Come and see. Sometimes we just need to see people walking the talk of love and justice, of community and care, to give us the courage, and the means, to do it ourselves. We can be the ones who say, “Come and see.” You have great music, sure, but show me: how is the Gospel made real here? It may not be dramatic, but please let it be authentic. So that others can come and see ways of following Jesus, and then join you in learning and loving and serving. Here is a poem by my friend Laura Martin of Rock Spring United Church of Christ in Arlington, Virginia to remind us what to look for.
Wild angels are my
Favorite kind.
They have no idea where
They left their haloes,
And they let their robes
Run through fresh mud.
They don’t stand in formation
And sing with a choir.
Instead they show up and
Change tires
On highways,
Sit down and have a beer
And listen,
Trespass in the park
To sit on the swings
Late at night.
They come to hospital rooms
To tell bad jokes,
To airports to carry
Heavy bags,
To food pantries
When it’s the end of the month
And the money has run out.
They believe in
Revelation unfolding,
In the sacred scripture
We write between
Each other.
****
January 19, 2020
Community Church Congregational UCC, Corona del Mar
Come and See
John 1:18-23, 35-43. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said,
“I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,
‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’”
as the prophet Isaiah said.
The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).
The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.”
Today we read John’s story of Jesus beginning his ministry by gathering his disciples. I treasure these stories because Iam a disciple. Jesus gathered me and at some point I signed on: I agreed to follow him. I’m pretty sure some of you are also disciples. You don’t need ordination or fancy clothes to be a follower of Jesus. You don’t even need to believe a Trinitarian formula or a creed to be a follower of Jesus. It helps to show up on a regular basis for your relationship with Jesus—you could call that prayer. Worship, bible study, meditation, self-examination, a church community, these also help us figure out on an ongoing basis what following Jesus looks like in our lives. What does following Jesus look like in your life? I’d love to hear. And there are times when we’re just not sure.
John the Baptist had it figured out. He was “The voice crying out in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.” He had attention getting clothes and a dramatic ritual. John knew who Jesus was the minute he saw him, he knew who he was in relation to Jesus, and he knew how to draw people to Jesus. John is probably the exception to the rule. Jesus’ own disciples didn’t understand who he was. They often weren’t sure what they were supposed to be doing either, or else they got corrected by Jesus when they thought they did know. So we can take comfort that they are in the same boat many of us are in. These disciples weren’t stupid– what Jesus invites us to is mind-bending. In John’s gospel it gets expressed like this: No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” And he talks of light and darkness, and being in the Father and the Father in him, and he in us… and other beautiful, but abstract, metaphysical metaphors that don’t make clear the practical implementation.
We could just refer back to the Beatitudes in the Gospel of Matthew, except they are mind bending in their own way. So Jesus sets theory aside and gets down to basics. Several times as he’s meeting potential recruits, they are invited to “come and see.” Come and see. Jesus will show us what we need to know. We don’t have to have it all figured out. We’ll learn. Maybe we’ll unlearn a few things. And then we’ll have the understanding, and the courage, to follow him in the next leg of our journey.
Come and see. Experience. Learn. Our invitation from God is not always a call to action or a moral imperative, but sometimes an adventures, an exploration. And on the journey, we may learn and grow into the disciples God needs to serve in a particular way.
Come and see. This could be a call simply to pay attention to the details of our lives. We have our priorities, but what has God placed in our path that we’re ignoring? What is in front of our noses that might need our attention? Buddhists call this practicing mindfulness. Christians can do it too. Writing a daily gratitude list is another way to see what is right in front of us. Does anyone here do that?
In addition to a gratitude list, I like to take walks in my native garden. It has to be a very slow walk because it’s a very small garden. But each day, especially in this season new details emerge. Lately: mushrooms! New sprouts after the rains. Moss is growing on the slope. The tiny heart pendants of Manzanita flowers. The scent of sage. The succulents are plump now and need splitting. Ripe lemons. Weeds aplenty, but some of them might be native flowers. Right now, I can’t see the difference. Maybe in a week, I’ll be able to come and see which are weeds and which are not.
There is a barrier to seeing. We think we already know what we’ll see. We’ve seen it all before. It takes humility, and effort, to really see what’s there, instead of what was assume is there. Sometimes seeing even requires a transformation. A “new pair of glasses” is how a classic old-timer in Alcoholics Anonymous described it. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, an alcoholic can discover a new way of being that respects self and others. How I wish that a loved one would come and see the healing that AA has to offer. She is never quite able to see that she can’t control her drinking, that a little “liquid comfort” always ramps up to a near fatal dose. We all have our blind spots, but hers is killing her. Still I pray for a miracle: that she will be willing to come and see in a new way.
