into a marketplace. Not only this, but the business being conducted was taking advantage of ordinary people coming to Jerusalem for worship. Temple rules said pagan money could not be used for temple business, so, conveniently money changers were available to turn their Greek, Syrian, and Roman coins for Jewish ones, at a good rate for the moneychangers, of course, which was shared with the Temple authorities.

Then there was the matter of the animals sold for sacrifice. A poor person could buy a dove for sacrifice outside the temple for less than a quarter of the price. But only spotless animals were accepted for sacrifice, and the Temple authorities were in the habit of rejecting any animal or bird not purchased at exorbitant rates from the Temple itself. These practices, cheating ordinary people out of a great deal of money just to fulfil their religious obligations, would have also made Jesus angry.

A third point is that tradition has it that it was the Court of Gentiles where this business took place. Mark reflects this when he reports Jesus as saying the temple is ‘house of prayer for all the nations’ (11:17). It was the only place in the Temple where non-Jews were allowed to come and worship the true God. And the Temple authorities showed so little concern for the worship of God by those from other nations that they filled the area with money changers and livestock sellers, making it impossible for a non-Jew to worship at the Temple. This would have also made Jesus angry. 

All of this anger was interpreted by Jesus’ disciples interpret as ‘zeal’ for the Temple, recalling Psalm 69:9. For them, this showed not only Jesus’ great piety and concern for right worship, but also that he was the messiah.

Significantly, John adds three bits of information not in the synoptic accounts. First, he reports that Jesus made a whip of cords (v. 15) to drive out the animals and the moneychangers. This tells us two things about what happened. First, this action of Jesus what not premeditated. He did not bring a whip with him to drive out the livestock but had to make one on the spot. And second, though Jesus showed anger he was not out of control. He did not charge after people and animals like a wild man, but took the time to make a whip to drive the lot out.

The second point unique to John’s account is that he reports the disciples immediately recalling Psalm 69:9, ‘It is zeal for you house that has consumed me.’

The audacity of what Jesus does is breath-taking. The authorities demand a sign to show that he is allowed to do this. And this is the third point that John includes in this account that the other gospels do not. The authorities want proof that Jesus speaks for God, for only God could challenge the operation of the sacred temple in Jerusalem. And the reader of John’s gospel will be very familiar with concept of a sign. John has just introduced it in the previous story, where Jesus does his first sign at the wedding of Cana. So we have Jesus performing sign reluctantly in an insignificant village in Galilee to a group of people of no particular social standing in Jewish society. But then a few days later he is asked for a sign by the Jewish leaders at the Temple itself, in front of great crowds present for Passover, and he refuses to give them one. Instead, he tells them that the only sign they will get is when the temple is torn down and he rebuilds it in three days. These words were not meant to be understood by the Jewish authorities. They were for the disciples to recall later, after his death and resurrection. But lest we think that Jesus was all out of miracles, we are told in v. 23 that he went out afterward and did many ‘signs’ that caused people to believe in him. It is John’s way of telling us that the sign at Cana was not a fluke. Jesus was quite able to perform visible signs, or miracles, but he chose not to at this point. He was not in the business of performing signs and miracles on command, especially not at the request of the authorities.

So what does this all mean?

Clearly, John wants to highlight the importance of the Temple. This is where God is to be found and worshiped. And John wants his readers to be very clear that Jesus is God. And the temple system of sacrifice is one that Jesus has come to end as the Lamb of God who will be the final sacrifice for sins. So bringing Jesus to the Temple at the very start of his ministry shows who Jesus is and what his relationship with the temple and it’s sacrificial system is. This story answers and a number of question and sets an important tone for Jesus’ ministry at the very outset.

Interestingly, early church tradition, based on a statement made by Polycrates, the bishop of Ephesus, where John lived and died a century earlier, states that John was both the beloved disciple who wrote this gospel, and also a Jewish priest known to wear the sacerdotal plate of his office. If John came from a priestly family, they could well have spent the majority of the year when they were not serving at the Temple fishing. If John was a priest, or from a priestly family, it would also explain the mystery of how an apparently simple fisherman from Galilee was ‘known to the high priest’ and was thus able to go into the high priest’s courtyard with Jesus for his trial (John 18:15,16). And it would also explain why the temple held such prominence in John’s thinking – so much so that he chose to place this story, though out of sequence, near the very beginning of his gospel.

As we have already seen, John loves spoilers. He begins his gospel by revealing that Jesus is God, and this is reinforced, as we saw last week, by Jesus’ first sign. Then John reveals that Jesus will be the sacrificial Lamb of God, who dies for the sins of the world.. And now he reveals that Jesus will be raised from the dead on the third day. John is two chapters into his gospel and he has basically given away the whole plot.

But John is not writing a dramatic account, like Mark, or a historical record, like Luke. John wants to tell us the things Jesus taught. He wants to show us who Jesus was by his words and deeds. He has stated his case for Jesus at the outset. And part of that it putting the story of the cleansing of the Temple in the at the end of the first week of his ministry instead of the beginning of the last. For a Jewish way of thinking and writing stories, it is a very symbolic and chiastic move.

Telling the story, in part, from back to front, with the deity of Christ, the death and resurrection, and the cleansing of the temple from the last week of his life all at the beginning, might strike us as odd. It is like a writer friend of mine who never reads a novel without reading the last chapter first. She wants to know from the beginning where she is going so that she doesn’t miss or misunderstand anything along the way. That is what John is doing for us here by beginning his account of Jesus’ life and ministry in this way. He has some important points to make about who Jesus is. And he doesn’t want anyone to miss them along the way.

