The Rev. Neale L. Miller

Sermon for May 20, 2007

Texts: Psalm 67/John 14:18-29

Title: “Going and Coming”

              It wasn’t that Jesus was particularly ambiguous, it just so happened that the content of his message was not to be easily grasped.  Content, of course, is never easily grasped when it falls outside the bounds of our experience. What Jesus was talking about was way out of bounds insofar as the disciples were concerned. 

              The fact that Jesus was preparing to leave his disciples was clear.  Crystal clear. Their disappointment, even dismay at the news, is reflected in Jesus’ efforts to console them:  “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.”

              “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places…I go and prepare a place for you.  What could this “I go and prepare a place for you” mean”?  Thomas, one of the disciples, who would later distinguish himself as “doubting Thomas,” [Thomas] being of the more skeptical persuasion wanted clarification.  “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?  Give us some help here.”

              If Thomas was looking for map coordinates, he was disappointed.  Instead of a point on the map we hear Jesus make what is arguably one of the best known and most often quoted declarations in the gospels, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Way? But what way? Truth? What truth?  Life? What life?  Jesus gave the twelve a lot to think about.

            You think you know someone well, and then he springs something unexpected on you.  The disciples had lived with Jesus through many adventures, witnessed him do many extraordinary things, but the Lord’s focus in these last days with his disciples was on territory never before traversed.  No, not the familiar surroundings of the Galilean countryside, the Lord was pointing them to a domain unmapped, “My Father’s house” with Jesus the way to that house.

             Humble men that they were, unexposed to abstract thought, the disciples struggled with the whole, way, truth, and life thing.  What mattered to them was that Jesus was making a trip, and it was going to be unaccompanied.

Jesus was going away, but he was quick to reassure them.  Remember what that reassurance was? “I will not leave you orphaned.”  The word “orphaned” in the Greek is also translated “desolate,” or “comfortless.”

            I am going, but “I will not leave you orphaned.” The statement, curiously enough, is completed by the following, “I am coming to you.” “I will not leave you orphaned, I am coming to you.” (Other versions have “I shall come to you.”)

            Not going or coming. But going AND coming. How confusing is that? Confusing it may be, yet at the same time one of the most fundamental and far-reaching claims our Christian faith prompts us to make. Fundamental and far-reaching because the risen Christ who left the earth to be with the Father, is the same Christ who is continually coming to us through the Advocate, or Holy Spirit, God sends us in Christ’s name.   

              The twelve disciples had yet to experience either the going or the coming part, and, as one might expect, had a lot of questions about how all those logistics would work out.  Jesus attempted to address those questions while comforting his disciples with the assurance, “In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.”  It would take a matter of days, but what the Lord meant would eventually become clear. Yes, going and coming.

               He goes, but, importantly, he also comes. “No, [Jesus declared] I will not leave you orphaned.” 

             Orphaned can mean many things.  To the disciples, dreading the day that Jesus would leave them, orphaned meant abandoned.  For others orphaned means uncared for, or unloved.  Orphaned can mean estranged and isolated.  Orphaned can mean excluded.

                   This experience of being orphaned is widespread in our culture.  Divorce rates remain high, fifty percent of marriages ending in divorce.  Indebtedness is at all time highs.  Teen pregnancies, though not at all time highs, remain substantial.  Children are neglected. Depression is widespread.  Orphaned is to be set adrift without a paddle, without a map to lead us back home. 

                 Set adrift, life moves on and many of us can’t get our bearings or keep up.  The disciples were orphaned, or so they thought.  “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?”  What purpose, what meaning, did life have without the Lord?  

                Not just orphans, but each one of us, deal with questions of purpose and meaning. In addressing those questions Jesus said, “I am going to be with the Father, but I will come again.” 

                 The going to the father is authenticated by scripture, the books of Acts describing Jesus’ ascension into heaven. We, with the disciples and believers of every time and place, wait for Christ to come again. We do not know the hour.

                The disciples sought clarity on when the Lord would return, but instead got the assurance that they would not be left alone, that they would not be orphaned.  Our faith that Christ is good to his word is no guarantee that we won’t suffer the pain of abandonment and isolation. The consequences of divorce, neglect, depression and bad judgment will still be experienced, but Christ sends an advocate, the Holy Spirit, to brace us in our time of need.

What Christ sends is something this world so desperately needs. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”  Peace is what Christ gives to the world in the interim period between his going and coming.

                Peace gets our vote. Peace was the legacy that Christ left us. But what is it? How do we experience it?  You will agree that the questions are profound. Do we really have a clue as to what Christ is talking about?  Perhaps the only way we can really answer that question is by trying to grasp what peace meant in the life of Christ himself.

                 Peace by Christ’s definition, as he himself declared, was not the same as what the world meant by peace.  Peace by the world’s definition could not be attained by the methods Christ chose.  Jesus’ words and deeds constantly got him into trouble.  He was considered by some to be a renegade rabble rouser.  Others dismissed him as a crank.

                Jesus felt constant pressure from those who wanted to bring him down, while he maintained deep commitment to the flock that looked to him for guidance.  Yet amid the competing pressures of those who plotted his downfall and those who came to him in need, Jesus remained at peace.   

                Peace in the world is buying into what the world values.  Jesus taught and lived values that contradicted the reigning values of his day, of our day.  The first shall be last, and the last first.  Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.  If anyone wishes to take your coat, give him your cloak as well. 

               By the world’s reckoning there is nothing at all to be gained by going last, by loving enemies, or giving up our property rights. But it happens that those are the very things that Jesus taught, and two thousand years after they were taught people like us continue to give them a hearing, even if we are unprepared to practice what he taught.

