Becoming what we were meant to be
Commentary
Object:
Mine is a family of book lovers. Early on, my wife and I encouraged our daughters to read and bought them books we thought they'd enjoy. It was no surprise to us that in their younger years the girls often chose books by the look of their covers. But as they grew to love the quality of the stories they read, the appearance of a book became less important. Now they understand that "you can't judge a book by its cover."
English is full of proverbs like that -- still waters run deep, beauty is only skin deep, looks can be deceiving, good things come in small packages. We learn quickly to distrust appearances because too often they don't tell the whole story.
Still, it's nice when the cover of a book is of the same wonderful quality as that of the story inside. I have some leather bound, gold-embossed books that I appreciate as much for their intelligent construction as for their inspiring character. So it is with each of today's lectionary readings. Isaiah's "Servant Songs," including the second of which we look at this week, describe someone who was chosen by God to be born and fashioned of quality spiritual stuff, and whose life would be worked out consistent to that design. Paul, too, reflects on the membership of his beloved and frustrating Corinthian congregation as a people chosen and challenged with him to be golden on the inside and shining witnesses on the outside. And John's memories of Jesus' first days of public ministry show a man called and destined to be nothing less than the incarnate Son of God who helps others find their identity and destiny as well.
Isaiah 49:1-7
Today's Old Testament reading is comprised of the bulk of the second of four "Servant Songs" found in the last half of Isaiah's prophecy. The others are Isaiah 42:1-9, Isaiah 50:4-9, and Isaiah 52:13--53:12. This "Servant Song" actually continues through verse 13, but the essence of its message is found in these first nine verses. Here the Suffering Servant testifies of his unique call and commissioning. His voice and message are then confirmed by successive oracles in which Yahweh speaks, announcing that his servant was ordained for this ministry from before his birth, and that both kings and outcasts will experience divine favor through the work of this one. The outcome will be a restoration of joy to the entire world, which has too long suffered under the consequences of evil.
The full scope of the Servant Songs is a personal and poignant introspection about how Yahweh will bring success out of Israel's failure, global peace out of international terror and war, a return of Edenic bliss to a creation strapped by famine and death, and a fulfillment of spiritual focus centered on earth's true Creator. The particular note that opens this song is that of the calling and commissioning of this Servant. Who is this Suffering Servant: Israel herself? The prophet called to voice these messages? Hezekiah or some other Davidic king who becomes the instrument of divine deliverance? Jesus as the messianic fulfillment embodied? We don't have that clarity from the song itself. But the divine word assures us that one will be raised up by God to breathe life, health, and restoration into the nation of Israel and restore to it the mission of witness to the nations of the world. While Isaiah might have felt the call of this task as his own or that of his favorite king, Hezekiah, and as Jews wait for the Messiah, or live under the weight of this messianic mantle as their lot in this unresolved world, Christians have always pointed to Jesus. Like other great ones from the past, he emerged from lowly origins to become what the divine mandate said he would be.
There is an interesting albeit limited parallel to draw between Caesar Augustus, the mighty Roman emperor who brooded over the world at the time of Jesus' birth, and Christ himself. All who saw what he looked like never expected him to gain exalted position in society. Here is how those who knew him described him: He is quite short; he has such sensitive skin that he dares not be out in the sun too long -- and never without his head covered; he walks with a limp; his right hand fails him from time to time, so he rarely uses it; bladder stones cause him daily pain; he doesn't sleep well; he catches cold easily; and horseback riding tires him, so he is often carried to the battlefield on a litter.
Can you imagine a man bearing that description becoming the great Caesar Augustus? Yet he did. Part of his secret lies in an event that occurred when he was a young boy: One day he visited the well-known astrologer and fortune-teller Theogenes. When Theogenes read the boy's horoscope, he was so impressed with the prophecy that he fell on his face and worshiped him.
You and I may not believe in astrology, but Cesar Augustus did. All throughout the struggles of his life, he lived as if this prophecy were true. And eventually it became true.
