John 14:1-14
There is a longing in us that is as old as the Greek philosophers, who longed to get beyond the weight of matter, and live in the ideal realm of pure spirit. Many religions, and voices within perhaps all religions, teach that life with God can only be attained by being freed from the bonds of earth, from the pull of gravity, from the body. To be with God is to be in some other place, if not geographically, then in a spiritual trance, a state of pure ecstasy, an out-of-body experience where we will be closer to God, and farther from ourselves and this earth.
This seems to be where John, Chapter 14, is taking us: "Do not let your hearts be troubled," says Jesus. "Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also." To be with Jesus is to be somewhere other than where we are now. The promise Jesus made to the disciples -- and by extension, to us -- is that the relationship begun will not end. We cherish Jesus' words and the strong image of closeness -- "where I am, there you may be also."
At first glance, that seems to be where this text is taking us. But look more closely. Before you rise up to lose yourself, to let go of earth, to be freed from your downward pull of gravity and your own body, listen -- for Jesus has more to say. Chapter 14 is the beginning of Jesus' last conversation with His disciples, the farewell speech after they have shared the Passover meal. Jesus moves beyond the opening promise to say some rather startling things. Especially this, "Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father." Greater works than Jesus? How can that be? We want to rise above it all? We want faith to be about rising above the living room chair, above this tired and tempting body life? For many people - religion, or faith, or belief is the same as spirituality. They want to enter the pure life of the Spirit to be with the power of the Universe.
But Jesus is not talking only about heavenly doings here. Jesus is talking about earth. Soon he will give his followers a new Spirit and a new commandment. This new commandment would cause the disciples as much trouble as it causes us. "Love one another as I have loved you."
Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor who was hanged for his part in a plot to kill Hitler. In his book Costly Discipleship, he wrote about Christ's body, the church. "The body of Christ takes up space on the earth," he said -- as buildings take up space, also cars, dirt, flowers, rocks, skateboards and people. Then Bonhoeffer goes on, "A truth, a doctrine, or a religion needs no space for themselves. They are disembodied entities...that is all. But the incarnate Christ, God become human, needs not only ears or hearts, but living people who will follow him." The body of Christ takes up space on the earth. This is more than a spiritual metaphor; it is bodily reality.
Of course this is the reason we are often so dissatisfied with the church: if the church didn't take up space. If it were spiritual instead of earthy, we could do those things Jesus promised the disciples long ago. Those of us who call ourselves Christians are people who know we are not what Jesus called us to be. We spend too much and share too little; we judge too many and love too few; we wait too long and act too late. People say to me "Show me a church where hypocrisy has been purged away; where love is genuine, and I'll become a member. And I say no such a church takes up space on this earth.
In her book Holy the Firm, Annie Dillard writes about such yearnings. She says we tend to get romantic about people in the Bible -- prophets and publicans, tax collectors and disciples.
...as though, of course, God should be revealed, if at all, to those people from the Sunday School leaflets. They were simple and faithful, while we now are complex and full of doubt. We are busy. Yet if we look at history honestly, we see so were they.
Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in God's holy space? There is no one but us. There is no one to send, not a clean hand, or a pure heart on the face of the earth...but only us, a generation comforting ourselves with the notion that we have come at an awkward time. All our innocent ancestors are dead and our children are busy and troubled, and we ourselves are unfit, not yet ready, each of us having made bad choices, false starts, failed, yielded to pressure, and grown exhausted. But there is no one but us. There never has been. The twelve disciples are gone and heaven is not yet here.
I suppose what God really wants us to download from this section of Scripture is Jesus' promise about the dwelling places in God's house, about a future with God which we cannot see. And secondly, and just as important, is --do I, do you, also trust the promise that the Spirit has come now to this earth? Do we know that the Spirit can lift us up and give our lives meaning and power to do things we would never otherwise do, so that God’s love is shared through us.
Over the years of my ministry I have known many people who were survivors of trauma. Poverty, homelessness, domestic abuse, bankruptcy, addiction, mental illness, and disability. I have seen the power of God to redeem and restore what has been broken, and this power has most often come in human form. Christians are not the only people who will be known by their good deeds – lots of people do good and wonderful deeds. We are simply people who know that it is not our good deeds which give us worth, but God’s love seen in us. Here and there a glimpse, now and then, a smile whose glow touches a hurting heart.
A woman I’ll call Helen grew up in a house that was not a safe place, but a site of terror and abuse. She left that house, eventually ending up on the streets and dulling her pain with alcohol and drugs. Strung out, broken down, and homeless, Helen decided to get clean and start over, but she had no one to take her in. She got a referral to a rehab house called "Olive Branch." She knocked on the door one morning, and one of the residents opened it. "What are you doing here?" the resident demanded. Reflecting that community's no-nonsense approach to recovery.
The first Sunday she was sober, she thought about the church she had been taken to as a child. It wasn’t far, but it held as many bad memories as good. The second Sunday she said to God if you want me to go down to that church then help me to walk in the front door. In this church there was a woman named Nelli who had done the babysitting when Helen was a child. When Helen walked in she saw Nelli. Nelli didn’t remember her, but remembered her family. Nelli knew some of the horrible things that had gone on in that family. Complete the rehab program Nelli said, and I’ll make sure you have a place to live for your first six months out. And she did. Living with Nelli – Helen learned so much, she shared Nelli’s heartaches, she learned everyone has them, even those who have lovely homes and successful children. At end of the six months we in that congregation, wondered who had been helped more.
When the world shows its ugliest side and evil raises up against evil and war rages throughout the world; many world religious traditions, including many Christians want to clasp their hands and say "Do not be troubled. Believe in God." And that is important to do. Give it up to God. In life or in death, there is God, we are not abandoned. Worry doesn’t accomplish anything.
But we will be left empty, if the peace we find in our God does not open those hands to others. Life’s meaning is found in the common work of letting others share our worries, and our comfort, our stresses and our peace …it is in the dangerous business of giving ourselves to serve others…that joy is found. God has called us to be instruments of love to people who need to experience love. And when we do this, however small, these acts of love are greater works than the miracles of Jesus. Amen.