Epiphany 2A, 15 Jan. 2023.  The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

• Isaiah 49:1-7. I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.
  
• 1 Corinthians 1:1-9. God is faithful.
• John 1:29-41. Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

O God, manifest in us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

Last week in our Gospel lesson, we heard Matthew’s version of Jesus’ baptism at the Jordan River. According to Matthew, the voice that Jesus heard was an inside-out rather than an outside-in voice. Matthew was describing the bat kol, the voice of the Divine, which sounds like the voice of a little girl, or the daughter of a voice, an echo. Matthew mentions that the heavens opened up to Jesus and a spirit of holiness landed on him like a dove and he heard the voice of the Divine, the bat kol, saying, “This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew does not describe this as a voice heard by any of the others who were there.

The Gospel of John’s version of Jesus’ encounter with John the Baptist is very different. For one thing, John the Evangelist doesn’t ever say that Jesus was baptized. You might have heard this reading this morning and concluded that John the Baptist baptized Jesus the day before, but it’s not there. In the verses before our reading, John the Baptist says “among you stands one whom you do not know. The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”

So Jesus’ baptism is not a part of John’s Gospel story, nor is the voice of the Divine calling Jesus beloved. John the Baptist says he did not know Jesus prior to seeing the sign of the spirit descending and remaining on Jesus. This spirit is not explicitly named as holy, although since it comes from heaven, we deduce it.

What else is not here? Sins. There’s no reference to baptism as being a ritual for the forgiveness of sins. Instead, it’s Jesus, God’s lamb, who takes away the sin (singular) of the world, the enslaving power, the wrongdoing of the world. [1] One blogger put it this way: “It’s about cosmic victory…and not about the snarky remark you made to Aunt Frieda about her new hat.” [2] What else? Suffering is not predicted. Sacrifice is not mentioned. And not all of John’s disciples leave him to follow Jesus. John doesn’t become a follower of Jesus. He just keeps doing what he’s doing until he gets arrested. That’s true in all four Gospel accounts, by the way.

John the Evangelist says that this took place outside of Jerusalem, across the Jordan River in a place called Bethany (or Beit Ani). Beth Ani means poorhouse or house of response to those who are suffering. [3] So, according to John the Evangelist, the recruiting of Andrew and his brother Simon took place outside of Jerusalem, across the Jordan River in a place called Beit Ani and not in the Galilee, where Andrew and Simon had a fishing business with their father. As you know, I’m always trying to separate the ingredients of what I call Gospel soup, where the stories from the four evangelists and the spices of church traditions and teachings get put in a big Church blender to make them smooth. What I want you to know is that there’s not just one authorized version of the life and death and afterlife of Jesus, to believe or not believe. So, while today’s cantata says the path is narrow, I want you to know there’s plenty of room at the table.

Maybe you remember that last week I mentioned that Jesus’ first words in the Gospel of Matthew were forgive, release, or unbind sin to fulfill all righteousness or right-relationship. In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ first words are, “What are you looking for?” That’s a question worth pondering on many levels, isn’t it? I invite you to carry that question around with you this week. Imagine the question is being asked of you, of us as a parish. What are you looking for? What are we looking for? And where are we looking for it?

Punctuated differently, their answer is a teacher, a guide from whom to learn.  Their question, “Where are you staying?” can also be understood on many levels. Maybe the answer is, “We’re wondering where you’re staying while you’re here in Beit Ani?” It can mean where are you lodging, where do you remain; it can also mean where is the substance of your being? Where are you nourished, loved, or where do you love? Where do you come alive? Where do you remain alive?

Jesus’ response was, “Come and see.” They went and saw where Jesus was staying, abiding, or dwelling. Maybe it was a house or some other kind of shelter, but I like to imagine that it was outside somewhere. Then there’s that curious note about the time of day, which is regrettably demystified by translating the tenth hour as “about four o’clock in the afternoon.”  I think the tenth hour indicates that there was still time for teaching and learning before the end of the day.

I want to call your attention to how much seeing, watching, noticing, recognizing, looking, finding, and revealing is going on in this short passage from the Gospel of John. [4] In Greek, as in English, seeing and knowing are often interchangeable when it comes to understanding. Perhaps there is not a more perfect Gospel passage for the season of Epiphany, which itself has to do with seeing, revelation, or manifestation. There are words in this passage that mean seeking, in order to find, and finding with or without looking; you know, like things discovered while looking for something else, or while not looking at all. One of the Greek words that gets translated see is the same word that forms the root for theater. In this short passage from the Gospel of John there are variations of seven different Greek words that have to do with vision. John the Evangelist loved metaphors, so we can understand that vision may have both everything and nothing to do with eyesight.

It seems to me that spiritual or sacred vision develops, deepens, and grows in the heart. In her book about photography called Eyes of the Heart, Christine Valters Paintner points out that to see with eyes of the heart is to see or understand differently than thinking, calculating, or analyzing with the mind. She writes, “Just like the camera, the heart has the capacity for turning its lens toward what it longs to see and then choosing its focus.” [5] In this story, the Gospel of John is exploring the capacity of those early followers of Jesus who saw something, recognized something, found something in Jesus that changed their hearts and focused their vision. Maybe he restored their vision; maybe he gave them vision for the first time; whichever it was, John tells us, it was deeply transformative.

I want to go back to the detail about where this scene in our Gospel narrative takes place, because the location matters. Beit Ani was literally a way station for people who were suffering, a kind of hospice location, where desperate people could be received and cared for. The people at Beit Ani were either providing assistance and care or needing assistance and care, perhaps a little of both. (There were at least a few places in biblical times called Beit Ani.) If John the Baptist was preparing the way of the Lord, and if affliction made one ritually impure, then healing and a ritual cleansing were needed to restore one to community. In those days, in that part of the world, there was no better place than the Jordan River. That’s why, by the way, I like to pour a little bit of water that I have collected from the Jordan River into the baptismal font when I baptize. It’s not magic of course, but it is symbolically, ritually, powerful. Restoring folks to community is a way of preparing the way of the Lord. I like to remind Emmanuel of Beit Ani, because Beit Ani reminds me of Emmanuel as a place of response, respite, and care, which we all provide for hundreds and hundreds of people week in and week out: preparing the way of the Lord, living into the vision of restoring folks to community.

You know, our Gospel passage for today ends with Jesus telling Simon, brother of Andrew and son of John, that he is to be called Cephas (which is translated Peter), but Jesus himself never calls Simon Cephas or Peter in this Gospel. The next time Jesus says Simon’s name is at the end of the whole Gospel when, appearing to the disciples on the beach in Galilee, he cooks fish for them for breakfast. “Simon, son of John,” he asks, “Do you love me?” Simon replied, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus replied to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he asked him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He replied again, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” When he asked a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Simon, feeling hurt, demurred, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep,” and then said, “Follow me.”

One last thing that’s not here. Jesus never says, “Worship me” or “Bow down before me.” He says, “Follow me. Follow me; I’ll show you where some living bread is. Follow me; I’ll show you where some living water is. Follow me; I’ll show you the way of Love, because Love is the way.”