How much more significant is this prophecy for Christ and for us? Jesus certainly knew the meaning that God's long history of salvation placed squarely on his shoulders. However, those of us who become the ongoing incarnation of Christ in this world share his identity as well, and need ever and again to become what we are meant to be: the Servant of God for the redemptive transformation of God's world.
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
The city of Corinth, located at the southwestern end of the narrow land bridge between Greece's northern and southern mainland regions, played a vital role for the region in both land and sea trade. It was a wealthy metropolis during the first-century AD and coupled that abundance of resources with many social vices. Sexual openness and experimentation, in particular, oozed out of Corinth, until the rest of the Mediterranean world began to use its name to identify lascivious lifestyles.
Paul's stay in Corinth is quickly told in Acts 18:1-17. He began his missionary sojourn there, as usual, with a time of teaching about Jesus to the Jews in the local synagogue. Paul was eventually forced out by vigorous opponents who refused to acknowledge that Jesus could have been the promised messiah. Although Paul was no longer permitted to speak in the synagogue, the leader of the synagogue became a believer, as did a good number of its members. From a new location in the house adjacent to the synagogue, and also from his workspace in the Corinthian market as a tentmaker, Paul broadened his preaching dialogues with people until a thriving congregation was formed of both Jewish and Gentile converts.
Encouraged by a vision that affirmed divine blessing on his ministry there (Acts 18:9-11), Paul stayed in Corinth at least a year-and-a-half (virtually all of 50 AD and well along into 51 AD). Then he decided to make a report back at his sending church in Syrian Antioch and took his new friends Priscilla and Aquila along (Acts 18:18). Stopping briefly in Ephesus, across the Aegean Sea, Paul felt a strong pull to engage in a similar church-planting effort there. But he was already committed to his travel plans, so he left Priscilla and Aquila in Ephesus and vowed to return soon (Acts 18:19-21). It was probably a couple of months later when Paul came back overland through Asia Minor and set up shop in Ephesus (Acts 19:1). Priscilla and Aquila had already established a solid core of converts and new leaders. Among their number was Apollos, a keen and well-schooled Jew from Alexandria who was able to quickly understand how Jesus could be the Jewish messiah (Acts 18:24-28).
Paul stayed on in Ephesus for more than two years (Acts 19:8-10), carrying out a number of regional mission journeys and growing a significant Christian presence in the city itself. It was during this time that members from his former congregation in Corinth began a series of contacts that would eventually cause Paul to write two of his most passionate and profound letters of Christian instruction. We know them today as 1 and 2 Corinthians.
Probably sometime in late 51 AD or early 52 AD Paul sent a letter of strongly worded reproof to the Corinthian congregation. No copies have survived, but from what Paul himself says about it in 1 Corinthians 5:9, it is easy to see why some might take exception to it. Indeed, it appears that a number of people in the congregation began to disown Paul's authority after reading that letter and promote factionalism in the community, based upon personal preferences about which leaders each would claim as having greater sway among them. Meanwhile, a delegation of three men (Stephanus, Fortunatus, Achaicus) who were highly respectful of Paul's apostolic authority, traveled from Corinth to Ephesus, bringing to Paul an oral report about the difficulties going on in the church. They also carried a written list of questions that members of the congregation were raising.
Paul quickly wrote a letter of response. Although this was actually his second letter to the Corinthian congregation, it survives as 1 Corinthians in the New Testament. Immediately in these opening passages, Paul addresses the difficulties some have at his continued influence in the congregation. He chastises the members for dividing up into parties where each waves a banner acclaiming the worthiness of a different leader. These groupings were sinful and disruptive, according to Paul, for they denied the honor that ought to be given only to the true head of the church, Jesus Christ. They also played favorites among human leaders who each have a particular set of gifts for helping the church as a whole to grow. By chapter 4, Paul was ready to give an apology for his own apostolic authority, pleading with the Corinthians to receive his teachings as God's own initiatives toward them.