So beginning his gospel like this, and putting the account of the cleansing of the temple near the start, John is now free to build his case for Jesus being not only the Messiah, but God in human flesh. The point John is making is that Jesus is the one who can rebuild the Temple, which is where we find God on earth. And he can do this because Jesus himself is the true temple. Jesus himself is God on earth.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

John 2:1-12:
St Peter’s Lutheran Church, Port Macquarie

Organising major events is not easy. Just over three years ago our family was organising the wedding of our daughter Chelsea. The fact that it was taking place in the midst of Covid chaos, not knowing if it would be cancelled at the last moment, did not help. In the end we had restrictions on the number attending, had to have special approval to have a reception on private property (our home) and had to ensure everyone remained 1.5 metres apart. If this was not challenging enough, both the wedding and the reception were to be held outdoors. As the wedding was in early December, the chances of warm, dry weather were very good. In the end, it turned out to be one of coldest, wettest and windiest December days on record. Almost nothing that had been organised was able to proceed as planned.

Now spare a thought for those organising the wedding held in Cana in Galilee, a small village visible from Nazareth. Jewish wedding celebrations of the time, especially those held in small towns and villages, often ran for several days. Food wine and musicians were organized well in advance. There was no local Coles or Foodland to run off to if anything was forgotten or found to be in short supply. At these weddings one of the most important aspects was the provision of wine. This often came out in courses and it was such an important part of the celebrations that a chief steward was appointed, something like a master of ceremonies, whose job was to check the quality of each new batch of wine, propose a toast, and see that it was distributed. To run short of wine was a tremendous social embarrassment. It would have been seen as a failure of hospitality, held to be a sacred duty in the ancient Near-East. It was the kind of mistake that no one in such a small community would ever forget. But that is exactly what happened in the story of the wedding at Cana.

How did this disaster occur? We do not know all the facts, but one thing we do know. One of the wedding guests had just made at least five new disciples in the three or four days preceding the wedding and showed up with them all in tow. There were no mobile phones or emails so of course Jesus could not call ahead as he made his way from Bethany beyond the Jordan and then to Bethsaida before heading home to Nazareth and the wedding in the nearby village of Cana. When Jesus showed up with the group, with his mother either a close relative or friend of the family, they would have had little choice but to invite and welcomes them all. Of course, the disaster was not entirely the fault of Jesus and his disciples. If five extra people showing up at a wedding caused the wine to run out early, then the organisers were clearly cutting things a bit too fine in their calculations.

However the situation came about, it was a major disaster for the bride and groom. Mary, who was clearly part of the wedding planning group, was one of the few to learn of the problem. Not even the master of ceremonies had yet been told. And Mary goes straight to her son Jesus. Does she do this because his bringing along so many extra guests had contributed to the problem? Does she do this because, even though Jesus had not yet used his divine power in any miraculous way, she knew he was the only one who could intervene? Perhaps a bit of both elements were in play.

What we do know is that Mary goes to her son and says simply, ‘They have no wine.’ The problem could not be more pointedly or clearly stated.

At this point the exchange between Mary and Jesus becomes a little perplexing – at least for the modern reader. Jesus responds to his mother by saying, ‘Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.’

Firstly, we need to deal with the fact Jesus seems to be speaking a bit rudely here to his mother. But this is not the case. The problem is more one of translation. There are many examples from the ancient world of people addressing their mother in this way. Josephus tells of a man who was very fond of his wife calling her ‘Woman,’ Odysseus in Homer’s Odessy calls his wife Penelope ‘Woman’, and Caesar addresses Cleopatra as ‘Woman.’ It is also a word Jesus uses once more in John’s Gospel when he speaks to his mother from the cross. Because we do not speak this way in modern English, there is no good way to translate this. The meaning and tone of what Jesus says here is probably best preserved if we simply leave off the word ‘Woman.’

The next difficulty is that Jesus now uses another phrase that does not translate well. Literally, he says ‘What do you have to do with me?’, but all would agree that it means something like, ‘What does this have to do with us?’ or ‘What concern is that ours?’ And some even that it means something like, ‘Why worry about this. I will take care of it.’

The second part of Jesus’ response to his mother is also somewhat perplexing. He says, ‘My hour has not yet come.’  Jesus often uses this phrase to speak of his coming death. But he also uses it to denote the beginning of his public ministry. Mary simply told Jesus they were out of wine. Is he assuming that she is implying that he should use his divine power, which he has not previously used, at this time? Is he explaining why he is not going to intervene at this point? Most would agree that with only five of his disciples chosen, and none of them with him for even a week, it is too early to launch into signs and wonders. This will start rumours, draw crowds, and accelerate the timetable for his ministry.

In summary, almost everything Jesus says to his mother in response to her informing him of the seriously embarrassing problem with the wedding celebrations, is a bit perplexing. But none of it is as perplexing as Mary’s response. She simply turns to the servants, who likely followed her to the table where Jesus was sitting, and says to them, ‘Do whatever he asks you to do.’

So Jesus basically tells his mother that the shortage of wine is not their concern, then explains why he is not in a position to do anything about it, as it is not yet his time to begin to reveal who he is. And Mary seems to ignore everything he has just said, indeed, acts as if he had just said, ‘Thanks for letting me know about this problem, Mum. I will take care of it.’ And she simply tells the servants to follow his instructions.

