God came to my house and asked for charity. And I fell on my knees and cried, “Beloved, what may I give?” “Just love,” He said. “Just love.”
                                                            - Francis of Assisi    

READING:
“If you love me, show it by doing what I’ve told you. I will talk to the Father, and he’ll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can’t take him in because it doesn’t have eyes to see him, doesn’t know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be in you! “I will not leave you orphaned. I’m coming back. In just a little while the world will no longer see me, but you’re going to see me because I am alive and you’re about to come alive. At that moment you will know absolutely that I’m in my Father, and you’re in me, and I’m in you. “The person who knows my commandments and keeps them, that’s who loves me. And the person who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and make myself plain to him.”
                                         - John 14.15-21 (The Message)

REFLECTION:
The wonderfully zany comedy team of Abbott and Costello informed us years ago that it’s not always easy to know who’s on first. If you remember their hilarious routine of that name – Who’s on First? – you get my drift; if you don’t know the routine… well, it’s worth a google.

Who’s on first? Are all the bases covered? Every ball team needs to know this before leaving the dugout. If we transfer the question from the baseball diamond to the field of life, however, the question takes on added urgency and significance. Are all the bases covered? That is to say, are we protected; are we cared for; are we looked after, prepared for what may come our way, sufficient to the tasks at hand? And at the deepest level, the question becomes simple yet all encompassing, are we loved?

Are we loved? That’s really what we want to know before taking the field of life, isn’t it; before sharing ourselves with others, before risking losing ourselves in the unpredictable ups and downs of life? I think it is. If someone’s got our back, we can take the plunge; if someone is faithfully with us, we are more than willing to share who we are and what we possess… at least to a certain degree.

That’s all John’s Jesus asks of his followers in the passage cited above; share, give… love. He asks them to know and keep his commandments; but he’s made this easy, there is only one commandment: love. And he clearly answers the one question they need to ask before making any effort at all; are we loved?

Just look at the many ways Jesus assures his followers in this passage. Take note of the repetitions and variations by which he underscores the basic assurance of love. God will provide another friend …who will be with you  …who will be in you  …so you will never be alone. Nor will I abandon you, Jesus says. You will not be orphaned on my account; you’ll see me again. I will be with you  …in you; and – did I mention? - my Father will love you. Another friend, Jesus himself… and the Father’s love; what more could we ask for?

It’s not always easy to know who’s on first. It’s not always easy to know if the bases are covered and it’s okay to risk sharing who we are and what we have with others. But if we have the slightest inclination to do so - to love in some meager way – we can rest assured that God’s got all the bases covered. With God we always know who’s on first. 

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
                      - T. S. Eliot



READING:
“Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too. You know the way to the place I’m going.” Thomas asked, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you have really known me, you will also know the Father. From now on you know him and have seen him.” Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father; that will be enough for us.” Jesus replied, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been with you all this time? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words I have spoken to you I don’t speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me does his works. Trust me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or at least believe on account of the works themselves. I assure you that whoever believes in me will do the works that I do. They will do even greater works than these because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask for in my name, so that the Father can be glorified in the Son. When you ask me for anything in my name, I will do it.
                - John 14.1-14 (Common English Bible) 


REFLECTION: 
I adore the words of T. S. Eliot cited above in which life – and all its pursuits – is portrayed in broad strokes as a journey of discovery whose end offers a new vision, a fresh perspective, a more profound understanding of the life we thought we knew so well. When and if we finally make our way home, we find it both strange and familiar; as if we are seeing it – truly seeing it - for the first time.

I wish we students of the Christian bible would take this wisdom to heart, and approach our studies as a journey of discovery in which we dare delve beneath the surface of the texts to the wonder, mystery, profundity, and challenge that reside within. I wish we would just own up to the fact that we never exhaust their meaning; and that there is always more to discover. More often than not this fresh perspective challenges our smugly held beliefs about the meaning of a passage of scripture, and how it informs our faith.

I’ve been thinking in this vein all week, because the gospel reading for Sunday is John 14.1-14; and I don’t want to preach from John 14. I don’t want to preach from this passage because of the many ways its meaning has been coopted, misused, even abused for the sake of supporting a cherished belief, or from the unwillingness to look beyond a traditional reading of the text.

And, let me tell you, several aspects of this passage have been misrepresented and misused. The first section about the troubled heart has been used so often at funerals that we think of it in a morbid sense as a reference to a smattering of comfort during a period of mourning. Released from this mindset, the passage offers a vivid, expansive hope of life lived in fullness both now and into the future. No modicum of comfort is offered in this passage; but rather a bold affirmation of fullness, meaning, and joy! Too often this is overlooked, and this passage becomes to funerals what Paul Stookey’s Wedding Song (a.k.a. There Is Love) is to weddings; bland, boring, and played on the wrong instrument altogether.