Before the criticism and chastisement begin, Paul first reminds this recalcitrant congregation that there is a hope beyond merely their own best efforts at change. They are the saints of God, the community of Christ, the hope of resurrection and new life. Because of what they are, they can become something better than what they have been misbehaving!
John 1:29-42
The gospel of John is unlike any other biblical or extra-biblical writing. Since it has most literary kinship with the Synoptic gospels, in that it rehearses elements from the life and teachings of Jesus, it forms part of the "gospel quartet" of the New Testament. But even a quick read will show significant differences from these other uniquely Christian writings. First, it has a global philosophic introduction that places the story of Jesus in a comprehensive cosmological frame of reference. Second, it is often more cryptic in its conversational narratives than are the other gospels, making it harder to understand how or why some of these dialogues could have taken place. Third, while it acknowledges that Jesus did many miracles, it reports only seven of these during his public ministry, and elevates the significance of these few by attaching to them deeper and more complex secondary meanings. Fourth, there are extended monologues by Jesus scattered throughout the pages of John's gospel, which are both mystical and doctrinal, and have no clear parallel to the manner of Jesus' teachings or conversations as recorded by the Synoptics. In short, the fourth gospel is a wild ride in a theme park of its own.
Yet it is also so homey and comfortable that elements of it are like old slacks and shirts worn easily. The Greek language, through which the text is communicated, is basic and simple so that even beginner students can quickly read it. Many of its teachings, from the lips of Jesus, have become the inextricable metaphors and motifs by which we know him and ourselves -- the Good Shepherd, the Light of the World, the Resurrection and the Life, the Vine, and so forth. Some of the conversations Jesus has with others are recorded in a manner that makes us feel as if we were the only ones they were penned for, and we are always sitting next to Jesus again when we read them. Even our Christian theology and worldview has been so shaped, over the centuries, by themes from this document, that we cannot separate it from us, or imagine Christianity apart from these 21 chapters. The gospel according to John is a key element of biblical faith.
Although its literary development is markedly different from that of the Synoptic gospels, there is a very clear pattern to John's rehearsal of thought and portrayal of Jesus' activities and teachings in this gospel. A significant transition in referential time takes place between chapters 12 and 13 (related to the coming of the "the hour" for Jesus, note 2:4; 4:23; 7:6; 12:23; 13:1; 17:1). This change is further accentuated by the grouping of all of Jesus' "miraculous signs," as John calls them, into the first twelve chapters. For these reasons the first part of John's gospel is often called "The Book of Signs," while the last part wears well the name "The Book of Glory." A highly significant prologue opens the gospel (1:1-18), and an epilogue, perhaps written by another party and added after the initial gospel was completed (ch. 21), brings it to a close.
The curious strength of that powerfully creative literary skeleton can be found in our gospel reading today. Notice that the prologue summary is completed in the first fourteen verses, followed by John's brief authorial nod in 1:15-18. Then comes a quick series of vignettes that proceed by marked "days." The work of John the Baptist is highlighted in the first "day" (1:19-28), the public identification of Jesus is the point of the second "day" (1:29-34), the welcoming home of the first disciples marks the third "day" (1:35-43), and the beginning of the mission shared by Jesus and his followers is the focus of the fourth "day" (1:44-51). John's chronology then places Jesus' first "miraculous sign" (water into wine at the marriage feast in Cana) three days later (2:1), thus declaring that it takes place on the "sabbath" of these initial seven days, and thus the celebration of God's good pleasure in the creation.
In other words, the close calendar watching that marks John's initial scenes is very important. Like the days of creation in Genesis (to which John makes a very clear connection as the gospel opens), divine light shines in the darkness on day one (John the Baptist's testimony as he hovers above the waters of the Jordan), the firmaments are distinguished in day two (Jesus is from above, we are from below), a home is made for use on day three (like the earth of human above in the creation listing), and the bearer of light begins to warm the world to life on the fourth day.
So today's gospel reading needs to be read in tandem with Genesis 1, a fitting exercise at the beginning of this year. The point John is making as he opens the story of Jesus is that in a world compromised and darkened by sin, the light of eternity begins to shine again, and we who were created for life begin to stir again with divine glory. Jesus, of course, is the firstfruits at the head of the new humanity, but we are invited along in the transformation, becoming once again what we were meant to be.
