Sunday, June 3, 2012

June 3, 2012 - Trinity B


In the name of God- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            Domine ivimus. Those words are a fairly recent discovery at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. This church is built over the places where Jesus was crucified and rose again on Easter morning. Archeologists were exploring the foundations of the church via fiber optic cables and found some graffiti on a wall. Now, normally graffiti is not a welcome sight, but this one was, as it dates back to the early 4th century. There is a drawing of a boat, and below it the Latin words domine ivimus, meaning “Lord, we went.”
            We don’t know who left this graffiti, but likely they had come from a long way to do so. The picture of the boat makes us think they sailed there, and the Latin indicates that they came not from the local area, but from Europe. And they make such a simple statement, domine ivimus, as if to say “Lord, we made it! Here we are, O Lord!” These early pilgrims were traveling in a time when Christians were fed to lions for sport, when such a long journey meant taking months away from home and work, when traveling that distance was full of dangers and challenges. But they went, and they made it.
            When I read our passage from Isaiah earlier this week, reading the question posed by God- “whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” and the corresponding response “here I am; send me,” I immediately thought of that holy graffiti. Two great proclamations of faith “Lord, here we are” and “here I am”- but I began to wonder “where is here?”
            This passage from Isaiah is a very well known one, often being read at ordinations. We read it today because today is Trinity Sunday and this is one of the Biblical passages that points to the idea of the Trinity, though it certainly doesn’t said it plainly. The song of the seraphim should also seem familiar, as it is the sanctus that we sing in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer. God has a job that needs to be done, and God needs a messenger, a doer for this task. St. Augustine once said that “without God, we cannot; without us, God will not” and so it is. God has a vision, a plan, a hope for redeeming Israel and all the world. But God will not do it alone, as God empowers the creatures to take a part in constantly re-creating the Creation.
            Today, that same question still beckons from on high- “whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Who will feed the hungry? Who will love the unlovable? Who will stand up for the poor and the oppressed? Who will work for justice and peace? Who will tear down the walls that separate us? Who will choose the good of others over the good of themselves? Who will take up their cross and follow Christ? Who will teach Sunday School? Who will visit those in the hospital? Who will go and preach the Gospel? Who will build the Kingdom of God?
            The justice and salvation for the world that God had in mind has not yet come to its fullest realization on earth as it is in heaven. The world and God needs people to go. But before we get going, before we can say “here I am,” we must discern where exactly we are. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Christianity is at a crucible moment. Christianity is no longer the assumption, as 25% of young adults choose “none” when asked for their religious affiliation. We’ve seen declines in all sorts of ways- Americans give less financially than they used to, we spend less time at church than we did in the past, we pray less, read the Bible less, and know less about those topics than our parents and grandparents did.
And what are reasons for this decline? Well, basically, they are the same as we see in Isaiah- excuses. Isaiah says that he’s unclean, and therefore unfit to be God’s messenger. Sorry God, really wish I could help out, but I just can’t. Not many of us use unclean lips as our excuse, but we still have our excuses: I don’t know enough to teach Sunday School, I’m too busy to come to forums, reading the Bible every day is just a lot of time, people will think I’m crazy if I talk about Jesus in public. But just as God addressed Isaiah’s excuses, God addressed ours as well.
Saying “here I am, send me” is one of the hardest statements to make because it means dedicated ourselves to something other than ourselves. Being sent involves taking risks, being uncomfortable, spending less time watching television and more time reading the Bible, spending less on vacations and Starbucks and more on charity. Being sent is not for the faint of heart. But as on any journey, we all know that doing it halfway doesn’t get you anywhere. If you want to go to Paris, halfway gets you to the middle of the ocean. You can only have the experience of saying “here I am” or “Lord, we made it” if you go all the way. Christianity is supposed to be a challenge, it is supposed to be counter-cultural, it is supposed to be hard. We wear crosses around our necks, and if that doesn’t tell us that saying “here I am, send me” is hard, then I don’t know what would. And so because it can be such a challenge, more and more people are finding themselves reluctant to take on the challenge. If we read the signs of the times, signs such as less involvement, less giving, less commitment, it seems like we have signs of despair.
But looking at our gospel reading and Nicodemus, we see that signs are not all they’re cracked up to be. Nicodemus is such a wonderful character, and a great stand-in for many of us. Nicodemus was part of the establishment- he was an upstanding member of the Jewish community, he was a respected leader, he was well liked, he was wealthy and educated. And he understood what following Jesus would mean. Nicodemus knew that discipleship under Jesus would be renouncing his wealth and comfort, his power and prestige. As a member of the Jewish power structure, he knew that Jesus was bound to end up in trouble with the law and knew that there was a bounty on Jesus’ head. But he was still intrigued by Jesus. Nicodemus yearned for the sort of stuff that Jesus spoke about- the love, justice, and peace of the Kingdom of God. But he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to commit.
Perhaps Nicodemus should be considered the patron saint for the seeker and the uncertain. So Nicodemus comes to visit and question Jesus at night. He probably snuck out of his house so that no one would notice his absence, he took some alleys instead of main roads to get to Jesus, probably had his cloak pulled up around his head so that no one would recognize him. Nicodemus comes to Jesus and asks him about the signs. Perhaps he figures that if Jesus can explain the signs or even do a few more, then he could take the plunge and follow Jesus- he just needs to see a little more evidence, needs just a little more convincing.
