Finding and Being Found

In the passage, John 1:35-51, which I’m preparing to preach on Sunday, the greek word eurisko is used five times. The word means “I find.”

In v.41, Jesus finds Andrew.
Also in v.41, Andrew reports to Simon that he has found the Messiah.
In v. 43, Jesus finds Philip.
In v. 45, Philip finds Nathaniel.
Also in v. 45, Philip reports that they have found “him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote.”

This implies that there was a profound amount of seeking. Johns disciples were seeking the Messiah, the fulfillment of the law and the prophets, but the Messiah — the Light — was also seeking them. It reminds me of the last line of Psalm 23, “Surely goodness and mercy shall pursue me all the days of my life.”

Eurisko implies a deep sense of seeking.

When we seek in darkness, it’s hard to tell what we are looking for,
but when we seek in the light, we find and are found.

Jesus, Mr. Rogers and the Role of Neighbor

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a Father’s only son.” Jn 1:14

John, the evangelist, provides his reader with a deep sense of incarnational theology: Christ’s selfless abiding among his people. This was a radical worldview shifting idea, and still is. To this point, the deities sat removed from humanity, annoyed with humanity and only became god incarnate to meddle or get someone pregnant.

This God on earth idea changed the way God’s relationship with humanity was represented from that point in history forward. God among us. God with us – Immanuel. God not meddling, not coercing, not abandoning.

The Greek verb, skeinao, literally means “pitched a tabernacle tent.” The holy place got built next door. Eugene Peterson interpreted this passage, “The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.”

A less subtle understanding is that God became our neighbor.
Even less so, we became his.
This reminds me of Fred Rogers, changing his shoes, switching his sweater, looking into the camera asking, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” That was a request, a question. The power in the relationship was yours.

This should transform the way we understand Jesus – as he said to an expert in the law: “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets [Mt 22:37-40].”

How are these two commandments alike? They both share Jesus as their center.

Jesus is the Lord that we love heart, soul and mind. He is also, our neighbor. Remember, he moved in next door? Recently I listened to a podcast and heard Peter Rollins describe MT 22 passage like this: “[sic] I’ve always thought about these two commandments like they were twins walking down the street. You can’t tell them apart. They are different, but we can’t tell the difference.”

In the opening of John’s Gospel, the author locates Jesus not only in historical context, but also next door to you. The question of how to treat our neighbor is a dominant gospel theme. How we treat our neighbor (which the Greek renders ‘not you, but the other one’) has 50% share in the way our faith is lived. Remember the parable of the Good Samaritan? That story was told in response the question, “Who is my neighbor?” One could look at the entire ministry of Jesus as a ministry to neighbor.

When a new family moves into your neighborhood, how do you respond? Do you receive them? Ignore them? Wait for them to come to you? Remember that verse in Hebrews? “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it [13:2].”

  • Does this change how we view our neighbors?
  • Does love of neighbor (as though they were Jesus) make you feel uncomfortable?
  • Why?

  • Words Like Packing Peanuts

    “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart [Lk 2:19].”

    “Mommy, tell me the story of the night I was born.”

    Mary knew that one day, her son would ask her that question. When I asked my Mom about the day I was born, it was a cool story, but it wasn’t like Mary’s. Mary’s involved travel, homelessness, uncomfortable donkey riding, stables and food troughs, but it also involved shepherd and angels. Sometime, between the cord being cut and the baby’s first diaper change, a ruffian group of hyped out sheep wranglers came knocking on the stable door.

    Their eyes were filled with wonder and stories of God’s glory fell from their mouths (not what you would expect to hear from a first century Palestinian shepherd.) The words they spoke were resplendent and would have been difficult to take in. I imagine that the words they were saying fell around Mary like…like packing peanuts. They were difficult to grasp and harder still to hold together.

    Luke 2, verse 19 says that Mary treasured the words and she pondered them in her heart. The Greek adds some additional flavor. The word for treasure is a word picture. It’s like Mary picking up packing peanuts one at a time, finding a place in her arms for each one. The next phrase, pondering them in her heart, is another word picture: it means to throw together. Jesus used this word when he talked about counting the cost of following him and said, “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? [Lk 14:31].” No one, throws together a war (hopefully), it’s careful and studied…intentional [Pro 20:18]

    Mary threw their words together and grasped after them like picking up packing peanuts after a move.

    The Gospel story is not just words that we are supposed to understand. It’s a greater than words kind of story. Like Mary, we gather the words together, but commit ourselves to living life with Christ, moment by moment. We don’t have to explain it, we get to experience it.

    Christmas is an invitation to experience the presence of Christ wordlessly, without dissertation or explanation. And as Mary treasured and pondered the story as it began, we do the same…as it continues.

    Merry Christmas!

    Radical Kenosis

    Kenosis is the Greek term for how Christ approached his humanity, pouring out his divine status, his Godhood privilege, for our sakes. Narayanan Krishnan embodies radical kenosis. The kind Paul writes about here:

    Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus,
    who, existing in the form of God,
    did not consider equality with God
    as something to be used for His own advantage.

    Instead He emptied Himself
    by assuming the form of a slave, (WHAM!)
    taking on the likeness of men. (POW!)

    And when He had come as a man in His external form,
    He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—
    even to death on a cross.

    For this reason God also highly exalted Him
    and gave Him the name that is above every name,
    so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow—
    of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth
    and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

    CNN; phil 2:5-11 (hcsb); (Batman onomatopoeias added for emphasis)

    The Seven Suns

    In Robert Rodriguez’ 2010 contribution to the Predator franchise (which, by the way, is the best offering since the original), a group of mercenary-type earthlings are transported to a distant planet where they eventually come face to face with the alien species who brought them there (bet you’re ready to rent it right now). In one early scene, the humans catch a glimpse of the sky and see stars and planets which tip them off to the fact that they’re not on the right planet. They’re not even in the right solar system. Seeing the alien horizon prompts Royce (played by Adrien Brody) to remark quite intently, “We’re going to need a new plan.”

    The many suns of this imaginary world remind me of the seven suns last Sunday’s portion of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. (2:11-3:6). In this passage, Paul uses seven words that contain the Greek prefix συν (pronounced soon, actually). The inclusion of sun as an adverb or adjective conditions the word Paul is using as something that is done in community.

    In describing what Christian community is and does, the sun prefix is instrumental for our understanding. As Paul writes, we are citizens together, who are joined together and built together, knowing together that we are heirs together. We are Christ’s body together sharing all things…you guessed it…together.

    We are like citizens of another planet, living in an alien world. We get our bearings from the seven suns, our togetherness. As we move forward as the Church, we’re going to see God do new things, experience the Risen Christ in new and powerful ways.

    And, oh yeah, we’re going to need a new plan.