Application
Victor Hugo called his masterpiece Les Miserables a religious work. So it is. The story echoes the gospel message at nearly every turn.
The main character, Jean Valjean, has been beaten hard by the cruel twists of fate. He has seen the sham of hypocrisy on all sides. So he casts the name of the Lord to the ground like a curse. What does God know of him, and what does it matter?
Imprisoned for stealing bread to feed his family and resentenced by the vindictive will of his jailer, Jean Valjean finally manages to escape. On his first night of freedom, he stays with a bishop, who treats him well. But behind Jean Valjean's thankful mask is the cunning face of a thief, for the bishop has many valuables.
In the early morning hours, Jean Valjean steals away with some silver plates. And when his suspicious appearance brings him under arrest, he is forced to face the bishop again, charged with new crimes.
Then the miracle of grace occurs. For in Jean Valjean's eyes the bishop sees something that begs forgiveness and hopes for mercy. Instead of taking revenge, the bishop declares that the silver dishes were a gift to Jean Valjean. In fact, he says Jean Valjean forgot to take the two silver candlesticks he had also given him.
In an instant, the bishop declares Jean Valjean innocent and gives him back his life. But with this gift of forgiveness, he commissions Jean Valjean to bring Christ to others. The rest of Jean Valjean's life becomes a testimony of one who is made new in the grace of divine love. He becomes what he was meant to be.
Alternative Application
1 Corinthians 1:1-9. Charles Darwin grew up in a Christian home, yet later in life he rejected Christianity's hold on him. How did this loss of faith happen? Here's the explanation from his autobiography: "I gradually came to disbelieve in Christianity… Disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but at last it was complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress."
Darwin's words could have fallen from the pages of many diaries. His experience is the same as many in the church who lose their faith. They lose it because they don't use it; because they never do anything with it. Because they have become less than they truly are.
The Corinthian Christians were in danger of the same as Paul wrote to them. They needed to remember who they were beyond the distracting tedium of daily conflicts. So do we.
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 40:1-11
Supermarket lines are the ultimate test of patience. The unspoken rule of supermarket line karma is, of course, that one should never switch lines. If this rule is broken, it is a sure and true thing that the person in front of you in your former line will get out long before you. This is so true that it might as well be etched in scripture. Yet standing there, overwhelmed with the sixty things that need to be done that day, while the checker examines each item with excruciating slowness, the temptation to jump line is overwhelming. Rather than settling in to a relaxed and gracious spirit while the line moves forward, the furtive search for a shorter line commences. "Ah! There! Look! Three cash registers down from here the line is much shorter!"
So, with muttered apologies and mumbled mantras of "scuse me, scuse me," the new line is found and entered. Time passes, and sure enough, the person who is front of you in your former line is now waddling out the door with their groceries all paid for and neatly tucked into brown paper bags. And to add insult to injury, the person waves as they move on through the electrically opened door.
Patience, as they say, is a virtue.
Yet if patience in the supermarket line is difficult, how hard can it be to wait on the Lord with patience? At least you'll be out of the supermarket in less than an hour. In some cases, we wait on the Lord for… what? Centuries? How long did Moses lead his people in the desert before finally finding Canaan? How long did the people of Israel wait to be pulled from exile? How long did San Francisco wait for the Giants to win a World Series title? How hard it is to wait patiently on the Lord!
Patience is perhaps one of the profound signs of a deepening spirituality. If we do not have the patience to center our spirits in prayer so that we can wait upon the Lord, we will not travel far in faith. If we do not have the patience to sit through tantrums and tirades, through inanity and insanity, there will be little left of us to proceed in faith.
Indeed, patience is the glue that holds us together as a spiritual people. One cannot be in relationship with people or God without patience. Parenting is a virtual impossibility without patience. And we know that both leading and following requires patience, whether it be at work or in church.
