John 12:44-50
Jesus summed it all up: “Whoever believes in me, believes not just in me but in the One who sent me. Whoever looks at me is looking, in fact, at the One who sent me. I am Light that has come into the world so that all who believe in me won’t have to stay any longer in the dark.
“If anyone hears what I am saying and doesn’t take it seriously, I don’t reject them. I didn’t come to reject the world; I came to save the world. But you need to know that whoever puts me off, refusing to take in what I’m saying, is willfully choosing rejection. The Word, the Word-made-flesh that I have spoken and that I am, that Word and no other is the last word. I’m not making any of this up on my own. The One who sent me gave me orders, told me what to say and how to say it. And I know exactly what this command produces: real and eternal life. That’s all I have to say. What my Father told me, I tell you.”
Last week I talked mostly about some of the things that the writer of John does differently from the other gospel writers – primarily that John is less concerned with historical fact than spiritual truth. This gospel account is less about a long string of “happenings” – healings, exorcisms, and such - and more about how each recited event goes about directing our paths and expanding our spiritual growth into the beings we were created to be.
Although every one of the gospels exists to show that Jesus is/was the Christ, John’s gospel is often considered the most overtly Christological of the four. Christology is the study of the Christ-hood of Jesus. This is one of those theological terms which is very slippery because it all too often means whatever it means to the one speaking. Generally speaking, in extremely broad terms, a high Christology is one which holds that Jesus is God - the second person of the Trinity - who took on human form and lived among us for awhile. A low Christology is one which sees Jesus as a man – one called by God into a very special service role – one who took on aspects of divinity as he grew and matured in his ministry. Most of us, if we are honest, bounce around back and forth within these parameters.
The synoptics generally start from a lower Christological point of view. Only at the end of Jesus’ life, as the disciples’ understanding grows, do they venture into a higher Christology. John, starts out right at the top with the prologue, which we looked at our first day in John –
Although every one of the gospels exists to show that Jesus is/was the Christ, John’s gospel is often considered the most overtly Christological of the four. Christology is the study of the Christ-hood of Jesus. This is one of those theological terms which is very slippery because it all too often means whatever it means to the one speaking. Generally speaking, in extremely broad terms, a high Christology is one which holds that Jesus is God - the second person of the Trinity - who took on human form and lived among us for awhile. A low Christology is one which sees Jesus as a man – one called by God into a very special service role – one who took on aspects of divinity as he grew and matured in his ministry. Most of us, if we are honest, bounce around back and forth within these parameters.
The synoptics generally start from a lower Christological point of view. Only at the end of Jesus’ life, as the disciples’ understanding grows, do they venture into a higher Christology. John, starts out right at the top with the prologue, which we looked at our first day in John –
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God.
In all four of the gospels John the Baptist tells his followers that one is coming who is more powerful than he, but only in the Gospel of John does the writer expand this by saying that the one to come pre-existed the Baptist - this one who was since the beginning.
In this gospel, Jesus is seen as God’s divinity enfleshed, not as a human man raised to messiah-status. We’ve talked before about how confusing the term messiah can be and that it has held so many different layers of meaning throughout Old Testament history. When theologians equate the Hebrew Messiah with the Greek Christos they create a new layer of confusion because the two words are not entirely the same. Both refer to one who is anointed but that just adds to the muddle because anointing is used for so very many purposes, in both of these cultures - some higher, some lower.
And then we read John and John throws in the concept of Logos, or the Word – that Greek ordering principle that organizes all that is into Being and Non-Being. And then, to go even further, Logos is associated with Sophia, or Wisdom – carrying us back to the wisdom traditions and writings of the Old Testament and linking Wisdom with the Holy Spirit, who is often conflated with Sophia. That’s a whole other sermon - actually it's a series of sermons and we simply don't have time here right now.
epending then on what you have read, what you have been taught, what you choose to believe – Jesus is some -- or all – or even none – of these things. The simple truth is that Jesus sometimes appears to us in each of these guises, and like Godself, is complicated far beyond our human comprehension.
I said last week that this week we would look into Jesus’ ultimate sermon at the Last Supper but we are running out of time and it will have to be a quick run-by. There is too much to say in this short time. One of the key differences in John’s story of the Last Supper is that Jesus never says words of institution – this is my body, this is my blood. In fact, the meal itself plays no role here except as the setting for all that is spoken. The only time bread is even mentioned is when Jesus break a bit of bread off and gives it to Judas with the announcement that the one to whom I give this is the one who will betray me.
After Judas’ departure from the table, Jesus tries to tell those remaining what is coming. He predicts Peter’s betrayal, in spite of Peter’s vehement denials. He promises that where he is going, the disciples will go too, and promises to send them the Holy Spirit in his place - to not leave them orphaned when he is gone.
He explains that he himself is the vine and we grow outward from him only if we remain rooted in him, and he leaves us the command to love one another as the Father loves him and he loves us. He tries to tell the disciples that soon they will see him no longer, and there will be sorrow for a time but that it will eventually turn to joy.
And then he prays a lengthy prayer, putting his followers into God’s care and asking his Father to protect them when he is no longer here with them to protect them himself. He reminds the disciples that nothing he has done or said originates from him. He emphasizes that everything he has taught them is what the One who sent him told him to say. He, like the prophets of old, has not spoken for himself but simply passed on what God was saying.
