When I was about ten or twelve, chain letters were popular. I would get one from a friend, handwritten of course, that would go something like this: “Dear Gabrielle, this chain letter has been going for forty years, and has been around the world thirty three times”. At the bottom of the letter was a list of four names and addresses. “You can be part of the chain: send a postcard to the first person on the list, remove that name and then put your name and address at the bottom. Send this letter to three of your friends. In a month, you will have receive forty postcards from around the world. This will bring you good luck! Breaking the chain will lead to misfortune. Sincerely, ……”
Well, I had no money to spend on postcards and stamps, so I had to show the letter to my mother and ask for her help. She was a practical person, and she would have none of this. She would say “Don’t be silly, you’re not spending money on this. Who knows who these people are! This is a waste of time, and good luck doesn’t come from sending letters.” And I would have to abandon any hopes of forty postcards from exotic places, and then worry about what misfortune was ahead for me. I never told any of my friends that I had broken the chain, but wondered if they knew….
Today, we have the beginnings of a chain of faith that has gone around the world for two thousand years. The reading from the Gospel of John describes the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. This gospel is so different from the other three: It is full of images, poetry and passion; the language is majestic and mystical.
In this passage, the evangelist John sets out to give us a testimony, a witness, to what he knows of Jesus Christ.
He tells the story through the eyes of John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, who has been going around small towns and villages, calling people to repentance, to change their ways, as he baptises and cleanses both body and soul. He knows, from the beginning of his ministry, that his call in life is to prepare the way for the one who will come as the Messiah, the saviour.
At first, he is not sure who this is, but in a dramatic moment he describes the vision of a dove, and knows that whomever the Spirit descends upon, will be the Son of God. Jesus appears, and suddenly, John realizes that his is the One they have been waiting for. This is the Lamb of God, the holy one. Jesus comes onto the scene, and everything changes. John knows that he has to step aside, to yield to Jesus, to surrender his influence with the followers he had already gathered.
Jesus steals the disciples away from John the Baptist. First, Andrew defects and calls his brother, Simon. In the next passage, Philip joins the group and encourages Nathaniel. And so it goes on. John is left standing in the river with his fingers getting wrinkled, while his cousin walks off with his friends. And John takes all of this with grace. He hasn’t got a selfish bone in his body. He accepts his role in this great adventure with a sense of humility and wisdom. With patience and persistence, he carries out his call. He will bring light to people’s souls, and proclaim salvation, not on his own behalf, but through the life and work of Jesus, always yielding to the one who was greater.
I wonder what would have happened if Andrew had gone home to get his older brother Simon, and their mother said: “Don’t be silly, you’re not going anywhere. Who knows what that Jesus is up to! I hear he’s a troublemaker. The only place you’re going is into the yard to milk the goat!” But she didn’t say that, and the story goes on. The passage continues, as we are drawn into the scene, the conversation, the questioning, the call to discipleship. Jesus asks: “What are you looking for?” and it challenges us to think about what we are looking for in our own faith journey. What is it we want from God? What is it we expect of ourselves, our church, and then, maybe, what is God looking for, in us? When you ask a group of people why they come to church, so often the most frequent response is “I come for the people.” We come for companionship, for sharing of mutual concerns, for the warmth of friends gathered around us. Maybe that’s not the answer the minister wants to hear, but it is a reality in a world that has isolated so many from loving contact with family, from a sense of security, from a time and place where we can express ourselves and feel safe and affirmed.
So –“I come for the people..” And that may include the time after the service, when we share coffee and tea, muffins and other snacks, and just get to be together as community. There are people for whom this is the only time that they interact with others in an otherwise lonely life. The second response that people give is “I come for the sermon.” They want a message that inspires, hopefully challenges them to grow in faith. They are looking for something meaningful to get them through the next week, something uplifting, a sense of purpose that helps to make sense of a world gone mad. Rarely does anyone say “I came to find Jesus Christ.”, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t looking for him, too. Another answer is “I am here because I need comfort in my troubles. Sometimes, we hit the nail on the head, and even without knowing it, we supply that need. A welcome at the door, a handshake or hug during the passing of the peace, a prayer that resonates.
