Easter 5C. 15 May 2022. The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Acts 11:1-18. The spirit told me…not to make a distinction between them and us.
Revelation 21:1-6. I am making all things new.…To the thirsty I will give water as a gift.
John 13:31-35. I give you a new commandment, [in order] that you love one another.
O God of all, grant us the wisdom, the strength and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.
We are deep into Eastertide, and our scripture lessons and our cantata lesson today describe the visions of Peter, John of Patmos, and John the Evangelist, and Bach’s vision of peace and joy, comfort, calm, and quiet at the last. We’re also giving thanks to God for the five decades of the gentle and inviting presence of Stephen Babcock as chief usher and greeter. For more than thirty of his fifty+ years at Emmanuel, Sunday after Sunday, no matter what the weather, Steve stood just outside of the massive doors of a daunting stone structure in the first block of an intimidating location to offer graceful welcome. The vestry has named the doors to our west lobby “The Babcock Doors”, and just before we exchange the Peace today, we will dedicate and bless them.
The Acts of the Apostles tells a story of the Apostle Peter, in a trance of prayer, having a life-changing dream, which revealed that there is no distinction between them and us. In other words, when it comes to the redeeming urge or work of the Holy One (also known as Jesus Christ for Christians), there is no Jew or Gentile; no free or slave; no female or male (no gender, racial, or religious binaries), no insiders and outsiders; all people are one. [1] While there are always those on the margins and those in the center, those with less power and those with more, those of us who do not have their basic needs met and those of us who have and use more than our fair share of resources, we are all one. In his prayer, Peter realizes that he should not be hindering the work of God by deciding who is outside of and who is inside God’s reach when it comes to sacred and profane practices. Here’s where we often get tripped up as Christians. How does any of us decide what is godly is and what it’s not? Well, for starters, as our Presiding Bishop Curry is fond of saying, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” Of course it gets complicated, but love is always the place to start. If it looks like there are competing interests that all have to do with love, we might need to enlarge our view and look at the situation from 30,000 feet where differences between us are imperceptible.
The Revelation to John also comes through meditation, during which John experiences a vision of the Divine setting everything right that the Roman empire is getting completely wrong. Exiled on the Island of Patmos, John visualizes the Holy One at home among mortals — the Eternal dwelling secure among them. John sees the grief and weeping and pain ending – his own and his people’s — and everyone who is thirsty having enough to drink. John of Patmos’ vision is of God with us (Emmanuel) – and, building on Peter’s insight, “us” means everyone. There is no them.
The Gospel of John envisions a time when Jesus’ followers are known by and known for their love. These few verses, which we heard Bob read a moment ago, are sandwiched between a hard place of Judas leaving to arrange for Jesus’ arrest, and a rock (also known as Simon Peter) whom Jesus predicts will deny even knowing Jesus three times before the rooster signals the approaching dawn. The glory and love Jesus is talking about in today’s reading, are set right in the midst of the most painful betrayal and agonizing denial described in all of Christian scripture.
What do glory and love mean here in this dreadful spot between the rock and the hard place? The root of the word “glory” (dox – as in doxology) means appearance as in manifestation.[2] “Dox-ology” is language of appearance. Our word paradox means different from or in contrast to (para) how something seems or appears (dox). Orthodox means right or correct appearance. So the beginning of our Gospel lesson could be translated, “Now the Son of Humanity has appeared and God has appeared in him. If God has appeared in him, Godself will also appear in him and will appear in him immediately.” In this case, glorification is an appearance of the Divine, here in the midst of the worst scenario imaginable to Jesus’ followers: betrayal, denial, and crucifixion.
As I often do, I want to talk some about translation choices. “Children,” Jesus says, (the word little isn’t there –just children – maybe in the sense of tender and naïve, not fully matured or wisened.) I hear it as a term of endearment here. “I am with you only a little,” Jesus says. He says, “You will look for me, and where I am going you cannot come.” In the verse just following our reading, Jesus clarifies – you can’t follow me now, but you will follow afterwards – very sad, but not permanently sad. Then John the Evangelist’s account has Jesus talking about how he has previously said something to “the Judayoi” – rendered “Jews” in our NRSV. (That has become permanently sad, because, of course they were all Jews. I say permanently sad because our scripture translations continue to incite violence and murder.) Judayoi here should either be translated Judeans (in contrast with Galileans) or “people” (as in publicly vs. privately). If left translated as “Jews,” we must understand it as anachronistic and antithetical to Jesus’ life and witness.