The call comes now, as always, for us to wait upon the Lord with patience. More than that, however, it comes as a call to cultivate and nurture patience. For it is in patience that we will survive. It is through patience we will find a new beginning.
English is full of proverbs like that -- still waters run deep, beauty is only skin deep, looks can be deceiving, good things come in small packages. We learn quickly to distrust appearances because too often they don't tell the whole story.
Still, it's nice when the cover of a book is of the same wonderful quality as that of the story inside. I have some leather bound, gold-embossed books that I appreciate as much for their intelligent construction as for their inspiring character. So it is with each of today's lectionary readings. Isaiah's "Servant Songs," including the second of which we look at this week, describe someone who was chosen by God to be born and fashioned of quality spiritual stuff, and whose life would be worked out consistent to that design. Paul, too, reflects on the membership of his beloved and frustrating Corinthian congregation as a people chosen and challenged with him to be golden on the inside and shining witnesses on the outside. And John's memories of Jesus' first days of public ministry show a man called and destined to be nothing less than the incarnate Son of God who helps others find their identity and destiny as well.
Isaiah 49:1-7
Today's Old Testament reading is comprised of the bulk of the second of four "Servant Songs" found in the last half of Isaiah's prophecy. The others are Isaiah 42:1-9, Isaiah 50:4-9, and Isaiah 52:13--53:12. This "Servant Song" actually continues through verse 13, but the essence of its message is found in these first nine verses. Here the Suffering Servant testifies of his unique call and commissioning. His voice and message are then confirmed by successive oracles in which Yahweh speaks, announcing that his servant was ordained for this ministry from before his birth, and that both kings and outcasts will experience divine favor through the work of this one. The outcome will be a restoration of joy to the entire world, which has too long suffered under the consequences of evil.
The full scope of the Servant Songs is a personal and poignant introspection about how Yahweh will bring success out of Israel's failure, global peace out of international terror and war, a return of Edenic bliss to a creation strapped by famine and death, and a fulfillment of spiritual focus centered on earth's true Creator. The particular note that opens this song is that of the calling and commissioning of this Servant. Who is this Suffering Servant: Israel herself? The prophet called to voice these messages? Hezekiah or some other Davidic king who becomes the instrument of divine deliverance? Jesus as the messianic fulfillment embodied? We don't have that clarity from the song itself. But the divine word assures us that one will be raised up by God to breathe life, health, and restoration into the nation of Israel and restore to it the mission of witness to the nations of the world. While Isaiah might have felt the call of this task as his own or that of his favorite king, Hezekiah, and as Jews wait for the Messiah, or live under the weight of this messianic mantle as their lot in this unresolved world, Christians have always pointed to Jesus. Like other great ones from the past, he emerged from lowly origins to become what the divine mandate said he would be.
There is an interesting albeit limited parallel to draw between Caesar Augustus, the mighty Roman emperor who brooded over the world at the time of Jesus' birth, and Christ himself. All who saw what he looked like never expected him to gain exalted position in society. Here is how those who knew him described him: He is quite short; he has such sensitive skin that he dares not be out in the sun too long -- and never without his head covered; he walks with a limp; his right hand fails him from time to time, so he rarely uses it; bladder stones cause him daily pain; he doesn't sleep well; he catches cold easily; and horseback riding tires him, so he is often carried to the battlefield on a litter.
Can you imagine a man bearing that description becoming the great Caesar Augustus? Yet he did. Part of his secret lies in an event that occurred when he was a young boy: One day he visited the well-known astrologer and fortune-teller Theogenes. When Theogenes read the boy's horoscope, he was so impressed with the prophecy that he fell on his face and worshiped him.
You and I may not believe in astrology, but Cesar Augustus did. All throughout the struggles of his life, he lived as if this prophecy were true. And eventually it became true.
How much more significant is this prophecy for Christ and for us? Jesus certainly knew the meaning that God's long history of salvation placed squarely on his shoulders. However, those of us who become the ongoing incarnation of Christ in this world share his identity as well, and need ever and again to become what we are meant to be: the Servant of God for the redemptive transformation of God's world.