Well, you have heard the rest of the story. Jesus asks them to fill with water six large stone jars used to hold the water for ritual washing of hands, feet and dishes as required by Jewish law. Significantly, he did not ask them to fill the empty wine flasks with water. There certainly would have been plenty laying around. The servants do as they are asked. Then Jesus asks them to draw off some of what is in the jars and take it to master of ceremonies. He tastes it, becomes quite excited, and stops the celebrations to make a little speech commending the bridegroom for saving the very highest quality of wine for last, when the guests wouldn’t be likely to notice or care if cheaper wine were brought out.

So what is the significance of this miracle?

First, John, unlike the other gospels, does not call these actions of Jesus miracles, but rather signs, highlighting what they point to. Second, we are told that this was the very first of the signs or miracles of Jesus. And looking at the chronology of miracles in the other gospels, this would precede any recorded in them as well. So it is a very important miracle.

Also, there is clear baptismal and Lord’s supper imagery with the focus on water and wine. It is the first of a series of stories featuring water. And the six jars used to fulfil the ritual washing required by Jewish law clearly are meant to be a contrast to the approach of grace that Jesus brings,> Jesus uses vessels meant to fulfil the law to bring life and joy.

As to what the primary significance of this miracle is, the text itself points us in the right direction. John concludes his account by telling us that in performing this sign Jesus ‘revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.’  When John speaks of the glory of Jesus in his gospel he refers to his deity. So something about this miracle must have prompted Jesus’ first disciples, who had already come to believe Jesus was the promised Messiah, to now believe he was far more than this.

But how could this particular, seemingly mundane miracle have led them to this conclusion? In the history of New Testament studies this miracle has often come in for some heavy criticism. In many circles it was common to call it a luxury miracle because it didn’t seem to be necessary, didn’t heal anyone, didn’t show power over the devil, didn’t feed the multitudes. It simply helped a gathering of wedding guests in a small town in Galilee extend their celebrations. How much better it would have been, many suggested, if Jesus’ first miracle had been to heal someone who was lame, or give sight to a blind person, or cure someone of leprosy, or even to resuscitate someone who had died. This would have not only shown Jesus’ power in a more spectacular way, it is argued, but would have also set the tone for the compassionate nature of his ministry.

So was this a missed opportunity? A pointless miracle?

Hardly.

The Jews at Jesus’ time distinguished different categories of miracles, as seen in various Old Testament stories. First, there were miracles of healing. Second, there were miracles that showed control of nature, like the parting the Red Sea or making water flow out of stone. Third there were miracles of extension, for instance multiplying the oil and meal of the widow of Zarephath so that in never ran out. Jesus did all these kinds of miracles in his ministry. He healed the sick and even raised the dead. He walked on water and calmed the storm. And he caused few fish and loaves of bread to not run out, even for a crowd of several thousand. Every miracle that Jesus performed had a close parallel to a miracle performed by Moses or one of the prophets. Every miracle, that is, but one. This one.

This first miracle does not fit into any of these categories according the traditional Jewish understanding.  It is not a healing miracle. It is not a miracle of mere extension. If Jesus had had the empty wine vessels filled with water it might have been argued that the remaining traces of wine had been extended. By using stone water containers, this is not possible. And it is not showing simple control or nature, that is, power over elements that already exist.

But there was a final category of miracle that the Jews knew of. But they did not often consider it in their list of types of miracles because it only happened once, and is only something God himself can do. And that is a miracle of creation. Jesus creates something out of something that was not. He creates wine where there was not wine. This sign of Jesus could only be considered a miracle of creation. And in the traditional Jewish understanding, only God creates and this only happened in the account of creation recorded at the beginning of Genesis. An account John has strongly alluded to in his opening words of the gospel. So the association of God and the act of creation would be at the top of readers’ minds.

By performing this miracle first, Jesus begins his ministry not with a mundane or pointless miracle. He begins it with a miracle that shows that he is God. It is the only such miracle of creation Jesus performs. Every other miracle performed by Jesus is done to help those in need or distress. But this first miracle is different. It fits with an overarching theme of John’s gospel, which begins with the claim that the Word, or Jesus, is God. The gospel of John makes the claim the Jesus is God more often and more explicitly than any of the other gospels. It is only fitting that the first miracle, or sign, performed by Jesus and recorded by John should underscore who Jesus is. Jesus begins his ministry with a seemingly small act. But it is one that shows who he is. The creator, God himself come to us on earth.

Imagine that. The Creator of the universe cared enough to save a wedding celebration in a village in Galilee. One wonders what a God like that will do next. A God like that is a God we can believe in, like the disciples did. He is a God who cares for us in our ordinary concerns of life, both the joys and sorrows. He is a God who reveals his glory in Christ. A God who reveals his glory, his deity, in ordinary things. A God who reveals his glory and care for us, finally and indelibly, on the cross. This a God that we, too, can believe in.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

Sermon for 3 Epiphany
John 1:35-51
St Peter’s Lutheran Church, Port Macquarie

With today’s text we come to the end of the first chapter of John’s gospel. We have seen the revelation of who Jesus really is, the Word made flesh. We have been introduced to John the Baptist, whose preaching prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry. We saw John announce that Jesus was the Lamb of God, and that he was the one people must now look to. And now, we find two brief accounts of the calling of Jesus’ first disciples.

