Shalom Mennonite Church
Sunday, May 22, 2011 - Easter 5
Text: John 14:1-14
“many dwelling places”
I thought it best to go ahead and prepare
a sermon for today, just in case the
apocalyptic prognosticators got it wrong.
Which they did -
again.
Here we are.
Here is the world.
And together we live on.
Thanks be to God!
Visions of the end times are
as old as humanity itself.
For as long as we have wondered about life,
we have wondered what will happen after death.
Is there reward for our goodness?
Is there punishment for our waywardness?
Is there . . . anything?
Think of all of the jokes we tell
about death, the afterlife, and people who stand
at the “pearly gates” talking to St. Peter.
I don’t remember many jokes,
but one I remember tells of a fellow who has died
and made his way to the pearly gates
and, much to his relief, has found
admittance into heaven.
He is welcomed in by an angelic tour guide
who begins to show him all of the perks
and pleasures of dwelling in eternal bliss and harmony.
There are choirs singing,
children and adults at play,
there are people lounging
in lush green grass with lions and lambs,
the streets glow golden,
the waters run clear,
and the sky is a perennial, crystalline blue.
As they walk down one street
the recently deceased fellow hears
a wonderful choir singing in perfect harmony.
The music comes from a simple
but beautiful stone building
that stands off on its own in a field.
It is different from the other heavenly structures
because it has no open windows
and no apparent doorways.
Somehow the beautiful sound of the choir
manages to escape from the building
even though there seems to be no way in or out.
“Who is in there?” the newcomer asks.
The angel guide replies:
“Oh, those are the Mennonites.
They think they are the only ones here.”
I’ve heard my Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, Episcopalian
friends tell a similar sort of joke on themselves.
What makes the joke funny
is the element of truth in it.
It puts a finger on the prideful, sometimes arrogant way
we hold our deepest beliefs and convictions.
This, too, is part of the human story.
“In my father’s house there are many dwelling places,”
says Jesus in this morning’s passage.
This has often been interpreted as a statement
about the afterlife and the realm of heaven.
I have heard this passage read at funerals
and memorial services, and I have heard
eulogies and funeral sermons that draw
on this imagery as a word of comfort for
those who are grieving in death.
The message being:
there is room enough in heaven
for all of God’s faithful ones.
If we look closely at this story, however,
we will see that it is not so much about death
and what happens in the afterlife,
as it is about life here and now.
The disciples in this moment are not so much
concerned about where they will go when they die;
they are concerned about
where they will go,
what they will do,
who they will follow,
now that Jesus has died.
Their “hearts are troubled” not because
they are fretting over the afterlife
but because they are wondering
which way to go in this life.
“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”
The reference to the “Father’s house”
is not simply a synonym for heaven.
We are meant to hear this message in the context
of this gospel of John in which the language
of place, location, and residence
is often used to signify something about relationship. (O'Day, p.740)
John often uses the language of
“abiding” and “dwelling” in his writing about Jesus.
He uses these words not so much to describe
a particular location as much as he does
to describe the particular shape of relationship
Jesus shares with God and that
we share with God.
To know where Jesus “abides” or “dwells”
is to discover the intimacy of his relationship with God.
And it is to discover something about the nature
of our relationship with God.
“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”
Jesus is reiterating what has been his message
to the disciples all along:
There are many ways and places to abide with God,
to dwell with God, in this world.
You do not need to be fearful, Jesus tells them.
You will know the way to where I am going
because you have known me.
And therefore you know
what it means to be part of God’s
household. You will not be lost or forgotten.
You abide where I abide,
in the very heart of the God of Love.
This message of assurance and presence
is at the heart of this passage.
And when we understand that, then I think
we hear the rest of this passage differently
than it is sometimes interpreted.
When Thomas gives voice to his
lingering fears and confusion,
Jesus responds with one of his most
widely quoted - and arguably most misused - statements:
“I am the way and the truth and the life,
no one comes to the Father except through me.”
How often have these words been taken out of context.
The context here is Jesus speaking
a word of assurance to his closest friends.
However, the church in various guises
has assumed this to be a universal message to the world,
a message of Christian triumphalism and supremacy,
with the essential message being:
There is no other faithful path than the Christian path.