Come and see. Bear witness to someone else’s life. On this Martin Luther King weekend, we might pause to consider how the world is experienced by people of color, and what it’s like to be assumed guilty until proven innocent, if you live that long. Lest you think that doesn’t happen around here, it happened to a twenty year old in my own neighborhood, UCI faculty housing. UCI police would not believe him when he said he was in his own home, would not let him show ID, and demanded he come outside with his hands up. When he did, five loaded guns were pointed at him. Need I say he was black? Come and see that we are far from the justice that God has invited us to create right here in Orange County.
No matter our brokenness, no matter our confusion, God will meet us where we are. When I was here as an intern, around the turn of the century, I had a pretty clear call to serve as a pastor. Lately my call has gotten a little fuzzy. It tends to do that between churches, but it really feels like something’s shifting this time. I’m not sure what. I’ll tell you when I figure it out. In the meantime, what do I do? Come and see. I’ve been exploring practical ways to learn about the justice we say God cares about.
Immigrants in detention. In December I drove up to the Adelanto detention center in the high desert, to pick up a man who was released on bail, and deliver him to his family in Costa Mesa. He had spent about a year in detention. Detention is a nice word for jail for people who haven’t committed a crime. Immigration is a not crime, so you also are not entitled to any legal representation. Without legal representation, he was not even able to have a bail hearing for almost a year. This young man immigrated with his mom from Mexico when he was seven years old. He lived in Costa Mesa and went through the Newport Mesa school system. His teenage sister was suicidal over his imprisonment. He’s twenty-one years old. And all I could think of is, that could have been my son. Sometimes seeing breaks your heart. And that’s OK. How many times do we read in the gospels evidence of Jesus’ heart breaking?
Come and see. Another thing I wanted to learn about was climate change. I’ve been doing my homework. For the longest time all I could figure out to do was read and cry, read and cry. It really felt rather ridiculous. But I couldn’t look away; I had to bear witness. Finally after over a year of tears, I have found my climate ministry. I discovered that when I had the courage to share my fears and tears, other people started opening up, breaking the taboo, and sharing their fear and grief. So I am hosting my first “grief, gratitude and courage climate circle” next month.
Come and see. That might require patience. I like to have structure, to do list, and a plan. I’m not comfortable just sitting with not knowing. Waiting to see who calls, what comes together, what surprises God has in store for me. Come and see. It might also require courage, to try something new. To cold call somebody who I think has something to teach me, and invite them to coffee. Or to sign me and the hubby up for a rustic dance weekend on Catalina. (That one worked out, and now we have two more weekends planned.)
People new to the walk with Jesus may need to come and see the life-giving basics of our faith: that God is not far away, but as close as our own hearts. That God does not dictate, control, punish, but God invites, teaches, befriends, loves, and forgives. That God’s love is the strongest force in the universe, stronger than death, and that following Jesus means receiving that love and passing it on, not only to those in our circle, but to people we might otherwise ignore or dismiss. But how is someone going to see God in action? John says: No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known. And Jesus is not here in the flesh anymore, so it might have to be us, through whom people can see the presence and power and love of God. We are not capable of this alone, but we are not alone.
Come and see. Sometimes we just need to see people walking the talk of love and justice, of community and care, to give us the courage, and the means, to do it ourselves. We can be the ones who say, “Come and see.” You have great music, sure, but show me: how is the Gospel made real here? It may not be dramatic, but please let it be authentic. So that others can come and see ways of following Jesus, and then join you in learning and loving and serving. Here is a poem by my friend Laura Martin of Rock Spring United Church of Christ in Arlington, Virginia to remind us what to look for.
Wild angels are my
Favorite kind.
They have no idea where
They left their haloes,
And they let their robes
Run through fresh mud.
They don’t stand in formation
And sing with a choir.
Instead they show up and
Change tires
On highways,
Sit down and have a beer
And listen,
Trespass in the park
To sit on the swings
Late at night.
They come to hospital rooms
To tell bad jokes,
To airports to carry
Heavy bags,
To food pantries
When it’s the end of the month
And the money has run out.
They believe in
Revelation unfolding,
In the sacred scripture
We write between
Each other.
Come and see the love and justice of God. Come and be the love and justice of God. Amen.
