photo credit: EPO |
On a steep hill, high above
the city of Rio de Janeiro stands a gigantic statue of Jesus Christ. I’ve never
seen it in person, but like most of you I’ve seen countless photos of it. It’s
a famous world landmark. Officially it’s called “Christ the Redeemer,” and I
find it really quite breathtaking: he stands tall and straight, looming above
the city with his arms completely outstretched. This week, it was in the news
that lightning struck the statue right on the tip of the right hand, causing a
whole finger of the concrete and sandstone Jesus to fall off. Apparently It’s
not the first time lightning has struck Christ the Redeemer. In fact, it’s
happened so many times they’ve installed lightning rods around him, but this is
the first time the damage has been this significant. No worries: they’re going
to be able to re-attach his finger. What is cool, however, is that the
lightning strike itself was caught on camera—right at the moment where the big
bolt of white is zigging down from the sky to touch Jesus, almost like he’s
drawing it to himself— as if to remind us, once again, of his power.
It’s a fascinating image and
moment, and one that fits perfectly from these scenes of the beginning of
Jesus’ ministry as he walks along the coastlines of Galilee and draws people
toward him like he’s got some kind of electrical pull. We see him make his way
through ordinary people’s lives, reminding people that God is powerful and on
the move—he’s a roaming, roving Christ the Redeemer with that trademark wide
embrace, reaching out and calling all people.
John the Baptist bearing witness, Annebale Carracia |
This same scene—that is, Jesus’
moving about and calling folks to follow him—occurs in every gospel, but in the
gospel of John, it’s especially clear that Jesus’ ministry actually begins with
John the Baptist. Jesus’ ministry and work on the stage of human history effectively
starts when John, a popular but boisterous prophet who was a type of forerunner
to Jesus loudly and points him out. Before Jesus has said or done anything in
John’s gospel, John the Baptist has already started talking about him and
telling those around him what Jesus is about.
That’s interesting, if you
ask me: that before Jesus is noticed, even as he goes about in the towns and
villages, someone else calls
attention to him, someone else testifies
to his presence and his identity. It’s what a prophet does, just as redeeming with
outstretched arms is what a Savior does.
More importantly, notice that
John the Baptist doesn’t mince words, doesn’t hem and haw when it comes to
explaining who Jesus is and why he matters. Right off the bat John tells us
four key things about him: Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of
the world. Jesus somehow existed before John even though John seems to come
first in timeline of history. Jesus brings the Holy Spirit, and Jesus is the
Son of God. Bam! Kind of like a lightning strike! He leaves no doubt about who this
Jesus is. This introduction and explanation of Jesus takes place over the
course of two or three days. First John the Baptist is questioned as to whether
he might be the Messiah. Instead, at his first opportunity, John finds Jesus
and points to him. “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” he cries out, as if to urge
his own disciples to leave and follow the Lord. Many old paintings depict John
the Baptist with an elongated pointer finger because of how clearly he points
and says, “Look!”
detail from "The Crucifixion" by Matthias Gruenewald (1512-1516) |
Incidentally, the things John
says happen to be some of the biggest issues of theology that the early church
struggled to understand and communicate about Jesus. For example, it was
critical very early on to explain that Jesus’ death somehow dealt with the
world’s brokenness and estrangement from God, that his life of suffering and
then his sacrificial death would save the world and set it free. His
inseparable relationship with the very Spirit of God, which brought life to
creation at the beginning of time and inspired the prophets, was another aspect
of his identity that was important to point out. John also wants to make it
clear that Jesus is not just another prophet, like himself. He is the very Son
of God. As such, Jesus will be revealing parts of God’s nature that no one has
ever before glimpsed. That’s a lot of information about Christ to cram in the
first two days. For what it’s worth, John the Baptist’s claims about Jesus seem
to get the job done. We are told John’s disciples leave him and begin following
Jesus.
