We Would See Jesus
John 12:20-33
March 17, 2024
Emmanuel Baptist Church; Rev. Kathy Donley
Note: A recording of the worship service in which this sermon was preached may be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3bU1vJS-yQ
There’s a cardinal rule of story-telling. This rule also applies to mime and to preaching, probably to all kinds of public speaking and performance. The basic rule is that you close every door you open. You finish the story. You don’t leave the audience hanging on an incomplete detail. If you open a door, you close it. If you say “I’m going to tell you three things” and then you only provide two, you have broken the rule.
The author of John’s gospel breaks that simple rule and it has been bugging me all week. John introduces some nameless characters. He calls them Greeks, which is to say that they are not Jewish like the rest of Jesus’ disciples. They are outsiders. This incident happens just after Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on what we now call Palm Sunday. That created a spectacle that led the authorities to throw up their hands and say “There’s nothing we can do. Look, the whole world has gone after him.” These Greeks are part of the world that seems to be clamoring after Jesus.
These unknown strangers find Philip and tell him that they wish to see Jesus. Like almost everything in John’s gospel, this has two meanings. It means that they want an introduction. It can also mean that they want to become disciples. Philip is one of the disciples with a Greek name which might be why the strangers seek him out. So, they ask to see Jesus, but Philip does not take them directly to him. Instead, he goes to consult his brother Andrew. And then, Philip and Andrew go together to Jesus. That’s where John leaves us hanging. He never says whether these Greek guys get to meet Jesus or not.
Maybe Philip and Andrew are suspicious of these strangers. What if they just want backstage passes to Jesus’ donkey show, or worse, what if they are spies sent by the authorities. Maybe there’s a language barrier. Maybe they’re tired of sharing Jesus with the crowd. Or maybe, even though John doesn’t say so, they do bring the strangers with them and the Greeks are standing right there with everyone else when Jesus makes his next speech.
If they are there, what an introduction! There’s no small talk, no social niceties. No “Good to meet you, where are you from?” Jesus just launches into a life and death conversation. He’s talking about his own imminent death, but he’s just cryptic enough that the newcomers might not follow. This could be one more reason that the Philip and Andrew hesitated, because they know that Jesus is likely to say stuff like this and scare people off.
There was not a single one of Jesus’ disciples, friends, or family who wanted to see Jesus crucified.
Jesus keeps saying it is going to happen and they keep resisting it. Theirs is a visceral, immediate, bodily response. Maybe it is similar to the kind of reaction a person has when facing a difficult surgery or being told they need to undergo a painful procedure in order to get a diagnosis. Is the pain worth the gain? Is there really no other way? Are they willing to risk their life in order to save it?
“We wish to see Jesus” the strangers say. Those of us who have been inside the church for a long time don’t understand how hard this is. We don’t appreciate the incredible effort that it takes for someone to enter a church space looking for Jesus. There are a few people among us who have done that here in the last few years. They have screwed up their courage and crossed the threshold into this insider space where they didn’t know the roles, didn’t know a soul. Perhaps they were risking their life to save it, and Emmanuel is richer for it.
“We wish to see Jesus” is inscribed on pulpits all over the world. Not out front for all the worshippers, but back here where just the preacher sees it. No pressure, preacher, but show us Jesus. No pressure, but this is not about you. No pressure, but remember what we’re here for.
Sometimes, preachers need the reminder. Because sometimes preachers just want to preach our favorite easy stories. Sometimes we want to proclaim the safe stuff that we know everyone already agrees with.
And sometimes, congregations need the reminder that the reason we come together, again and again, is to see Jesus, to be formed and reformed. We often want to see the peacemaker Jesus, to know the healer Jesus, but in this case, it is Jesus the disrupter, Jesus the change-agent, Jesus the trouble-maker who demands to be heard.
What happens next is life and death. What happens next will change everything for those who identify as Jesus’ disciples. As he is crucified, their physical lives will be in danger. They may be found guilty by association. Rome will have no qualms about executing a few more rebels.
After the resurrection, their entire world will be transformed. They upend their routines. They re-orient their lives and those of family and friends, subverting everyone’s expectations.
They abandon their livelihoods. After this they are no longer fishermen or tax collectors, but church leaders, wandering evangelists, non-profit service providers who make sure that widows and orphans get fed.
After this their religious world changes. They used to worship on the Sabbath and maybe make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the big festivals when they could afford it. But after resurrection, they will worship on the seventh day and the first day. Instead of being ordinary people in the center of their mainline religion, they will become leaders of an unauthorized minority operating on the fringes.
If you want to live, really live, sometimes you have to learn to give your life away. That is what Jesus is saying when he talks about a grain of wheat dying. If you want to live, really live, sometimes you have to learn to give your life away.
No one wants to hear that. No disciple or friend or family member wanted Jesus to be crucified. They resist it, refuse to think about it, fight against it with everything they have. Even when it is happening, when the guards come to arrest Jesus in the garden, Peter draws a sword to fight back.
And we’re not so very different on this side of history, are we? We’d like to change the subject. Don’t talk to us about death, Jesus. Don’t require us to change. You already did that for us, remember? You died so that we could have eternal life. That’s the safe, feel-good gospel. Let’s focus on that. No more talk about following you to the cross, please.
The incomparable Barbara Brown Taylor says “it is hard to preach the gospel to people who are scared to death of dying.” [1]
Jesus was talking life and death.
And I’m still wondering if the Greeks ever got to Jesus. I’m still wondering if Philip and Andrew were so caught up in managing expectations and softening the blow and resisting the coming change that they never even risked the introduction.
If you want to live, really live, sometimes you have to learn to give your life away.
[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Learning to Fall” in Always a Guest: Speaking on Faith Far From Home, (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2020), p. 215