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15 January 2012
1 Samuel 3:1-20 Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18 1 Corinthians 6:12-20 John 1:43-51
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Every now and then someone asks me how I decide what readings people will hear on Sunday. The answer is, I don’t. (If I did, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen the Corinthians reading. Ugh.) In traditions, such as ours, that observe the calendar of the liturgical year, there is something called The Revised Common Lectionary. The Lectionary comprises a three-year cycle of readings that give us a broad sampling from the Hebrew Scriptures, from the Epistles – or church letters – of the New Testament, and the from the four Gospels. In the first year of the cycle, the majority of the Gospel readings come from St. Matthew. The second year – that began a little over six weeks ago – is the year when we hear from St. Mark, and in the third year the readings are taken from St. Luke. That leaves the Gospel according to St. John – readings from this fourth gospel are interspersed in the readings of all three years. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are called the “synoptic” gospels – synoptic meaning “with the same view” because they tend to be fairly similar to one another in plot and language. Then there’s John’s gospel – a very different sort of gospel and in nearly every sense of the word, different.
An example: Last week we delved a bit into the Baptism of Jesus as told by Matthew – and there as in the other two synoptic Gospels – Jesus gets wet, Jesus gets baptized by John the Baptizer. But not in St. John’s gospel. Here instead, the Baptizer, when he sees Jesus walking by, points and says: “Look, see, here is the Lamb of God.” And it is to John’s Gospel we’ll take a look-see in a little bit.
Let’s first look at the reading from the prophet Samuel; we’re told a story about how God came to the boy Samuel who was dwelling in the temple as a sort of intern to Eli the high priest. A voice three times calls out, “Samuel, Samuel!” We are told that it is God’s own self who is calling the young boy and by name. But Samuel doesn’t see the Lord – not even the last time – the time he answers the voice. Nor does anyone in the Hebrew Scriptures ever see God. God is hidden in clouds, in fire, in wind and it is a virtual article of faith in the Hebrew Scriptures that because we are by nature unjust, self-centered beings who are consumed with wanting to be Number One – because we are sinful – anyone who looks upon God, who sees God, shall surely die. To see the face of God is not something to be desired, but something deeply to be feared and dreaded. But then along comes St. John the Evangelist and does his different routine; in his telling of the God-story, time after time, we along with all the characters in John’s narrative, are urged, almost commanded, to look and to see the One who is God made flesh, made manifest, made visible. But then won’t we surely die? Well, someone’s going to die in John’s Gospel, that’s for sure.
But let’s go back to the Samuel story. Once Samuel understands that the voice calling him is not Eli, but that of the Lord, Samuel replies, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Now our word obey is derived from the Latin word obedire – which means to be still and to shut up and listen. Samuel obeys the Lord’s call; instead of running to Eli when the voice calls out the third time, instead of arguing with the voice, or asking for an I.D. card from the voice, Samuel stays still and listens.
Compare that to the story in John’s Gospel this morning of Nathanael being called to “Come and see.” Now granted, the summons given comes first not directly from God, but is mediated by Philip. Nonetheless, it does concern the Messiah of God, and Nathanael’s response to the call to come and see the one promised by the Law and the Prophets, God’s anointed, Jesus of Nazareth is not exactly enthusiastic: “Hah! Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Spoken like a true smart-ass. Not very obedient of Nathanael, most assuredly not even close to the listening attitude of Samuel. So what’s going to happen to Nathanael? One would reasonably expect him to get zapped for such disobedience, smacked around by the Lord God Almighty.
But before we go any further with that thought, let’s check back with Samuel. Once God gets Samuel’s attention, obedient, listening, non-smart-mouthing Samuel hears from God a promise – which is what almost always happens when God speaks. But the promise spoken by the God of the prophets is . . . usually mixed, at best. And so God promises Samuel that God will punish Eli and his descendants – forever – because Eli’s sons have committed blasphemy – have spoken ill of God – and God promises that this sin will never be taken away, no, not ever. And yes, we do hear that the Lord sticks by Samuel and “let’s none of his words fall to the ground,” but that is what predominates in today’s story. What predominates instead is the scary God who’s about to wreak vengeance. Look upon God and die, speak ill of God and you and your descendants will suffer forever.
Back now to St. John’s Gospel – different in so many ways. Nathanael’s – we’ll call it disobedience – Nathanael’s mouthy disobedience, his blasphemy and skepticism is not met here in John’s story with the promise of perpetual punishment; rather, the Messiah, Son of God, Word of God made flesh, comes back at Nathanael with a great laugh line: “Well, well, an Israelite without guile; here we have someone who doesn’t hold back but says what he’s thinking.” And then, to top it all off, an unconditional promise of grace – no, “if you do this, I’ll do that,” but only an astonishing promise: “You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Messiah of God.” Period. No qualifiers. No ifs. No buts.
And those same sort of differences continue throughout John’s telling of the story – often called the Book of Signs, of visible words. In John’s telling of the Story, God is made visible through signs, through tangible things, so that Jesus’ followers and all of us listening-in shall look and see God as God is: in the world, not to condemn the world, but to make the world whole, that there be life abundant, that all have the life of the ages, that all know God now as a God of love and peace. Look at Jesus and see the loving heart of God. But still there will be a death – but this time not the death of those who see God, but the death of very God from very God – but even there, the glory of the God made visible – glory, because in the face of all of humanity’s hatred for that which is good and kind and gentle – not God on a throne of gold striking Eli and his sons dead, not God cursing forever those who blaspheme, not God wreaking vengeance, but God upon a rude and bloody wooden throne, preferring to suffer our sinful ways, rather than judge or condemn. And there, at the cross, heaven is fully opened that there, at least in John’s Gospel, we gaze upon the fullness of God and live.
Now, you who are in this place, like Samuel in the Temple – and like Nathanael beneath the fig tree – the fig tree being the place where the rabbis and their students would gather to study scripture – like Samuel and Nathanael, you, yourselves this day have been brought (and not by any of your imagined free will) to where the Lord speaks – so be quiet and listen – a promise from God – not like the one given to Samuel but like the one given to Nathanael in the very different Gospel of St. John: “Look – at this crucifix. And look at this altar. Here, the heavens opened and Christ’s very self come down for you. See – here is the Lamb of God who takes away, who forgives, all your sin, and the sin of the whole world. Look – and you will live now and in the life of the ages. And whether the reading is from Mark, or from John’s Book of Signs – here in this place, you will see God, time and again, coming with peace and love – for you.
And then won’t you be like Philip in John’s Gospel for today? Find the Nathanaels of the world, ignore their smart-ass comments and say instead, “Come, and see.”
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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