Some of you may have seen some of the episodes of the series The Chosen. It is well worth the effort if you are not familiar with it. The focus of the series is on the disciples of Jesus, including the many women like Mary of Magdala who followed Jesus during his earthly ministry. They are portrayed as interesting and diverse people, with very real fears and hopes. The series has helped raise interest in Jesus’ disciples. And through following the experiences of the disciples, the viewers are led to think more about Jesus himself.

In first-century Palestine it was a big deal to become the student or disciple of a rabbi, especially a prominent one. Most rabbis would have one or two disciples at most. Enough to replace them. Some, who were more famous, had more. John the Baptist, though not technically a rabbi, had a similar authority. He seems to have had a number of disciples. The disciples of a rabbi were meant not only to assist the rabbi, but also to learn the rabbi’s craft by watching him and then doing the things themselves that their rabbi did. That was the ultimate goal of the disciple.

Normally a rabbi’s disciples would seek out the role of disciple, much like one today might apply for an apprenticeship. They were young men who had done well in their religious instruction classes and often brought a strong reference or endorsement from their home rabbi. Jesus departs from this practice in two key ways. First, the disciples he calls, for the most part, are men who would never have sought such a role. And if they had, they would not have been considered remotely qualified to become a religious disciple, a rabbi in training. Second, Jesus appears to have sought out his disciples, often from unlikely places, and accepted them with no interview, references or trial period. Anyone familiar with the practice of discipleship from the period would realise from these very early stories of the calling of Jesus’ disciples that Jesus was no ordinary rabbi.

In the first of the two stories of the calling of Jesus’ first disciples an important point is made about the transition of attention and authority from the forerunner, John the Baptist, to Jesus. This is beautifully done with John’s proclamation, on two successive days, that Jesus is the Lamb of God (1:29 and 36). The second time John says this two of his own disciples take notice and turn to follow Jesus. John’s repetition of the exclamation: ‘Look! The Lamb of God’ ties the first calling story to the scene of John and Jesus at the river Jordan when John witnesses the Spirit of God descending upon Jesus.

When Jesus sees these two young men following him he asks them what they are looking for. It was not uncommon for a rabbi to ask a potential student what their motivation is for wanting to learn from him. Even in the modern world famous teachers, gurus and elite groups often ask those who desire join them what their motivation is. Sometimes the potential disciple or student is given some time, even days, to consider their answer. Many times a teacher would reject the initial answer, forcing the student to think more deeply. A thoughtful, even profound response, was a promising sign. But if we are expecting the answer of Jesus first two disciples to be something exceptionally profound, we are disappointed. What we get seems almost mundane. ‘Where are you staying?’ They might as well as asked what Jesus had had for lunch, or what the harvest had been like last year in Galilee. It strikes us as small talk.

But what is exceptional is Jesus’ response. He does not ask them to think again about what they are looking for. He does not ask them any questions about their motivation or background. He does not ask John the Baptist whether these are his best students, or simply a couple of left-overs. Instead, he simply says; ‘Come and see.’ Remember these words. Along with ‘Look, the Lamb of God,’ ‘come and see’ is one of the key phrases used to connect these three small sections together.

And the two young men begin here to act like disciples. The rabbi says come and see, and they ‘came and saw.’  More than that, they stayed with Jesus the rest of that day until it was four in the afternoon.

For the modern reader, this might seem an odd detail. For those familiar with first-century Judaism, the significance of this detail is immediately clear. It was most likely the day before the Sabbath. Because on no other day was the time of 4 p.m. significant. But on the eve the Sabbath, at 4 p.m., a traveller was required to stay in the place or home they were at to keep the Sabbath. So the act of Jesus allowing the two to remain until 4 p.m., and their remaining this long, is a signal that both parties were willing to spend the Sabbath together. It is a sign that the relationship was to be a significant and lasting one.

Now what do we know about these first two disciples? First, we know that they had been disciples of John. So they are the only of the twelve disciples Jesus eventually calls who have any real discipleship experience. Their transfer of allegiance to Jesus, and John’s apparent endorsement of this, is a sign to all who were observing these events that there was a transfer of authority and ministry taking place. John is passing the baton to the one whose coming he was preparing.

We know also that one of these disciples was named Andrew. The other is not named. This is odd, as by the end of the next section there will be five disciples, and the other four are all named. The most likely explanation is that that the second of the first two disciples was John the Evangelist, the writer of this account. It was customary for writers not to name themselves directly. Hence John’s reference to himself in the later parts of the Gospel simply as ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved.’ It would also explain how John knew a detail of this early encounter as specific as the fact that the first two disciples stayed with Jesus until 4 p.m. He knew this because he was there. Our writer, as a former disciple of John the Baptist, appears to be giving us an eyewitness account of the life and ministry of Jesus from the time Jesus appears at the banks of the Jordan to meet John the Baptist.

We also know that these first two disciples were convinced that John the Baptist had pointed them to the long-awaited Messiah. For Andrew goes to find his brother Simon, and tells him, ‘We have found the Messiah.’ There is no doubt or question in these words. He does not say, ‘We have found a great teacher’ or, ‘We have found a man who might just be the messiah’ but, ‘We have found the Messiah.’ And so here we find another key element of discipleship: A true disciple cannot help but bring others to their teacher and his teaching. So now the disciples number three. And Andrew’s brother Simon, also without any apparent interview, is welcomed by Jesus and named Cephas, or Peter.