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
The city of Corinth, located at the southwestern end of the narrow land bridge between Greece's northern and southern mainland regions, played a vital role for the region in both land and sea trade. It was a wealthy metropolis during the first-century AD and coupled that abundance of resources with many social vices. Sexual openness and experimentation, in particular, oozed out of Corinth, until the rest of the Mediterranean world began to use its name to identify lascivious lifestyles.
Paul's stay in Corinth is quickly told in Acts 18:1-17. He began his missionary sojourn there, as usual, with a time of teaching about Jesus to the Jews in the local synagogue. Paul was eventually forced out by vigorous opponents who refused to acknowledge that Jesus could have been the promised messiah. Although Paul was no longer permitted to speak in the synagogue, the leader of the synagogue became a believer, as did a good number of its members. From a new location in the house adjacent to the synagogue, and also from his workspace in the Corinthian market as a tentmaker, Paul broadened his preaching dialogues with people until a thriving congregation was formed of both Jewish and Gentile converts.
Encouraged by a vision that affirmed divine blessing on his ministry there (Acts 18:9-11), Paul stayed in Corinth at least a year-and-a-half (virtually all of 50 AD and well along into 51 AD). Then he decided to make a report back at his sending church in Syrian Antioch and took his new friends Priscilla and Aquila along (Acts 18:18). Stopping briefly in Ephesus, across the Aegean Sea, Paul felt a strong pull to engage in a similar church-planting effort there. But he was already committed to his travel plans, so he left Priscilla and Aquila in Ephesus and vowed to return soon (Acts 18:19-21). It was probably a couple of months later when Paul came back overland through Asia Minor and set up shop in Ephesus (Acts 19:1). Priscilla and Aquila had already established a solid core of converts and new leaders. Among their number was Apollos, a keen and well-schooled Jew from Alexandria who was able to quickly understand how Jesus could be the Jewish messiah (Acts 18:24-28).
Paul stayed on in Ephesus for more than two years (Acts 19:8-10), carrying out a number of regional mission journeys and growing a significant Christian presence in the city itself. It was during this time that members from his former congregation in Corinth began a series of contacts that would eventually cause Paul to write two of his most passionate and profound letters of Christian instruction. We know them today as 1 and 2 Corinthians.
Probably sometime in late 51 AD or early 52 AD Paul sent a letter of strongly worded reproof to the Corinthian congregation. No copies have survived, but from what Paul himself says about it in 1 Corinthians 5:9, it is easy to see why some might take exception to it. Indeed, it appears that a number of people in the congregation began to disown Paul's authority after reading that letter and promote factionalism in the community, based upon personal preferences about which leaders each would claim as having greater sway among them. Meanwhile, a delegation of three men (Stephanus, Fortunatus, Achaicus) who were highly respectful of Paul's apostolic authority, traveled from Corinth to Ephesus, bringing to Paul an oral report about the difficulties going on in the church. They also carried a written list of questions that members of the congregation were raising.
Paul quickly wrote a letter of response. Although this was actually his second letter to the Corinthian congregation, it survives as 1 Corinthians in the New Testament. Immediately in these opening passages, Paul addresses the difficulties some have at his continued influence in the congregation. He chastises the members for dividing up into parties where each waves a banner acclaiming the worthiness of a different leader. These groupings were sinful and disruptive, according to Paul, for they denied the honor that ought to be given only to the true head of the church, Jesus Christ. They also played favorites among human leaders who each have a particular set of gifts for helping the church as a whole to grow. By chapter 4, Paul was ready to give an apology for his own apostolic authority, pleading with the Corinthians to receive his teachings as God's own initiatives toward them.
Before the criticism and chastisement begin, Paul first reminds this recalcitrant congregation that there is a hope beyond merely their own best efforts at change. They are the saints of God, the community of Christ, the hope of resurrection and new life. Because of what they are, they can become something better than what they have been misbehaving!