Following all this he them leads them out into a nearby garden where he is arrested, then taken to be tried, and the next day, executed. John’s gospel has one of the fullest post-Easter stories of any of the gospels. It’s words are very familiar to us because it is most often the designated reading for Easter morning. First the risen Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene and then the disciples, then the disciples again - this time with Thomas, the skeptic. A few days later he appears again to several of the disciples who are out trying to fish through their grief, commanding Peter three times to “feed my sheep.”
There is so much richness to be found in John that we could spend several more weeks here. I would love to spend that time because somehow, to me at least, the Jesus of John’s gospel seems more “real,” more someone I want to be like, than the Jesus of the other gospels. Because of the richness of John’s symbolic, archetypal language this Jesus touches my heart more deeply.
This is the Jesus who washed the feet of his disciples and told them the servant must always be ready to serve. This is the Jesus who wept at the death of a friend and the suffering of the dead man’s sisters. This is the Jesus of the seashore, waiting with a fire and with breakfast when the numb and grieving disciples came in from a fruitless night of fishing.
This is the Jesus who warned Peter that he would betray him and then freely and lovingly forgive him after the fact – not only forgave him but gave him the care of his beloved sheep, with those three-times-repeated directions to “feed them.”
As I said, we could spend weeks yet here, but Luke is waiting – the fourth and last of the canonical gospels to be put into writing – and there’s a lot of richness there, too. This is supposed to be a Summer Series and summer is winding down and soon it will be time to return to the regular lectionary calendar.
So - we will start our look into Luke next Sunday.
In this gospel, Jesus is seen as God’s divinity enfleshed, not as a human man raised to messiah-status. We’ve talked before about how confusing the term messiah can be and that it has held so many different layers of meaning throughout Old Testament history. When theologians equate the Hebrew Messiah with the Greek Christos they create a new layer of confusion because the two words are not entirely the same. Both refer to one who is anointed but that just adds to the muddle because anointing is used for so very many purposes, in both of these cultures - some higher, some lower.
And then we read John and John throws in the concept of Logos, or the Word – that Greek ordering principle that organizes all that is into Being and Non-Being. And then, to go even further, Logos is associated with Sophia, or Wisdom – carrying us back to the wisdom traditions and writings of the Old Testament and linking Wisdom with the Holy Spirit, who is often conflated with Sophia. That’s a whole other sermon - actually it's a series of sermons and we simply don't have time here right now.
epending then on what you have read, what you have been taught, what you choose to believe – Jesus is some -- or all – or even none – of these things. The simple truth is that Jesus sometimes appears to us in each of these guises, and like Godself, is complicated far beyond our human comprehension.
I said last week that this week we would look into Jesus’ ultimate sermon at the Last Supper but we are running out of time and it will have to be a quick run-by. There is too much to say in this short time. One of the key differences in John’s story of the Last Supper is that Jesus never says words of institution – this is my body, this is my blood. In fact, the meal itself plays no role here except as the setting for all that is spoken. The only time bread is even mentioned is when Jesus break a bit of bread off and gives it to Judas with the announcement that the one to whom I give this is the one who will betray me.
After Judas’ departure from the table, Jesus tries to tell those remaining what is coming. He predicts Peter’s betrayal, in spite of Peter’s vehement denials. He promises that where he is going, the disciples will go too, and promises to send them the Holy Spirit in his place - to not leave them orphaned when he is gone.
He explains that he himself is the vine and we grow outward from him only if we remain rooted in him, and he leaves us the command to love one another as the Father loves him and he loves us. He tries to tell the disciples that soon they will see him no longer, and there will be sorrow for a time but that it will eventually turn to joy.
And then he prays a lengthy prayer, putting his followers into God’s care and asking his Father to protect them when he is no longer here with them to protect them himself. He reminds the disciples that nothing he has done or said originates from him. He emphasizes that everything he has taught them is what the One who sent him told him to say. He, like the prophets of old, has not spoken for himself but simply passed on what God was saying.
Following all this he them leads them out into a nearby garden where he is arrested, then taken to be tried, and the next day, executed. John’s gospel has one of the fullest post-Easter stories of any of the gospels. It’s words are very familiar to us because it is most often the designated reading for Easter morning. First the risen Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene and then the disciples, then the disciples again - this time with Thomas, the skeptic. A few days later he appears again to several of the disciples who are out trying to fish through their grief, commanding Peter three times to “feed my sheep.”
There is so much richness to be found in John that we could spend several more weeks here. I would love to spend that time because somehow, to me at least, the Jesus of John’s gospel seems more “real,” more someone I want to be like, than the Jesus of the other gospels. Because of the richness of John’s symbolic, archetypal language this Jesus touches my heart more deeply.
This is the Jesus who washed the feet of his disciples and told them the servant must always be ready to serve. This is the Jesus who wept at the death of a friend and the suffering of the dead man’s sisters. This is the Jesus of the seashore, waiting with a fire and with breakfast when the numb and grieving disciples came in from a fruitless night of fishing.
This is the Jesus who warned Peter that he would betray him and then freely and lovingly forgive him after the fact – not only forgave him but gave him the care of his beloved sheep, with those three-times-repeated directions to “feed them.”
As I said, we could spend weeks yet here, but Luke is waiting – the fourth and last of the canonical gospels to be put into writing – and there’s a lot of richness there, too. This is supposed to be a Summer Series and summer is winding down and soon it will be time to return to the regular lectionary calendar.
So - we will start our look into Luke next Sunday.
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