When the attention and action
does finally shift from John to Jesus, however, things change rather abruptly. We
go immediately from clear, definitive pronouncements to a very open and inquisitive
approach to ministry. When John’s disciples begin following Jesus, he turns and
asks them a fairly non-confrontational question, “What are you looking for?” or
“What do you want?” When they say they want to know where he is staying, he
invites them, drawing them in, “Come and see.” As it turns out, they not only
take him up on the offer, but they stay throughout the whole day, even though
it’s already late. Our translation says 4 o’clock in the afternoon. In the
Greek it says, the tenth hour. The point is that they linger longer than one
might expect. I imagine he spends time getting to know them, asking them
questions, engaging them in dialogue. The impression they get is so favorable, so
captivating, that they respond by bringing others to see him.
Jesus calls the first disciples |
There is an important lesson
for the church, for followers of Christ, in these first chapters where Christ
is being made known and starting things off. On the one hand, we need to be
like John the Baptist, clear and consistent about who Jesus is and why he
matters. On the other hand, we need to be open and inviting and focused on
relationship-building when we’re engaged in the ministries of Jesus. When it
comes to talking and teaching about Christ, the Lamb of God, clarity and
boldness is helpful for everyone. When we vacillate in our message or get
wishy-washy in the task of pointing to him, the mission of his movement
suffers. This is why I’m encouraged by some of what our new presiding bishop,
Elizabeth Eaton, has been saying. She wrote recently in The Lutheran, “If our life together
consists primarily of being affirmed by God’s unconditional love and doing
works of justice and charity without understanding that God has brought about
the transformation of justified sinners through the costly grace of the
crucified Christ, then we are not church.”[1]
However, when it comes to actually
serving as Christ does and sharing that ministry with others, it is always better
when we follow Jesus’ example and give things time, engage them in dialogue. Find out what people are looking for, what
they want, what their lives are in search of rather than quickly shoving down
their throats what we think they need. Judgmentalism and abruptness will not
serve us well. Like Jesus, we need to show patience. Demonstrate compassion and
hospitality. Realize this might involve staying until the 10th hour
with them, all the while providing an opening for the patience, compassion and
hospitality he always shows us.
Slow as it may seem, Jesus
shows us there is, in fact, electricity in this approach. Andrew and the other
unnamed disciple are drawn in. Andrew then responds by going and getting his
brother, Peter, who will go on to be a leader in the early church. It is still
how the communion of Christ’s believers grows most effectively today, and how
solid relationships of love and trust are built among God’s people. It’s why I
tell people to visit a congregation at least four times before they decide you
want to look elsewhere. This is why even things like short-term mission trips, as
good as they are for getting us out of our comfort zones and providing service
to communities that need it, can still be problematic. These kinds of
interactions can come across as too abrupt and judgmental to those being
served, unless great sensitivity is demonstrated.
I am thankful to say that, by
and large, this kind of sensitivity and care is what we witnessed this past
summer in the community we served in West Virginia. After the first couple of
days of working in a day-camp like setting with the neighborhood kids, both our
youth and I started to wonder what the point of the interaction was. Many of
them wanted to be assigned other tasks of service, like building something or
moving equipment. But, to give them credit, they stuck with it and got to form
some relationships with them. Once some more meaningful dialogue started to
occur between them and us—between the serving and the served—our youth began to
witness some form of change in respect and interest level. The awkwardness of
the first day’s “hellos” was replaced by outstretched arms giving hugs and
wiping away tears when we left.
A church that can extend
those arms of “Come and see” and a church that can, like John the Baptist, be
clear about the person those arms are attached to, will be like a church who
can stand atop a hill and let the storms of the world rage around us. We may
lose a finger here or there, but God can re-attach it. Most importantly,
though, we will be seen as a people who know the Redeemer of the world is in
our midst, a people pointing to Jesus, the Lamb of God, whose arms are not just
extended to call us to follow, but to suffer and die for us and take away the
sin of the world. “Look!” the world will say, because it will be clear in our
words and actions that God loves the world. It will be clear by the power of
the Holy Spirit that this movement he has begun is still charged with that same
merciful electricity.
Thanks be to God!
The Reverend Phillip W. Martin, Jr.