John 1:29-42
The gospel of John is unlike any other biblical or extra-biblical writing. Since it has most literary kinship with the Synoptic gospels, in that it rehearses elements from the life and teachings of Jesus, it forms part of the "gospel quartet" of the New Testament. But even a quick read will show significant differences from these other uniquely Christian writings. First, it has a global philosophic introduction that places the story of Jesus in a comprehensive cosmological frame of reference. Second, it is often more cryptic in its conversational narratives than are the other gospels, making it harder to understand how or why some of these dialogues could have taken place. Third, while it acknowledges that Jesus did many miracles, it reports only seven of these during his public ministry, and elevates the significance of these few by attaching to them deeper and more complex secondary meanings. Fourth, there are extended monologues by Jesus scattered throughout the pages of John's gospel, which are both mystical and doctrinal, and have no clear parallel to the manner of Jesus' teachings or conversations as recorded by the Synoptics. In short, the fourth gospel is a wild ride in a theme park of its own.
Yet it is also so homey and comfortable that elements of it are like old slacks and shirts worn easily. The Greek language, through which the text is communicated, is basic and simple so that even beginner students can quickly read it. Many of its teachings, from the lips of Jesus, have become the inextricable metaphors and motifs by which we know him and ourselves -- the Good Shepherd, the Light of the World, the Resurrection and the Life, the Vine, and so forth. Some of the conversations Jesus has with others are recorded in a manner that makes us feel as if we were the only ones they were penned for, and we are always sitting next to Jesus again when we read them. Even our Christian theology and worldview has been so shaped, over the centuries, by themes from this document, that we cannot separate it from us, or imagine Christianity apart from these 21 chapters. The gospel according to John is a key element of biblical faith.
Although its literary development is markedly different from that of the Synoptic gospels, there is a very clear pattern to John's rehearsal of thought and portrayal of Jesus' activities and teachings in this gospel. A significant transition in referential time takes place between chapters 12 and 13 (related to the coming of the "the hour" for Jesus, note 2:4; 4:23; 7:6; 12:23; 13:1; 17:1). This change is further accentuated by the grouping of all of Jesus' "miraculous signs," as John calls them, into the first twelve chapters. For these reasons the first part of John's gospel is often called "The Book of Signs," while the last part wears well the name "The Book of Glory." A highly significant prologue opens the gospel (1:1-18), and an epilogue, perhaps written by another party and added after the initial gospel was completed (ch. 21), brings it to a close.
The curious strength of that powerfully creative literary skeleton can be found in our gospel reading today. Notice that the prologue summary is completed in the first fourteen verses, followed by John's brief authorial nod in 1:15-18. Then comes a quick series of vignettes that proceed by marked "days." The work of John the Baptist is highlighted in the first "day" (1:19-28), the public identification of Jesus is the point of the second "day" (1:29-34), the welcoming home of the first disciples marks the third "day" (1:35-43), and the beginning of the mission shared by Jesus and his followers is the focus of the fourth "day" (1:44-51). John's chronology then places Jesus' first "miraculous sign" (water into wine at the marriage feast in Cana) three days later (2:1), thus declaring that it takes place on the "sabbath" of these initial seven days, and thus the celebration of God's good pleasure in the creation.
In other words, the close calendar watching that marks John's initial scenes is very important. Like the days of creation in Genesis (to which John makes a very clear connection as the gospel opens), divine light shines in the darkness on day one (John the Baptist's testimony as he hovers above the waters of the Jordan), the firmaments are distinguished in day two (Jesus is from above, we are from below), a home is made for use on day three (like the earth of human above in the creation listing), and the bearer of light begins to warm the world to life on the fourth day.
So today's gospel reading needs to be read in tandem with Genesis 1, a fitting exercise at the beginning of this year. The point John is making as he opens the story of Jesus is that in a world compromised and darkened by sin, the light of eternity begins to shine again, and we who were created for life begin to stir again with divine glory. Jesus, of course, is the firstfruits at the head of the new humanity, but we are invited along in the transformation, becoming once again what we were meant to be.
