Sermon for January 15, 2022 – The 2nd Sunday after Epiphany

Isaiah 49:1-7, Psalm 40:1-12 , 1 Corinthians 1:1-9, John 1:29-42

Last week we remembered and celebrated the baptism of Jesus. We heard this timeless story from Matthew’s perspective. Even though it was not a very detailed story, it gave us one lens through which we can enter more deeply into this pivotal story about identity and belonging, that begins Jesus’ public ministry.  While all of the baptism stories in the synoptic gospels contain common threads that connect them together, there is enough differentiation so as to give us multiple lenses from which to reflect upon this important event in the life of Jesus.

Today we briefly jump into the Fourth Gospel to experience Jesus’ baptism from yet another angle. In John’s narrative if you blink you will miss Jesus’ baptism because it functions in a different a way different from the other accounts of his baptism. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke the event confirms for us, the readers, who Jesus really is through water, doves, heavenly voices, and the Holy Spirit. In John’s Gospel, however, we are not witnesses to the baptism itself. We do not get the details of the event, except through John the Baptist’s personal experience.

The baptism becomes an incident of revelation to John alone, who in turn then bears witness to others and testifies to the gathered crowds what was revealed to him. This then becomes a pattern that is repeated throughout this Gospel; where people are seeking something from God, and then encounter Jesus, are transformed by that encounter, and then go off to testify to the world about that transformation.

The establishment of this pattern through John’s actions, is repeated just a few verses later with Jesus calling his first disciples and their response to this encounter. And it’s here that, not only do we finally hear Jesus speak in this gospel, but his first words to the disciples cuts to the very center of discipleship, both for them and for us.

In this Gospel, Jesus’ first words appear in the form of a question, an ordinary question with extraordinary significance: “What are you looking for?.” English translations obscure the meaning of the Greek, which is perhaps better translated, “What are you seeking?” Jesus’ ministry begins not with a mighty command to silence a demon, as in Mark. Nor does it begin with a sermon to the crowds who have gathered on a mountain, as in Matthew. And certainly not with a quotation read aloud in a crowded synagogue from a scroll of the prophet Isaiah to proclaim his anointing for the year of God’s favor, as in Luke. Instead, it begins with a question: “What are you seeking?” What are you looking for? What do you need? It is a question worth wrestling with -- as individuals, as a congregation -- since our answers will have a great deal to do with what we find, as well as, with the journey we take to get there. What are you seeking? What motivates you? What is it that you really need, not just on the surface, but deep down into the core of your being? What are you looking for?

In a culture dominated by the acquisition of things, for example, where a search for meaning can (supposedly) be satisfied by a search for “stuff,” the exchange of questions between Jesus and his would-be followers provides an opportunity to explore a variety of possible responses in different contexts today, as well as the answer that Jesus provides.

On more than one occasion I have so firmly believed in what I was seeking that I was completely unaware of just how far away the pursuit had taken me from God. As I have shared before, I have known that I wanted to be a priest, to live a life of prayer and service, for a longtime. I was seeking my place in the world. I was seeking a way to build and create a life for myself with God at the center. I believed I knew exactly how this would play out. The way forward to what I was seeking was crystal clear. Yet, as I kept seeking that sense of place and purpose, I kept following a path that was leading me further away from that goal, that hope, that desire of my heart. I kept following that path even as it spiraled further and further into darkness, still holding on tightly to this dream. I didn’t want to let go. I convinced myself that I was still on the right path, still had God at my center. I was only deceiving myself. It wasn’t until I was forced to let go of the dream that I was finally able to see where I was and how I got there.

You would think that I would have learned my lesson after a humbling experience like that, but because we are prone to wander, prone to leave the God we love, I once again found myself wandering in a wilderness. After arriving back home to my parents’ house, I started seeking treatment for my depressive disorder. While talk therapy and proper medication were working wonders, I still couldn’t let go of the pressing need to get back into school, to get back to my plan that would lead me towards ordained ministry. And so, I enrolled in one school in the Boston area, only to crash out again. Then I tried another school, and another school, and another school…all with the same results. At one point I was essentially a beach bum, staying at my best friend’s beach house while I “went to school.” I kept seeking my own path. I kept attempting to craft own identity. And time and again, I failed because I failed to allow God to lead me.

That is, until, I finally accepted that school was no longer a viable option, not least of all the money that had been wasted at each school, and was forced to get a job. I was desperate for anything that would provide health care coverage, so I ended up working as a driver for an auto parts company delivering parts to various shops around town. What was supposed to be just a temporary placement before getting back to school, turned into a five year journey with the company. I finally realized that when I let go and let God do what God does, I had found my place. I made friendships I still have today. I gained invaluable managerial experience. And the company even supported my desire to ultimately leave to company to continue my pursuit of ordained ministry when the time arrived. To work at that company was where God was calling me to in that moment. Was it what I wanted? No. Was it what I needed, to help me get to where both God and I desired to be? Absolutely.

So what?

Once again, I had to let go of my will and surrender to God. I had to ask myself that difficult question, what am I seeking and how did I get here? And we have to cut through the rationalizations and the rubbish we conjure in our minds to justify our actions in the world. We need to strip away our egos, our desires, our will, and ask that most ordinary of questions: what are you seeking? And it’s not just a searching, but what is that deep longing of your heart, what are you seeking?

What are you seeking from God? What are we seeking from each other as members of this faith community bound together by our love and mutual affection? When we are ready to ask these revealing questions we already have Jesus’ answer…come and see.

Indeed, this answer captures a primary message of John's Gospel: If you want to know the Word made flesh, come and see Jesus. If you want to know what love is like, come and see Jesus. If you want to experience God's glory, to be filled with bread that never perishes, to quench your thirst with living water, to be born again, to abide in love, to behold the light of the world, to experience the way, the truth, and the life, to enter into life everlasting...if you want to know God, come here and see Jesus.    Amen.