Whenever I encounter this passage, I trip over the line about “a new commandment, that you love one another.” And I always think, that’s not a new commandment. That’s as old as Moses (which is not quite as old as dirt, …adamah… or Adam, but pretty close)! Why is this getting called a new commandment? What is new about the commandment to love one’s neighbor as oneself? I’m more sure than ever that the command here is not “to love one another.” A closer translation is, “A new command I am giving to you in order that you may love one another, just as I loved you in order that or so that you may love one another.” The word “should” doesn’t belong here. The command that Jesus has given in the verses just before this reading is to wash one another’s dirty feet. Serve one another, care for one another. Get your hands dirty – risk contamination, risk becoming unclean in service to one another. As far as I know, the command to wash one another’s feet, assuming a posture of kindness, of presence, of service, behaving as if we are all slaves, is a new command. There are Torah instructions to wash one’s own hands and feet. There is customary hospitality to offer water and a place to wash, and when available, servants to help. But Jesus takes a towel and he kneels down and washes his followers’ feet and then tells them to do that for one another. That’s the new commandment. Wash one another’s dirty feet, just as I have washed yours.
The purpose is to demonstrate your love for one another. This is how people will know that we are Jesus followers – when we demonstrate our presence, our kindness, our service for one another. Jesus says, “in order that, or so that, you love one another” three times. That means he really means it. It also means it probably wasn’t happening so much. If it had been happening, there wouldn’t be any need to write it down and to emphasize it by saying it three times. I mean, no one says three times in a row, “I’m giving you this new dish soap so that you will wash the dishes” if the dishes are already washed and put away, right? And of course, it’s hard enough to do this for our family and friends. Jesus teaches (like Moses before him and Muhammed after him) that we must perform humble acts of mercy, kindness and service for our enemies as well as our allies. [3]
Indeed, there are times in the history of Christianity when we have been known for our works of presence, kindness, and service. Yet, our past is checkered, at best. But listen to excerpts of Tertullian’s description of church practice in the good old days of the early second century of the common era: [3] “On the monthly day… each puts in a small donation; but … only if he be able: for there is no compulsion; all is voluntary. These gifts are, as it were, piety’s deposit fund. For [funds] are not taken thence and spent on feasts, and drinking-bouts, and eating-houses, but to support and bury poor people, to supply the wants of [children] destitute of means and parents, and of old persons confined now to the house; such, too, as have suffered shipwreck; and if there happen to be any in the mines, or banished,…or shut up in the prisons…. it is mainly the deeds of a love so noble that lead many to put a brand upon us. See, they say, how they love one another, for … we call each other [family]; … we do not hesitate to share our earthly goods with one another. All things are common among us …. Whatever it costs, our outlay in the name of piety is gain, since with the good things of the feast we benefit th[ose who are] needy.” Tertullian doesn’t quite get the lack of distinction between us and them, but he beautifully describes what it means to act like a Jesus follower. His vision is beautiful and true to my experience when we are functioning well.
When we are functioning well, we are actively engaged in behaviors that are encouraging those who are afraid, nourishing those who are hungry, healing those who are suffering, forgiving those who are guilty, redeeming those who have been undervalued, returning what has been stolen, repairing what is broken, freeing those who are stuck or imprisoned, inspiring those who are dispirited, reviving those who are tired. Adrienne Maree Brown, writing about social justice says: [5]
If the goal was to increase the love, rather than winning or dominating a constant opponent, I think we could actually imagine liberation from constant oppression. (…) We would organize with the perspective that there is wisdom and experience and amazing story in the communities we love. (…) We would understand that the strength of our movement is in the strength of our relationships, which could only be measured by their depth. Scaling up would mean going deeper, being more vulnerable and more empathetic.
What surprising vision of well-being animates you? What astonishing disclosure of Divine love might be speaking to you wherever (or whenever) you are between a hard place and a rock, in the midst of betrayals and failures, ignorances and misunderstandings? The point is to bravely turn away from cynicism and sarcasm and fear, and move toward right relationship, authentic and deeply respectful relationship, with the Divine, with family members, with friends and strangers, and maybe even with those who are out to get you. So I ask you: what is the most potent next step you can take to live more fully into that vision? Whatever it is, I beg you to take it today while there’s still time.
- Galatians 3:28.
- Leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com, April 18, 2016.
- https://www.abuaminaelias.com/islam-mercy-to-the-worlds/
- Tertullian, Apologeticus, Ch. XXXIX (http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/anf03.toc.html#P253_53158)
- adrienne maree brown, Emergent Strategy