The Opening Question--January 17, 2023

The Opening Question--January 17, 2023

"The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, 'Look, here is the Lamb of God!' The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, 'What are you looking for? They said to him, 'Rabbi' [which translated means Teacher], 'where are you staying?' He said to them, 'Come and see'." [John 1:35-39a]

The first words on Jesus' lips in John's Gospel... are a question.  They are an invitation to conversation, and they become an open invitation to share Jesus' journey. And for the ones who answer that opening question, life is never the same.

I don't know that I had ever thought about this before, but really it's amazing that after all the build-up and drama and foreshadowing [and John's Gospel can really lay it on thick some times], the first time we actually get words out of Jesus' mouth, he is unpretentiously asking a question of would-be followers and inviting them to come along with him.  Of course, each of the Gospel writers is something like a movie director telling their own versions of the same basic plot.  So I don't get fussy that John's version of the movie gives us this conversation, while, say, Matthew gives us a different conversation between Jesus and John the Baptizer as the first words he speaks, or Mark just unloads with a fierce message, "Turn around and believe--the Reign of God has come near!"  Each of these writers is choosing a different moment to give us our introduction to the adult Jesus, and that's fine.  But just let it sink in that, of all the things John the Gospel-writer could have chosen, he gives us this ordinary seeming moment, where Jesus is open and inviting.  "Come and see," he says, looking eye to eye at two strangers, and inviting them to be where he is, to stay where he stays, and to follow his way.  Beyond the words themselves, the way he speaks them reveals a kindness and even a humility that draws others in.

After all, when John started writing this Gospel, he opened up with a glorious and majestic poem about creation.  John's Gospel is the one that begins, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God... and the Word became flesh and lived among us...full of grace and truth."  And not only that, he's now given us two dramatic introductions to Jesus as his forerunner, John the Baptizer, has called our attention to him and pointed him out as "the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!"  It has the feel of the big moment on stage when the curtain pulls back, the timpani player hammers out a drum roll, and the limelights all focus front and center on the star coming forward to belt out a show-stopping number, and then--Jesus comes forward, not shouting a slogan, preaching a sermon, or singing a bold anthem, but striking up a converastion.  

"What are you looking for?" he asks.  It carries the feel of asking, "Just so we're clear, what is it you think you are in search of?  What is it that has led you to me?"  Jesus gives the impression he wants to dispel any mistaken impressions or false advertising about himself.  He is being utterly real, utterly honest, and utterly unpretentious.  Jesus doesn't need to puff himself or make himself look more impressive.  He doesn't hype the spectacle of what people will see when they follow him like P.T. Barnum or some carnival barker, drumming up ticket-buyers for the afternoon show.  If anything, Jesus seems to slow down these would-be disciples who have come to him, cautiously asking what they think they are expecting from him.  He is not a salesman, and he is not in advertising.  He is just real.

In fact, that's one of the things about Jesus [as John the Gospel-writer shows him to us in his telling] that remains constant, all the way through. You might recall that on Easter morning, when Jesus has risen from the dead but it's not quite clear to all the other characters at the tomb what's going on, that Jesus calls to Mary with a question, "Whom are you looking for?"  It's not that different from this opening question to the would-be disciples, and in the end, the thing that tips Mary off that he's not just the gardener is in the unpretentious way he calls her name, "Mary," [to which, she responds, "Rabbi"--in another beautiful bookending echo of this story].  From beginning to end, the story of Jesus is the story of his kindness that invited people in.  Jesus had this disarming way of putting people at ease, helping them to let down their guard [and their pretenses], and to feel truly included in whatever was going on.  And, as happens here in the opening chapter of John's Gospel, it changes the lives of these would-be disciples who end up following Jesus and carrying his message and way of life to all creation.

I wonder--could we see this day as a similar opportunity?  In a time when it's easy for the church to be regarded as a product to be sold, and for the gospel to sound like a sales-pitch, could we see this day simply as the chance to engage people with kindness and disarming openness, and to let that lead where it will?  I'll be honest, even as a pastor, every time I overhear a respectable religious person [no doubt with the best of intentions] start in talking to a stranger with a clearly rehearsed canned spiel trying to get someone to make a decision for Jesus on the spot, it makes my insides queasy.  It's not that I'm against sharing our faith--not at all.  It's that the rehearsed sales-pitch speech sounds so strikingly unlike Jesus, who doesn't use a pamphlet or a program or any other promotional literature, but just meets people where they are and makes the invitation, "Come and see."  Could we invite people that way?  Could we speak with honesty to friends and neighbors, or even strangers and enemies, and say, "There's something compelling about this Jesus, and his way of loving people--I won't promise anything more or anything less than Jesus, but come and see"?  Could we hold off on seeing the Christian faith as a deal to be accepted [Jesus certainly doesn't act that way], but more of a shared journey with Jesus?  And could we then keep making ourselves available to people around us, simply making the authentic invitation to join the walk and share the road?  Could we dare to engage people with the kindness we see in Jesus, which opens up to their questions, thoughts, ideas, and needs?  I don't know about you, but that sounds downright compelling to me.

And it makes me grateful that I have been drawn to a Savior whose first move is to ask questions and invite conversation, even from me.  Even from you.

Lord Jesus, draw us in by your kindness, and let us meet others with that same genuine care we have first met in you.