What are you looking for: today, and in the rest of your life? What do we want from God and one another, as we join in celebrating our faith? And how can we fill God’s needs, for a world of peace, harmony and justice? Not later, but now, not for our personal salvation, but for the world, so that the Kingdom of God will come closer. I came across a quote from Albert Schweitzer (I don’t have the full reference) that I think says it best: “He comes to us as one unknown, without a name as of old by the lakeside. He came to those who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same words, “Follow thou me!”, and set us to the tasks which He has to fulfill for our time. He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and , as an ineffable mystery’ they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.” The disciples ask Jesus: “Where are you staying?” and at first we take this to mean, “what household in the village is putting you up for the night?” And we would be right. But we can think of this question in other ways. Where does Jesus stay, in this world? Where is he active in our hearts, our homes, our lives? Where can we always find him, and trust him to be?
And as I played with this question, I thought: maybe we should ask this of ourselves. Where are we staying? Where is our home, our spiritual home? And where do we stay, because we are afraid to move, afraid to change, afraid to grow? Where are we stuck in our ideas, so that we can’t listen to other people, or entertain other points of view? Jesus didn’t stay long in any one place. He moved around, travelling with few possessions, depending on others for shelter, going into unknown situations, carrying the light of God into dark corners. And he expected the disciples to join him and bring that light to others too. We can’t stay rooted to one place in our hearts. Even if we live our whole lives in Surrey, or Langley, or whatever, our faith can’t stand still. It has to move with the times, gathering others in the chain message of eternal life that is offered to us. Where are you staying? And where do you want to be in this new year? You don’t have to move your home, just your heart.
Finally, Jesus gives an answer to all our wondering. “Come and See.” Expose yourselves to new insights, and new ways of living in the world. Come and see what Jesus has in store for you. Bring a friend. Open your hearts to this invitation, and share with others. A minister once began a sermon by saying “Who wants to be an evangelist? Raise your hands.” And of course, no one did. Our modern idea of evangelists and evangelism is the people who press Jesus on you “Are you saved? Have you accepted Jesus as your personal saviour? You know what will happen if you don’t get on my bandwagon? Do you want to go to Hell? I’ve got the only answer, and bad things will happen if you don’t agree with me.” Well, that’s kind of like the chain letter. Join my club, or misfortune will occur. It frightens us, it offends us, and we want to turn off. I don’t like to be threatened, and I think my mother saw that in those chain letters.
That’s not what evangelism is. It is sharing your witness, so that others can make the decision to come along and be part of the chain of faith. There’s no threat in this story, there is a deep-rooted confidence that this new way of looking at life proclaimed by Jesus, and encouraged by John the Baptist, will usher in a better world. A world of peace, security, harmony and justice. A world of understanding, compassion and love. The world that God intended at the beginning of creation. You don’t have to do all of this today. You don’t have to answer the questions right now. You just need to think about it, to open yourselves to possibilities, to Come and See, and answer the invitation. To enjoy the testimony, of John, of others around you. Share your stories, and become one of the links in the remarkable and blessed chain of faith. Because the world needs all of us to join together and share our strengths.
With deep humility, I remember that I have been called, I have been blessed, like so many others, to rejoice in the ordinary life I lead, to celebrate the faith and belief that came to me as a gift from God. It is a call to follow when life is comfortable, but also when life is difficult and confusing and painful. In joy and sorrow, in toil and ease, God is with us, the path is clear and burdens that we share together become moments of grace. I want to close with a quote that is very special to me. It is from Mary Pennington, a seventeenth century Quaker, who kept a diary of her joys and troubles, her strength and weaknesses, her journey in faith.
In 1672 she wrote: “And he hath many times refreshed my soul in his presence and given me assurance that I knew that estate in which he will never leave me, nor suffer me to be drawn from all which he hath graciously fulfilled, for though various infirmities beset me, yet my heart cleaveth unto the Lord in the everlasting bonds that can never be broken.
May you find in your own journey an everlasting bond with the Lord that can never be broken. Amen