Application
Victor Hugo called his masterpiece Les Miserables a religious work. So it is. The story echoes the gospel message at nearly every turn.
The main character, Jean Valjean, has been beaten hard by the cruel twists of fate. He has seen the sham of hypocrisy on all sides. So he casts the name of the Lord to the ground like a curse. What does God know of him, and what does it matter?
Imprisoned for stealing bread to feed his family and resentenced by the vindictive will of his jailer, Jean Valjean finally manages to escape. On his first night of freedom, he stays with a bishop, who treats him well. But behind Jean Valjean's thankful mask is the cunning face of a thief, for the bishop has many valuables.
In the early morning hours, Jean Valjean steals away with some silver plates. And when his suspicious appearance brings him under arrest, he is forced to face the bishop again, charged with new crimes.
Then the miracle of grace occurs. For in Jean Valjean's eyes the bishop sees something that begs forgiveness and hopes for mercy. Instead of taking revenge, the bishop declares that the silver dishes were a gift to Jean Valjean. In fact, he says Jean Valjean forgot to take the two silver candlesticks he had also given him.
In an instant, the bishop declares Jean Valjean innocent and gives him back his life. But with this gift of forgiveness, he commissions Jean Valjean to bring Christ to others. The rest of Jean Valjean's life becomes a testimony of one who is made new in the grace of divine love. He becomes what he was meant to be.
Alternative Application
1 Corinthians 1:1-9. Charles Darwin grew up in a Christian home, yet later in life he rejected Christianity's hold on him. How did this loss of faith happen? Here's the explanation from his autobiography: "I gradually came to disbelieve in Christianity… Disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but at last it was complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress."
Darwin's words could have fallen from the pages of many diaries. His experience is the same as many in the church who lose their faith. They lose it because they don't use it; because they never do anything with it. Because they have become less than they truly are.
The Corinthian Christians were in danger of the same as Paul wrote to them. They needed to remember who they were beyond the distracting tedium of daily conflicts. So do we.
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 40:1-11
Supermarket lines are the ultimate test of patience. The unspoken rule of supermarket line karma is, of course, that one should never switch lines. If this rule is broken, it is a sure and true thing that the person in front of you in your former line will get out long before you. This is so true that it might as well be etched in scripture. Yet standing there, overwhelmed with the sixty things that need to be done that day, while the checker examines each item with excruciating slowness, the temptation to jump line is overwhelming. Rather than settling in to a relaxed and gracious spirit while the line moves forward, the furtive search for a shorter line commences. "Ah! There! Look! Three cash registers down from here the line is much shorter!"
So, with muttered apologies and mumbled mantras of "scuse me, scuse me," the new line is found and entered. Time passes, and sure enough, the person who is front of you in your former line is now waddling out the door with their groceries all paid for and neatly tucked into brown paper bags. And to add insult to injury, the person waves as they move on through the electrically opened door.
Patience, as they say, is a virtue.
Yet if patience in the supermarket line is difficult, how hard can it be to wait on the Lord with patience? At least you'll be out of the supermarket in less than an hour. In some cases, we wait on the Lord for… what? Centuries? How long did Moses lead his people in the desert before finally finding Canaan? How long did the people of Israel wait to be pulled from exile? How long did San Francisco wait for the Giants to win a World Series title? How hard it is to wait patiently on the Lord!
Patience is perhaps one of the profound signs of a deepening spirituality. If we do not have the patience to center our spirits in prayer so that we can wait upon the Lord, we will not travel far in faith. If we do not have the patience to sit through tantrums and tirades, through inanity and insanity, there will be little left of us to proceed in faith.
Indeed, patience is the glue that holds us together as a spiritual people. One cannot be in relationship with people or God without patience. Parenting is a virtual impossibility without patience. And we know that both leading and following requires patience, whether it be at work or in church.
The call comes now, as always, for us to wait upon the Lord with patience. More than that, however, it comes as a call to cultivate and nurture patience. For it is in patience that we will survive. It is through patience we will find a new beginning.