The next few verses tell us the story of the next two disciples. This account stands out from the first in that Jesus finds these two on his own. He does not simply pick up more of John’s disciples.  Jesus is not taking over John’s ministry. He is beginning his own unique ministry.

This second disciple calling story begins, like the previous two sections, with the words, ‘the next day.’ As we pointed out last week, this language is a literary device meant to show the speed and pace at which things were now happening. Bethany on the Jordan, about 9 kms north of the Dead Sea, would have been well over a 100 km walk to Galilee. Jesus and his disciples were certainly very fit, but not that fit! It would be a big effort for a modern distance runner on a flat trail with running shoes and no pack to make. But walking over hilly terrain in sandals and with a bag for a change of clothes, along with food and water … well, it isn’t going to happen. And the readers would see this straight away and recognise that the writer was not trying to tell them that they all literally showed up the next day in Bethsaida in Galilee.

And it is Bethsaida where they seem to end up. This is where Andrew and Simon Peter are from, so it makes sense they would make a stop there. They likely will want to explain to their families what has happened to them. And Philip is from the same town, so this likely where Jesus meets him. Perhaps Simon Peter introduced him to Jesus, having himself been introduced to Jesus by his brother Andrew. However it happened, the Evangelist tells us that Jesus finds Philip. The point is that it is the rabbi who finds and choses his disciples.

Importantly, we find two key repetitions, in this section. First, Just like Andrew found his brother Simon and told him about Jesus, now Philip goes and finds his friend Nathanael and tells him about Jesus. And the second repletion from the previous section is of the words ‘come and see.’  But this time they are spoken by Philip when he invites the skeptical Nathanael to come and see Jesus for himself. The disciples are already acting like disciples. They are telling others about Jesus, and they are doing what their rabbi does. Jesus invited the first two disciples to come and see. Now it is one of his own new disciples giving this invitation.

Now there is an important point about famous teachers. Their students or disciples hung off their every word. In this first chapter of John’s gospel Jesus is a man of very few words. So the reader who wants to be a follower of Jesus will be listening very closely to every word Jesus says. Especially the first words that are recorded. And while brief, Jesus first four recorded sayings are profound.  But they are profound. Take a look at today’s reading. Have you spotted them?  ‘What are you looking for?’, ‘Come and see,’ you will be called Peter, the rock,’ and ‘follow me.’

In these first four saying we find a summary of what it means to be a disciple, especially a disciple of Jesus.

First, Jesus asks the disciple to consider what is they are seeking. ‘What are you looking for? We considered the significance of this question last week, picking up as it does on the multiple repetition of the various forms of the verb ‘to see’ in this text. The first question for any of us who seek to follow Jesus is an introspective one. What are we looking for? What is it we seek? What is it that we need.

Second, continuing the theme of ‘seeing’ Jesus invites the disciple ‘come and see’ for themselves. He doesn’t ask the disciples to sign on to the program blindly without asking any questions. He invites them instead to come and see what he does and who he is.

Third, Jesus transforms completely those who follow him. Such a transformation is symbolised by giving someone an entirely new name, you will be called Peter, Jesus says to Simon, just like God gave Abram and Jacob new names. When we follow Jesus, we will be transformed.

Fourth and finally, Jesus invites the disciple to follow him. This invitation, this challenge, comes only at the end of the series, not the beginning. Here Jesus invited the disciples to act on what they have thought about, what they have seen, the change they have experienced through Jesus’ teaching. So, too, we are challenged today, after experiencing the transformation of Jesus in our lives, to take up the call to follow him, to be a disciple of Jesus, inviting others to come and see Jesus, and act like Jesus, doing and saying the things we have learned from him.

It is only after these four short discipleship saying that Jesus begins to teach, and to tell the disciples they will indeed see much more than expected. They will see heaven opened. They will see the Son of Man. And Jesus does not cease teaching the disciples throughout the remainder the rest of John’s Gospel.

By telling us the story of these first five disciples, by telling us his own story, John invites us into the story of discipleship. We are challenged to look to the Lamb of God who takes away our sins, to come and see Jesus, to follow Jesus, and to tell others about Jesus. This is what every disciple is called to do. It is what Jesus calls each of us to do.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

Mark 1:15

You may have noticed how journalists carefully followed Catherine, the Duchess of Cambridge, and Prince William, when Catherine was pregnant. The journalists analysed every sentence spoken, the slight movement of Catherine’s hand across the ‘baby bump’, and even what the Duchess wore in order to glean a bit more information about the yet-to-be-born royal baby. A magazine journal thought it had a scoop when it published an article saying that twins were about to be added to the royal family. A TV presenter announced that the royal baby would be a princess because the Duchess wore a pink coat. Really! Are we supposed to believe such trashy news?

Today we hear from the gospel writer, Mark. He records the first words from Jesus after his baptism.  Mark says this is “Good News from God”.  We wait with expectation.  What will Jesus say?  Will he say something eloquent, wise, deep and meaningful?  Will everyone gasp and swoon as he speaks this glad announcement from God?  To paraphrase, he says, “The time has come, and the kingdom of God is within reach, so turn your life around and get on board”. Is that all?  I checked Matthew and Luke and they don’t even have this much. Not really a grand entrance.  The heavens didn’t open to reveal the Messiah as prophesied. No “Tada, here I am after centuries of waiting; the messiah you’ve been waiting for”. No three cheers from the crowd. 