Would that this was the worst abuse this passage has seen. This oversight pales in comparison to the rigid, absolutist claims that have been made about Jesus’ self-proclamation as way, truth, and life. The profundity and subtlety of John’s message here is oversimplified, suppressed, or missed altogether so that the passage can be used to support a flat-out condemnation of a big chunk of the world God loves so much (at least according to Jesus). Isn’t it possible that life in its fullness is about something more than a statement of belief about Jesus? Is it inconceivable that God’s grace and compassion have just a bit more wiggle room than this reading allows?

Jesus as the way is an affirmation to be lived out in our life. Jesus as the way is a Jesus to be followed, not simply affirmed as an article of belief. This is underscored by the reference later in the passage to the disciples of Jesus doing the same works – even greater – as Jesus. And folks, this work is not that of a creedal statement. This work, exemplified throughout the life and ministry of Jesus, is an overflowing of compassion and grace; a refusal to allow any individual to go unrecognized and unvalued (like the Samaritan woman); the courage to stand for and with the marginalized and oppressed; and the will to let the love of God flow through us into the world.

Wow! I think I see something new here; or at least a profundity I have missed before. Perhaps there is more depth to be plumbed; perhaps this passage can inform our life of faith in new and powerful ways. I invite you to explore this possibility with me in worship on Sunday. 

How long will grown men and women in this world keep drawing in their coloring books an image of God that makes them sad?                                                                                
                             - Meister Eckhart 


Reading:
“Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.” Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep stealers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of. “I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd puts the sheep before himself, sacrifices himself if necessary. A hired man is not a real shepherd. The sheep mean nothing to him. He sees a wolf come and runs for it, leaving the sheep to be ravaged and scattered by the wolf. He’s only in it for the money. The sheep don’t matter to him. “I am the Good Shepherd.”
                                   - John 10.1-14a (The Message)


Reflection:
When I was in graduate school, Dominic Crossan delivered a lecture series on the parables of Jesus at my university. His work on the parables is first rate, top drawer, and comes highly recommended. And this lecture series was no different. An exchange during this series made a lasting impression on my spirit, and has stuck with me for years. In one lecture Professor Crossan discussed the various ways that Jesus’ parables can confuse and call into question our long cherished ideas, thus allowing new meanings to take their place. And they can do this again and again. One pastor in the audience was scandalized by the very thought that the parables refuse to be reduced to one and only one meaning now-and-forever-more-amen. They can continue to interact with our spirit – and mess with our confident knowledge – and introduce new, profound notions that enrich our understanding and our faith if we will simply allow it.

This passage from chapter 10 is as close as John comes to a parable. Even though it focuses on Jesus rather than the Reign of God (as in the synoptic gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke), it shares some of the characteristics that make Jesus’ parables so enigmatic, profound, and a fertile ground for new meaning. Specifically, this narrative identifies Jesus as both the gate through which the sheep enter, and the good shepherd that cares for and protects the sheep. This ambiguity tends to throw us off balance - we are much like the scandalized pastor, and want one, clear identification and one definitive meaning - and in this way create an opening for new, more profound meaning.

Jesus as shepherd… well, we know just how to make this image boring and mundane. This Jesus is harmless, gentle and oh so sentimental and, to be honest, would fit best in a velvet painting (much like the ones that depict Elvis’ blue swede shoes). Forget the fact that this shepherd cares passionately for the sheep, and protects them even if self-sacrifice is involved. There is nothing sentimental about this shepherd.

Jesus as sheep gate blows sentimentality out of the water. Get past the double image of Jesus and the confusion it causes, and what appears is the notion that Jesus is not only the shepherd that protects us, but is as well the protection itself. Think about that… the shepherd who protects is identical with the One from whom all things come – our creator God – and the unique, reliable source of protection .

