Sunday, January 15, 2017

January 15, 2017 - Epiphany 2A


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            What are you looking for? Seriously, why are you here? Why did you choose to get up on the weekend and come to church. A hidden perk of being a priest is that you get out of the task of getting two children ready for church and out the door on time – but I understand it’s not an easy thing to do. So why do those of you who have children do it? Instead of having a leisurely morning to read the paper at home or catch up on some tv shows or do some chores around the house, why do you come to church on Sunday? What is it that you’re looking for?

            It’s the question posed in today’s Gospel. Are you looking for peace in your soul? Healing in body or mind? Are you lonely and this is a place where you can find community? Are you searching for purpose and meaning in your life? Do you seek inspiration to go out into the world to do the work of ministry? What are you looking for exactly?
            We are in the liturgical season after the Epiphany. This season of the Church Year focuses on the various ways in which Jesus is made known to the world – we call these epiphanies. So all of the Scripture that will be read from now until Ash Wednesday will be revealing something about who Jesus is and what his ministry was all about. Last Sunday, we read about the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River. That was an epiphanic event because it reveals Jesus as God’s beloved Son, and also because it says something about our own Baptismal identity. The former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has said that “we cannot be understood apart from Jesus.” That is, when we learn about Jesus, we learn more about our true nature, as he is the epitome of humanity and the source of our identity as the liberated and loved people of God. So the season after Epiphany is an important one because we not only learn more about Jesus, but also ourselves.
            What, then, is the epiphany in today’s texts? The gospeller John invites us to “come and see.” Throughout John, this refrain of “come and see” is a central one. The disciples, and we’re included in that group, are told to “come and see.” What John the Baptist invites us to see is the “Lamb of God.” Isn’t that an odd invitation? Why did John call Jesus the “lamb of God”? The short answer is that we do not know. This is the only place in the entire Bible where that phrase, “Lamb of God,” is used. There are places, such as Isaiah and Revelation, that mention the lamb, but the phrase “Lamb of God” is never used elsewhere.
            And what is a lamb? Well, for one it’s one of the five animals used for sacrifices: bull, goat, turtledove, pigeon, and sheep. Of course, a lamb is a young sheep. Can you imagine if John had gone with pigeon? “Behold, the pigeon of God.” Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? It’s still a really odd title. Lion of God, Son of God, Image of God – I could understand any of those introductory titles, but “Lamb of God,” that one is harder to grasp.
            By calling Jesus the Lamb of God, John is essentially saying “Here’s a meek and vulnerable object of sacrifice, he’s a dead man walking, an inevitable loser.” Because that’s what lambs are – they’re young, vulnerable, and good for sacrificing. For John, if he had to choose a single epiphany of Jesus, a single way to view Jesus, it would be on the Cross. In John’s theology, the image of Jesus on the Cross reveals what we need to know about him. And this is where the admonition to “come and see” is so important.
            Often, when it comes to the Cross, we don’t “come and see” because we assume that we already know. For much of Christian thought, the story goes something like this: God created humanity, and then Adam and Eve sinned, and this essentially put humanity “in debt” to God and it’s a debt that we’re unable to pay, so God sends his Son to be born on earth, and was killed as the payment for our sins. That’s an oversimplication, but it’s likely a story you’ve heard before. There are many, many problems with that approach to sin and salvation, but the conflict that John puts before us this morning is that he calls Jesus the “Lamb of God.”
            You’ll remember that the way the story unfolds is that we kill Jesus, not God. God is not the sacrificer, God is not the butcher, we are. Rather, God offers Jesus to us to teach us about the Kingdom of God, the depths of love, the power of faith, and the abiding presence of God with us. But we didn’t want to look at hard truths, we didn’t want to change our ways, we couldn’t stand a love so pure. So we did our worst to Jesus on the Cross. We sacrificed him, we killed him, not God. We wanted a scapegoat, and so we turned Jesus into one.
            So often, we flip the equation and distort the meaning of the Cross. We say that Jesus was sent to be an offering for our sins to satiate God’s wrath, when in reality, we made Jesus into an offering for our sins because God was so committed to us that he’d allow himself to die at the hands of his Creation. If we heed John’s words to “come and see,” what we see is that Jesus shows us something about the extent to which God will go to abide with us and the depths that we are capable of. Nowhere in Scripture do we find the notion that God required a “final payment” for any debt that sin caused. That is an image of God that is vengeful, blood-thirsty, and unable to forgive freely – not exactly the images of God that are founded in Scripture, such as God being loving and merciful. All the more, the invitation to “come and see” is important.