In fact, Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God, but he never stops to define what he means.

So let’s talk about kingdoms in general for a minute. If I asked around the room what images come to mind when one thinks of the word ‘kingdom’, I believe we would get quite a few different responses.  Some might think of the kingdoms of fairy tales, others, the ‘Game of Thrones’ or ‘Lord of the Rings’ type of kingdoms, and others, like myself, who enjoy medieval history might have a much darker image of kingdoms with heartless kings, greedy nobles, poverty and disease. The word is surrounded with a lot of baggage.

If I had the time I would take you on a study through the Old Testament to understand the rule of God, his kingdom and how the concept of the kingship took on messianic and futuristic qualities.  The kingship of God doesn’t carry with it any of the negative authoritarian, oppressive, implications of Israel’s past kings.  This Old Testament understanding of Kingdom of God included hope, joy, peace, a new beginning, a new king, a new Israel and the great feeling of coming home. 

I’m going to use the word ‘culture’ to explain God’s kingdom.  Now that might seem a strange word to use, but let me explain using the following example. 

There was a couple who had three lovely granddaughters, whose mother was French.  Her parents live in a small, pretty French village in the Loire Valley.  When they visited them, they had to forget about their own culture and the way they did things and totally immerse themselves in everything that is French: speaking only the French language, preparing food the French way, how it is eaten the French way, including how you break, not cut, your baguettes, the way an aperitif is served before dinner, the way you eat your evening meal over several hours with several courses and wine to suit each one, and eating only one type of food at a time – not mixing everything together as is the custom in Australia.

You see, culture is us. Culture is who we are and how we do things, and what we value and stand for.  Culture shapes the way we behave, what we say. It shapes our whole life. 

I think you might understand why I chose the word ‘culture’ to explain the impact of Jesus’ announcement that the Kingdom of God is here.  Jesus is announcing that with the coming of God’s kingdom there is a culture shift. Now is the time to abandon (repent, turn away from) the values of the culture of this world and get on board.  It’s time to immerse yourself in God’s new culture, God’s new way of living, a new way of looking at the past, present and future, God’s new values of hope, love, forgiveness, compassion, boldness, and so on. To be immersed in the culture of God is major change in a person’s life. 

The disciples Jesus called that day along the shore of Lake Galilee heard Jesus say simply, “Come with me”. “Come with me and turn away from the culture, the lifestyle that is focussed on yourselves, your sinfulness.  Come with me and turn away from the culture of this world with all its distractions and self-centredness that drives a wedge between you and God, and get on board God’s culture; God’s new way of living that changes the way you think about the world and others, the way you see nature, the people around you and yourself, the way you interact with the pain and hurt and suffering in the community around you.  Come and get on board with this radical new turnaround”. 

As we heard in the anecdote about getting to know the French culture, it takes a while to be fully immersed in a culture that is a radical shift from what we are accustomed.  That day along the shore of Lake Galilee, the disciples made the first big step getting on board with the new culture of the Kingdom of God.  It took a while for them to fully realise what this meant – it took them the next 3 years and the rest of their lives.  Mark records the beginning of their new journey – “At once they left their nets and went with him” (v18). 

So what has all this to say to us today?  I dare say many of you have you been participants in the church for many years, maybe a lifetime, others a shorter time but no less dedicated.  That doesn’t matter.  It’s easy to take for granted the Kingdom of God and the radical shift this brings into our lives.  It’s easy to miss this culture change, because that part of our inner nature that constantly urges us to become self-focussed, inward looking, putting me-first, stating I-want-my-way, gradually and unnoticeably takes over.  In actual fact, without us even realising it, a coup takes place – a culture other than the Kingdom of God takes over; we adopt ways and values that we realise are all wrong.  We might have been on board once, but somewhere along the way we’ve got off.

Throughout Paul’s letters he urges his readers to follow the way of Jesus not the ways of the world.  You see, as Christians we live in a situation of constant tension between what is God’s way and what is the way of our own desires and the world.  As people who follow Christ, who live in the culture of the Kingdom of God, as those who have been baptised in Christ and put on the nature and characteristics of Jesus – his love and compassion, his gentleness and forgiveness, his patience and self-giving, his focus on the needs of others before his own needs – as we live in this kind of atmosphere and culture this will often bring us into a conflict with ourselves and also with the values and acceptable standards of the people around us, many of whom we know and love dearly.  Being “in Christ” is a tough call.  Getting on board with the culture of the Kingdom of God is a real challenge.

Let’s hear from the apostle Paul.  He says, “Don’t copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” (Rom 12:2) or as he says in Ephesians, “Since you are God’s dear children, you must try to be like him. Your life must be controlled by love, just as Christ loved us and gave his life for us” (Eph. 5:1,2). 

In Philippians he says, “All I want to know is Christ”.  Paul is talking about a Christianity that’s not just in our heads but influences and affects and infects everything in our lives.  Not one corner of our being is to be left untouched by the “new thing” that Jesus brings into our lives.  We are to be totally immersed, soaked, saturated in the culture of the Kingdom of God. Paul often talks about becoming more and more “like Christ”.