But Jesus wants nothing to do with these signs and instead offers a riddle about being born from above. Jesus introduces a lot of dichotomies and comparisons in his response: flesh vs. spirit; born from above vs. born from below: light vs. dark; hearing vs. understanding; condemnation vs. salvation. Jesus makes it clear that to follow him, his followers must make a choice about where “here” is for them. With all of these options, a choice has to be made. Will you focus on what is above you, or what is around you? Will you hear, or will you understand? Does Jesus condemn, or does Jesus save? To choose one thing, is to choose not to do the other. As much as we want to have it both ways, we can’t. You can’t be a disciple and an individualist. You can’t hoard up treasure and follow Jesus. You can’t turn a blind eye to those in need and love Jesus. You can’t come to Jesus by hiding at night and ignore him during the daylight. Jesus invites Nicodemus to make a choice that night.
But Nicodemus doesn’t understand what’s going on, as he’s still trying to figure Jesus out, instead of simply living in Jesus. He wants to say “here I am, send me,” but wants to know first where he will be sent. Nicodemus gets tripped up. When Jesus says that you have to be “born from above” it could also be understood as being “born again.” Nicodemus makes the same mistake that millions of Evangelicals make when they put so much emphasis on being born again.  We don’t need to be born again, once was enough; but in our lifestyle, we have a choice: either we are born from above and seek ye first the Kingdom of God, or we are born of this world and seek the idols of comfort, certainty, wealth, and self.
Being born from above is the key, orientating ourselves towards God is the task of discipleship. Just as Eucharist without meaning from above is just bread and wine, and Baptism that is not from above is just a bath, life without being born from above is simply going through the motions each day. Just like the sacraments of the Church, the meaning for our lives comes from above. If we trust that there is a loving Creator, a redeeming Lord, a giving Spirit, our truest meaning is only found when we locate ourselves as being “here” in God. St. Augustine said “our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they find rest in thee.”
Nicodemus doesn’t find what he was looking for, he couldn’t see how being born again, or from above, was something he could do, so he walks home. He wanted a sign to show him the way, but if could be born from above, he himself would be the sign. Later in John, we’ll run into Nicodemus again, but for now, he’s only watches Jesus from the sidelines and isn’t ready to get into the game. What prevents Nicodemus from going all-in? I don’t know, I wasn’t there, I didn’t have a chance to interview Nicodemus while I was writing this sermon. But it’s a question we should all ask ourselves. What keeps us from being the most devote disciples of Jesus as possible? And this isn’t me speaking on high to you all either, none of us have it all figured out. When I love, I worry about being hurt. When I give money away, I worry about unexpected expenses coming up. When I wear my collar out in public, I risk being labeled and judged as something I’m not. When I counsel people in need, I worry about not being helpful. When I decide to follow Jesus and go against cultural norms, I fear the repercussions. When I speak about dedication and following Jesus, I worry that I’ll scare people away with too much talk to commitment. And Lord knows, I make my share of mistakes- whether it’s a short temper or a selfish attitude, I don’t think I’m alone in sin.
There are thousands of reasons to be like Nicodemus, to stay a seeker, to avoid the risk of going all-in with discipleship, but there is one really good reason to take the plunge, to say “Lord, send me.” John 3:16- “for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Let’s rescue that verse from the billboards, from those who want to use that verse to exclude instead of welcome, and more importantly, let’s not interrupt Jesus in the middle of a thought. John 3:17 is just as important- “indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
In these two verses, Jesus speaks about the rationale for being born from above and living for the Kingdom which is above: we are loved and we are saved. In a recent interview, Desmond Tutu was asked about freedom after Apartheid ended in South Africa and he said that being freed from something is actually quite easy by comparison, but the harder task is being freed for something. It was one thing to freed from legal discrimination and prejudice, but it something else entirely to be freed for service and reconciliation. It was easy for Isaiah to be cleansed from his sins, but it was hard to be cleansed for being sent. This distinction between “from” and “for” is a very helpful one in looking at these verses.
Through Jesus we see God’s love and are saved. So what? Big deal. If salvation is some sort of divine action on the cosmic level that lifts some sort of roadblock into heaven, then what difference does it make? Being loved, saved, or freed from something has very little meaning, just like living from below instead of above. If I love my wife, what difference does that make to her or to me? Not much. But what if I love her for a purpose? What if I love her for the sake of making her happy, of being her companion through the ups and downs of life, of supporting her? That is something life changing. And the same can be said of God.
If there is some deity in the sky that loves us, great. But if the Almighty loves us for the purpose of making us whole, of giving us meaning, of letting us partner with God in Creation, then that matters. And the same is true of salvation. We are all sinners, yes. And forgiveness is a great thing, don’t get me wrong, but if our salvation is about life after death, then what’s the point of all this? Why bother with all this suffering, with the challenges of life? But what if we are saved not from something, but for something? What if we are saved so that we can do accomplish something? What if we are saved from wallowing in our sins, from fear of death or failure so that we can attend to the needy or sacrifice our self interests for the greater good? What if we are saved from being unlovable so that we can go out and love with all of our being? That, my brothers and sisters, is something to be excited about. That understanding of John 3:16 is something to put on a billboard or make posters about.
To live into the purpose of our love and salvation is a daunting and holy task, but it is the task to which we are called. Our world needs more people to do get into their boats and say domine ivimus, “Lord we are here”, or “send me.” To do so is to be bold and courageous. Our hearts yearn to find their rest in God, to fully embrace our mission. We are loved for a purpose, saved for a reason: building the Kingdom of God. There is much work to be done, the “help wanted” ad has been posted, now is our time to answer “here we are Lord, send us.”