All others are left on the outside of God’s favor.
It is put even more bluntly by a billboard
that stands along one of our local highways:
Repent and believe in Jesus Christ . . .
or regret it forever!
Dwelling behind such statements
is a rather fierce and fickle God,
and a a very exclusive sort of Jesus,
both of whom do not ring true
with what we find revealed through the gospels.
Yet many in the church,
have clung to this exclusivist claim on God’s favor.
Rob Bell, the widely known Christian author
and pastor of Mars Hill bible church,
recently published a book entitled,
Love Wins: A book about heaven, hell, and the fate of every person who ever lived.
Quite a title!
The book has landed him in hot water with
many North American Christians because
he claims that in the end, love and mercy
trump judgment and vengeance.
In the end, God’s love will reconcile all things
and all people to God’s self.
Bell challenges the exclusivist claims of a Christianity
that cannot hold alongside its deep convictions
all that remains unanswerable and incomprehensible.
As another contemporary author, Marilynne Robinson put it,
“There is something about certainty that makes
Christianity very un-Christian.”
Bell is being called many things by others in the church:
a heretic, unfaithful, and a universalist.
Those who try to dismiss him in this way
miss the fact that he arrives at this viewpoint
not because he has tried and practiced
a myriad of other faiths and found them true
but precisely because he has rooted himself in Christ
and it has transformed how he sees the world. (Marty, p.25)
The world needs less, not more, people who
claim titles like “chosen people” or “royal priesthood”
over and against their sisters and brothers.
The world, I believe, cries out for followers of Jesus
who are clearly grounded and rooted in Christ’s way,
who are not afraid to say this is
“the way, the truth and the life” that shapes my life,
and who recognize that at the center of that
Way is an eternal spring of merciful Love,
a God who is seeking to reconcile all things
to Godself and not necessarily under the heading “Christianity.”
“In God’s house there are many abiding places . . .
I am the way the truth and the life,
no one comes to God except through me.”
There is a tension in these words of scripture.
We might be tempted to resolve it by either
assuming Jesus was making an exclusive claim
about himself to the whole world,
or, we might focus on the
“many places” element and say that really
all ways are okay as long as we don’t step on toes
or ruffle each other’s feathers.
At one extreme the church festers in exclusivist certainty,
and at the other end of the spectrum is a Christianity
diluted into a secular relativism that
has a difficult time witnessing with faithful conviction.
I think, as Christians, we are asked to stay in the tension.
It is a tension that found voice at our Coordinating Council
meeting a week ago here at Shalom.
We found ourselves at one point
celebrating the way we seem able in this church
to stay in community with one another
in the midst of some significant differences -
we have recognized and allowed room here
to witness that there are indeed “many ways
and places in which one can dwell with God.”
In our discussion we also named what a challenge
it can be to also act as a community with conviction,
to state together - maybe not with one mind,
but at least with a unified voice and witness:
“this is where we stand,
this is the faith we bear witness to with our lives,
we live this way because we live in Christ
who has shown us the way of life lived in love.
Therefore, this is who we are called to be.”
How do we celebrate different expressions of faith
and also root ourselves in the unity of Christ Jesus
in a way that we can bear witness in the world
to the love of Christ?
The challenge for the church today, I believe,
is to do just that. To root ourselves -
to choose to abide and dwell -
in the way, the truth and the life of Christ,
and in so doing to find there in the end
a dwelling place with many rooms.
We do not need other ways to be wrong
for the Way of Christ to be right.
We do not need other faiths to be false
for our faith in Christ to be true.
We do not need to try to be all things to all people
in order to root ourselves in the love
that in the end reconciles all things and all people.
The most vital questions for us today are not,
When will the world end?
or
What happens in the afterlife?
The vital question of faith standing before us
here and now in this moment
is the same as it was for the disciples long ago:
Will we get the great joke of God's love
that has been told in the life, death and resurrection of Christ?
Will we get it
and tell it with our lives?
__________
Sources:
Marty, Peter. "Betting on a generous God," The Christian Century, May 17, 2011.
O'Day, Gail R. "The Gospel of John," The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. IX. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995.
No comments:
Post a Comment