Coming up on our calendars is Australia Day – a day when we celebrate the good things about our country, and without a doubt, we have so much to be happy about and to thank God.  There are many good things to celebrate in our Aussie culture.  But let’s not be so patriotic that we don’t see that Australian culture will put us in conflict with the culture of the Kingdom of God.  Being “in Christ”, “bearing the image of Christ”, being “like Christ” is a challenge in our modern world.  It’s easier to blend into our Aussie culture and accept even what we know goes against our calling to be “like Christ”.

We know that the apostle Paul struggled within himself about how well he followed Christ’s way.  He said that he knew what was the right thing to do, but for some reason he kept on doing the wrong thing.  That sounds very familiar doesn’t it?  And like Paul, we know that in the Kingdom of God we find the forgiveness and newness that Christ has won for us.

The world, our nation, needs you and me to be “like Christ”. Which culture do we allow to shape our hearts, minds, attitudes, lifestyles, relationships with people nearby and faraway—and not the least with God himself?  What is it that forms our identity – is it the culture of the world or is it the mind of Christ?  The Kingdom of God, the culture of God, has come to you.  Christ is in you; you are in Christ! Amen. 

John 1:29-51: 
2 Epiphany

The various sections of John’s Gospel are much more interlinked than those of the synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke. Indeed, it is hard to understand today’s text of John 1:35-42 without looking at the end of last week’s text, and next week’s text as well. The entire section is separated into three distinct but inter-connected parts, each beginning with the words ‘the next day’ in verses 29, 35 and 43. And this literary device also ties today’s text in with the story of the wedding at Cana, which begins in chapter two with the words ‘on the third day.’

The repetition of ‘the next day’ gives the story pace. John wants us to know that everything is happening quickly, not just ‘some time later’. It starts with John the Baptist saying that he was not the Messiah, but that the Messiah was about to appear, indeed, was already among them. For a community anxiously awaiting the coming of the Messiah this would have been very exciting news. Then, ‘the next day,’ John identifies Jesus as the Lamb of God (v. 29) and we move quickly into the calling of the first disciples.

Next week we will look at this extended again, with attention to Jesus’ calling of his first five disciples. This week, we will focus on the 17-fold repetition of various words meaning ‘to see’, most of these being forms of the verb orao (όράω). We find the word in past, present and future tense, as participle, as imperative. The use so often of forms of ‘to see’ in this text is no accident. Deliberate repetition of words and themes was a well-known device for underscoring a point and getting a reader’s attention in both Hebrew and Greek literature.

The looking/seeing action starts immediately after the first ‘the next day,’ when we read that John ‘saw Jesus coming toward him.’  This is the first appearance of Jesus as a human figure in the Gospel. The Word that became flesh now has a name. He is real person ‘dwelling among us.’ And his name is Jesus.

And as soon as John sees Jesus, what does he do? He points others to him by declaring: ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.’ (v. 29). We also read in this section that John saw the Spirit descending upon him, points out that others have seen the Spirit descend and remain upon him, and that John himself has seen (with his own eyes) and testifies to what he has seen. For John, the Gospel writer, seeing is a way of portraying faith. John the Baptist sees Jesus, has faith that this is the Messiah, confesses him to be the Lamb of God, then asks others to see Jesus. So quite literally, in John’s gospel seeing is believing. To see Jesus, is to believe in Jesus.

But now we go to the next section of the text, set apart again by the repetition of ‘the next day.’ We are still with John and we are still keeping with the theme of seeing. John watched as Jesus walked by and calls out, just like the day before: ‘Look! Here is the Lamb of God!’ The identification of Jesus as the Lamb God is important as John says it twice. The second time he no longer needs to add the description of what Jesus does as the Lamb of God, that is, he takes away the sin of the world. His hearers will remember this from the previous day. But he does repeat the call to ‘look.’  We are meant to look to Jesus. We are meant to see Jesus. At this point John leaves the story, at least for a time, and we move to the account of Jesus and his first disciples. But the theme of seeing continues to build.

It is now Jesus who does the seeing. Jesus sees two of John’s disciples following him. And it is here that Jesus speaks his first words in John’s Gospel. And his words are these: ‘What are you looking for?’ Not ‘why are you following me?’ but ‘What are you looking for?’ The theme of looking and seeing is not only continued, but accentuated when Jesus takes up the theme in his very first recorded sentence in John’s Gospel.

This must have thrown these two new disciples off. They were perhaps prepared for a welcome, or some question about their qualifications to be disciples. But Jesus cuts to the chase. What he wants to know, and what he wants them to think about is, ‘what are they looking for.’

I wonder how we might have responded in their place? I wonder how we would respond today? If when you entered the worship space this morning someone had asked; ‘What are you looking for?’ How would you have responded?  Perhaps you would’ve dismissed the question as being inappropriate. Perhaps you would’ve cheekily said, ‘How would I know until I have found it.’ But no clever answer can diminish the force of the question. When we seek Jesus, here in this worship space, in our private devotional space, in the depths of our innermost thoughts, in the midst of whatever pain we might be feeling or issues we are struggling with, the question remains valid. What are we looking for when seek Jesus?

I suppose if the two disciples had been very quick thinking they could have said, ‘John has already given the answer. We are seeking the Lamb of God. We want our sins to be taken away. We want to see the sins of the world taken away.’