This misreading of how Jesus is the Lamb of God can be catastrophic to our theology. Instead of grace we erroneously focus on condemnation. Instead of Jesus showing love and commitment, we can wrongly see Jesus as nothing more than blood sacrifice. We might ignore our role in Jesus’ death. And so when we come and see, what we will see when we misinterpret the Cross is some version of Christianity that would be foreign to the disciples and to Jesus himself. The invitation that John issues is for us to come and see God as he is actually revealed in Scripture and Jesus, not to build our faith on shallow assumptions.
This is an invitation to go deeper into our faith in this season after Epiphany: to come and see, not an angry God who is disappointed with us and has to send his son to die before he’s allowed to forgive our wickedness, but rather come and see the God of Scripture who is merciful, just, steadfast, and loving. There are a few ways that we might come and see more deeply and fully.
For one, if we are to come and see Jesus, the best way to do it really is simple, but it takes discipline. Reading Scripture is crucial. In the Bible, we have centuries worth of stories about God’s interactions with humanity. We can read to be inspired, to be challenged, to come to know God more deeply. One great way to come and see is to take up and read.
            Another fantastic way to come and see more fully who Jesus is, and in turn, who we are, is by coming to worship. Now, if you’re hearing this, then you probably already get the importance of worship. What I want to say about liturgy though is that it works. Our worship is built on prayers that are hundreds of years old, and in some cases, thousands of years old. Our worship, because it is rooted in common prayer, unties us to people across the globe and across ages. It’s part of what makes The Episcopal Church so unique and valuable – that we are united by worship, not theology. Some of you are very liberal in your theology and political views and some of you are very conservative. Some of you are very wealthy and some of you are living paycheck to paycheck. Some of you would say that your faith is “very strong” and some of you would say that you have “a lot” of doubts. Some of you would love nothing more than to have incense at every service and some of you would rather never smell it again. But here’s the thing – none of that really matters because of our commitment to common prayer.
            What makes us Anglican isn’t that we all dress the same way, that we all think the same things, that we all have the same preferences when it comes to liturgy. Rather, the gift of our Anglican heritage and faith is that we are united by the fact that we say the some words together, that we kneel at the same altar together, that we sing the same hymns together, that we drink of the same cup together.
            But the trick to this bond of common worship is that it is only as strong as your commitment to common worship. Think of it in terms of learning a foreign language. If you want to learn Spanish, you’re not going to get very far if you only study every few weeks. No, it will take commitment and regular practice. That’s how liturgy is. Liturgy absolutely shapes us and saves us, but for the full effect, we need the right dosage. Because when you commit to coming to church consistently and regularly, you come and see the power of the Eucharist to bind up our wounds and nourish our souls, you come and see relationships that truly matter, you come and see the Word of God proclaimed, you come and see how Baptism names us as God’s beloved.
            For some people, this is quickly evident in worship. After a few weeks, transformation begins. For others, it may take years, or even decades. But as the inheritors of a 2,000 year old tradition, it can be trusted that liturgy works, so long as we commit to coming and seeing.
            Often in art, John the Baptist can be seen pointing to Jesus. This is based on Scripture, where John makes it clear that he is not the Messiah, but rather points to Jesus as this figure. Part of coming and seeing is about doing this work of pointing. Sometimes you’ll hear it called “evangelism,” but really, it’s as simple as offering the invitation for others to “come and see.” If you found the cure to a disease, wouldn’t you want to share with others? Wouldn’t you contact researchers and doctors to come and see your discovery?
            Why then, in our faith, are we so reluctant to invite people to come and see? I think it goes back to that question that we began with “what are you looking for?”. If we’re not able to articulate why it is that we come to church, how can we invite people in a meaningful or authentic way. When you have come and seen, you can then say to others, “If you want to know of God’s glory, if you want to be filled with bread that never perishes, if you want to quench your thirst with living water, if you want to abide in love, if you want to see the light of the world, if you want to know the Good Shepherd, if you want to enter everlasting life, if you want to know God, then come and see.”
            This Epiphany, you are invited to come and see. Come and see God for yourself. Come and see the Cross of Christ not as divine punishment, but as divine solidarity. Come and see God in Scripture. Come and see God in Eucharist. Tell others to come and see St. Luke’s – the church that feeds people in body, mind, and spirit. Come and see who you are revealed to be in Jesus Christ: a beloved child of God. Come and see.