This shepherd, this Jesus can be trusted absolutely with all we are and all we have. This Jesus would never abandon or inflict pain into our life. This Jesus cannot be painted in sad, somber colors, and depicted as an ill-tempered judge (and jury!). This Jesus can only be painted in vibrant, rich colors that reflect fulfillment, peace and joy. Need I say more? Perhaps… perhaps we should pray:

“We’re ready God… ready to worship. We’ve all brought along our coloring book; that palette nestled deeply in our heart on which we draw your image. We rarely show this sketch to others, because we’re not sure what colors to use, or what name to choose as a title. We can easily see you in dark, somber colors. Such images are as varied as they are numerous, yet they reveal a common thread of distant, brooding authority, hungry for adulation and ready to pass judgment. Then that weaver of tales comes along and draws a shepherd in simple, gentle words; a guardian strong yet loving, firm yet protective, always given to laughter and joyful exuberance. Such a one is beyond our ability to draw. The colors required surpass our wildest imaginings in their brilliance and beauty. And the names…. the names are as numerous as the stars, as deep as love, as broad as compassion. Draw this image in our heart, O God, so that we may draw near to you, and find in you all that we need…”

Bear with patience all that is unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were rooms yet to enter or books written in a foreign language. Don’t dig for answers that can’t be given you yet. Live the questions now, perhaps then, someday, you will live into the answer.
                - Rainer Maria Rilke (Adapted for worship)    


READING
Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but, fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, “Peace to you.” But Thomas, sometimes called the Twin, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples told him, “We saw the Master.” But he said, “Unless I see the nail holes in his hands, put my finger in the nail holes, and stick my hand in his side, I won’t believe it.” Eight days later, his disciples were again in the room. This time Thomas was with them. Jesus came through the locked doors, stood among them, and said, “Peace to you.” Then he focused his attention on Thomas. “Take your finger and examine my hands. Take your hand and stick it in my side. Don’t be unbelieving. Believe.” Thomas said, “My Master! My God!” Jesus said, “So, you believe because you’ve seen with your own eyes. Even better blessings are in store for those who believe without seeing.” Jesus provided far more God-revealing signs than are written down in this book. These are written down so you will believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and in the act of believing, have real and eternal life in the way he personally revealed it.    
                            - John 20:19, 24-31 (The Message)


REFLECTION
In a recent discussion over coffee with a friend I expressed reservations about a project he wanted to undertake, and he responded by calling me a Doubting Thomas. And – you know what? - it didn’t sound to me like a compliment. Most of us, in fact, think of doubt as something shady, dubious, unhealthy, or just plain dirty. We think of doubt as the beginning of a slippery slope careening off the narrow way. It may be a road less taken, but that’s okay because it’s not a road worth traveling. This is harsh stuff, no doubt (pun intended; I couldn’t resist), but perhaps this dark assessment of doubt explains why I was conditioned to feel guilty, even ashamed, for expressing doubt by the Southern-fried Fundamentalist Church in which I was raised.

I reckon I should confess that I didn’t prove to be an outstanding representative of this proud religious heritage. To me, doubt didn’t feel dirty from the inside out; that was imposed on me from the outside. For me, doubt was simply a necessity. It was there no matter how hard I tried to walk the walk of a fundamentalist and root it out with piety and stubborn belief. And in the end it was not a bad thing. In fact, it was only when I embraced my doubts and questions that they began to open out to spiritual insight, strength, and growth in the Spirit of which I was incapable before.

I think Thomas, commonly dubbed Doubting Thomas, would understand my plight; I think he experienced something quite similar in his spiritual life; and I think that this passage from John 20 reveals the origins of a spiritual giant that can serve as role model for faith. Faith, that is to say, that develops not in spite of, but through doubt. To be perfectly honest, I think the moral of this story is as simple as it is overlooked – doubt saves the day.

Before his encounter with the risen Lord, Thomas suffered from the same fears that drive many of us. He wanted hard proof of this claim of resurrection before he would be willing to risk anything on it. He didn’t want to christen anything as true unless he could feel it, touch it, probe it, and in so doing clearly define it, limit it, and make it manageable.

Please note, however, that when Jesus invited Thomas to touch, probe, and feel resurrection life… he declined, and exclaimed in near ecstasy, My Master! My God! His fear had vanished, and solid, earthbound evidence had become inadequate, even superfluous. Thomas’ doubt was transformed in the presence of resurrection life into what could be called caution in the face of mystery. His questions, his reservations, were not barriers to faith. Rather, they reflected his recognition that what he sought was beyond his understanding; it was beyond his control, that he had nothing to give to resurrection life, but had only to receive its fullness.

Like Thomas I say, Give me doubt or, to express it more forcefully, I doubt therefore I believe. Doubt as skepticism that is dubious of the strange, the new… not so much. Doubt as cynicism that is fundamentally distrustful of the motives and goals of others… not so much. Give me doubt that entices me beyond the narrow limits of my truth, my understanding, and my conclusions to something mysterious and wonder-full. Something like resurrection life.