But that is not what these two disciples said. Instead, they said simply, ‘Teacher, where are you staying?’ It seems like a bit of small talk. Maybe they are overawed. Perhaps it was their roundabout way of asking if they could stay with Jesus and become his followers. Whatever the intent behind this rather unexpected response to a very big question, Jesus does not discourage them. Perhaps there was no right or wrong answer to his question. Surely, some of us began to follow Jesus because we were looking for answers to life’s big questions. Some of us wanted to live a better life. Some of us sought forgiveness or the lifting of some burden we carried. But I have encountered many who began attending church or Bible study, or reading the Bible because they wanted to meet or impress some young man or woman in the congregation. Or they were bored or curious. Or in my own case, I was cold and the Bible story group meet in a heated room during school recess.  But whether our initial reasons seemed noble or mundane, the response of Jesus in the same. ‘Come and see.’ It’s not about what we think we are looking for. It is about who we see.

Notice Jesus continues with the theme of seeing. John had seen for himself. Now Jesus invites these two young men to come and see for themselves. At the beginning of this process of becoming disciples, it is Jesus who takes the initiative. Jesus asks them the probing question. Jesus invites them to come and see. As the Gospel writer reminds us later (15:16) Jesus says to his disciples, ‘You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you.’

We also note that the disciples’ question, the question that prompted Jesus’ invitation, was the simple one about where Jesus was staying. Jesus was surely referring to much more than ‘come and see the quiet and clean room I have rented.’ He has taken the seemingly mundane concern of the disciples and turned it into a life-transforming invitation. So the two disciples went with Jesus, and they saw the place where he was staying, and they remained with him. Note those words in verse 39. ‘They remained with him.’ This is the true beginning of their seeing. They saw more than Jesus’ accommodation. What they saw was Jesus. And seeing Jesus led one of the two, Andrew, to go and tell his brother, ‘We have found the Messiah!’ The process of discipleship (and we will explore this in more depth next week) is now well and truly taking hold.

But there is more to be seen in this text. There is much more that Jesus wants his disciples to see; much more that he wants us to see.

The third part of this passage is again marked out by the words, ‘the next day.’ The next day Jesus goes to Galilee. Now, it is not possible to go from the Bethany by the Jordan, which is about nine kilometres north of the Dead Sea, to Bethasida in Galilee in a day. Everyone knew that. The distance was well over a hundred kilometres. But that was not the point. The point John as the teller of this story is making, once again, is that things are happening quickly. There is an urgency in the transfer of action from John the Baptist, to Jesus, to the calling of the first disciples.

In this third section Jesus finds Philip (again note that Jesus takes the initiative in the relationship with the disciples). Again, the discipleship process takes hold immediately. As with Andrew and Simon Peter, Philip finds his friend Nathanael and tells him they have found the Messiah. When Nathanael expresses skepticism, what does Philip say to him? The very same words Jesus had spoken to the first two disciples the day before. ‘Come and see.’

And the focus turns again to Jesus. When Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him he said ‘This is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.’ Still skeptical, Nathanael asks how Jesus could know this about him. Jesus’ answer is both simple and obscure. ‘I saw you under the fig tree before Philip came to you.’ Nathanael’s response is instant and surprising. The skeptical Nathanael confesses Jesus not only as Messiah but also as ‘the Son of God’ (v. 49). While sitting under the fig tree might mean little to us, it clearly meant a great deal to Nathanael. We can imagine perhaps that he had been having a heart to heart conversation with God under the fig tree. Perhaps he had asked God when the Messiah was coming, perhaps he had asked if he might see the Messiah. Something along these lines would make sense given Nathanael’s response.

And we should not underestimate the importance of ‘being seen’ by Jesus in bringing Nathanael to this confession.  When Jesus said he had seen Nathanael, he meant that he had really seen him. He knew his heart and his concerns.

A few years ago a major film was released called Avatar. The native inhabitants of the planet Pandora, in the film, had an endearing way of expressing emotion, love, forgiveness. When a couple was falling in love, they would say to each other ‘I see you.’ When two people had been fighting, reconciliation occurred when the offended party said, ‘I see you’. What they meant by ‘I see you’ went far deeper than mere physical vision. It was an acknowledgement of another’s worth or value, or their feelings for them, of seeing deep inside them, of seeing who they really were.

When Jesus says to Nathanael that he saw him, I think this is the sense in which these words are meant to be taken. It is certainly how Nathanael took Jesus’ words.

Seventeen times in this passage some form of the word ‘seeing’ occurs. Often it is John or one of the early disciples seeing Jesus. Then it is John twice calling upon his hearers to see Jesus. And, of course, the two-fold repetition of the invitation to come and see Jesus. But perhaps the most striking use of the image of seeing is that Jesus sees us – just like he saw Nathanael. Because Jesus takes the initiative, because he sees us – we can also truly see Jesus. And more than this, Jesus tells Nathanael, ‘You will see greater things that these. … You will see heave opened. You will see the Son of Man.’ That is, Nathanael would see Jesus as he really is, in all his glory. Nathanael, and all who are called to come and see Jesus, will see the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

So, what are we looking for? Perhaps we really are not certain what it is we are looking for. But Jesus knows. And he calls us to come and see. He calls us to open our eyes and behold the one who takes away all the brokenness of the world. More than that, Jesus says to us, ‘I see you.’  He sees us as we really are, all our needs and worries. And he loves us and calls us to himself.

So why are you here today? What are you really looking for?

Come and see.

Come and see Jesus.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.