              Peace in the world is the opposite of vulnerability.  But can you  have Christ’s peace without being vulnerable as he was?  “My peace I give you,” Jesus said.   

              Peace on Jesus’ terms is risky; it is not obtainable through amassing wealth, power, and influence.  Peace on Jesus’ terms is accepting on faith that what he taught and the way he lived are capable of yielding something greater than can be obtained by following the course the world has set. But what is that greater?

             That, friends, is the perennial question that people like us have asked. The gospels make clear that even Jesus’ disciples were uncertain that what Jesus taught, and the way he challenged them to live, set them in the direction they wanted to go. No protest of theirs against the ways of the world has been recorded. Jesus, however, forced them to choose.  “My peace I leave you. Do you want it?”

                 Jesus’ peace is there for the taking.  Do we want it?  If only the peace of Christ could be communicated with a handshake, and a “peace be with you” that we have ritualized in our worship service. 

                 The peace that Christ offers sent, Saul, later to be named Paul, on an odyssey that carried him thousands of miles, an odyssey that saw him beaten, jailed, and eventually executed. The peace that Christ offers so overtook the life of a little Polish nun, that the nun, who became known to the world as mother Theresa, left the comfortable life of the convent behind her to bring aid and comfort to the suffering of India.  Preferring the peace Christ offered to the successful and comfortable life he enjoyed as a respected Montgomery, MS preacher, Martin Luther King Jr. was jailed, beaten, and eventually killed for insisting that African Americans be accorded the same rights and opportunities that white people enjoyed.

                To that list of three the names of thousands of other persons could be added, people who sacrificed financial comfort, community approval, and even the support of friends and families to stand with Christ in the cause of justice, freedom, and equality. They wanted peace.

                  Peace, but not as the world gives. The peace that Jesus talks about has nothing to do with financial security, a comfortable retirement, or freedom from anxiety. The peace that Jesus talks about is the peace he himself experienced in his own life through faithfulness to God, and serving others.

                  Peace in the world is in large part acceptance of the way things are, it is deferring to those who wield the power, socially, politically, and culturally. The peace that Christ offers is by contrast a willingness to speak truth to power. It is a willingness to align ourselves with those Jesus chose to align with, and they were not the political, social, and cultural elite, but the people on the margin.

                 When we are talking about the peace Jesus brings we are talking about salvation, something not liable to show up on any scorecard the world keeps.  What we are talking about with the peace Jesus brings is nothing less than union with God, our wills in harmony with God’s will.

                   So what is that harmony, that peace, worth to you?  How do you place a value on it?  The peace of Christ is not for everyone, only for those willing to accept the possibility that what Christ ultimately offers us in this life and the life to come is more valuable than that which is obtainable by the methods the world prefers.  Peace, it’s there the taking.  Do we want it?  Do we take Christ seriously enough to do what it takes to enjoy it?  We take him seriously enough to be here, and that, friends, is a positive first step.  

PRAYER

                   O Christ, head of the church, we assemble in the house you built to offer our prayers and praise. Accept, we pray, this offering of ourselves in worship as our demonstration to the community and world that you are the very son of God, eternally reigning over all that God created. May hearts be open to your presence wherever the gospel is preached this day, but especially here among these friends who have gathered.  Ease the minds of those who experience stress this day that their spirits may be renewed, and to the anxious grant release.

                  Peace, not as the world gives, is the offer.  Into the calm of your presence, into the power of your forgiveness, and into truth of your proclamation we would enter, but the values and ambitions the world upholds continually vie for our attention.  You offer a peace passing understanding, a peace derived, not from accumulating more of the world’s goods, but a peace won as we live our lives after the manner in which you lived. But we struggle with even modest efforts to live with your grace. We would like to see positive change in the world, but we won’t make efforts to make positive changes in ourselves. Forgive us for resigning ourselves to what is, without considering options that would promote new possibilities.

                 Lord, we continue to pray for the restoration of our lives amid a city slow to restore itself.  The burden of waiting for our community to heal and repopulate continues to weigh heavily on the citizens of this neighborhood, while those citizens of the city who are not part of the neighborhood contend with frustrations in other forms. O God, we are impatient for change, and impatient with those we feel are impeding it.  In your grace grant us wisdom, but also patience, for the living of these days.     

                   Merciful God, brace those who live in harms way today.  We pray for our armed forces exposed to danger in Iraq and Afghanistan.  We pray for United Nations peacekeepers posted throughout the world.  We pray for those whom, at the risk of their lives, maintain humanitarian missions in lands where crushing poverty and destitution blight the lives of the marginalized.             

                   We pray for those missionaries who have committed their lives to embodying the gospel in distant lands. We lift up all the faithful who make common cause with the oppressed and the destitute.

                     As the school year ends we pray that you will be with students and teachers as they assume summer commitments. May the summer recess provide a time for relaxation and reflection, a time to broaden experience through new challenges.

Even as a war is being waged, and disputes continue unresolved, we pray that those who lead this nation may find common cause in addressing matters directly impacting the citizens of this land. We pray, O God, that issues of health care, mortgage lending practices, consumer fraud, and government waste may be addressed. We pray that just immigration laws be written and implemented. Even as the specter of global warming becomes more pronounced, we pray that energy conservation receive priority attention.

                    Attend, O God, those who are struggling with personal faith, who have yet to establish a religious identity. May your spirit sustain all those who are searching for answers, and inspire the resigned and discouraged who have given up the search to begin again.

                   O Christ, who offers peace the world cannot give, prepare our hearts to receive that gift, even as we pray the prayer you taught us.