Gospel Lesson: John 16:16-22
Jesus present, and Jesus absent. God with us, and … well, just where is God?!
It’s easy for us to appreciate the disciples’ confusion. Jesus’ speech is difficult to grasp — not only because Jesus so often talks in riddles or veiled language; and not only because his teaching contains so many surprises about what’s coming next — but also because of our anxious need to pinpoint just where God is and what God is up to. It seems that the available information is conflicting or at the very least unclear.
At one level, this is a cosmological or philosophical issue; it’s intellectual and rather remote. But at another level, it is indeed very personal; it speaks to the heart. What’s the near and far of God with respect to your life and mine? What does God mean for you and me?
Keeping God near is what the Temple in Jerusalem was all about. The Temple was the assurance of God’s presence for the Chosen People of ancient times. As long as God was in their midst, God’s people had protection from their enemies, security, and peace.
The problem was sin. God was repelled by sin; God hated sin. So unless people repented and asked for forgiveness, God would withdraw. God would abandon the people and leave them to their own meagre devices to stave off the aggression of neighbouring nations. And when that happened, then typically a military disaster would occur. God’s Chosen People would suffer defeat, enslavement, and — most tragically — exile from the land that God had promised and then given them.
Hence the routine of sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem. Sacrifice was the way in which God’s people expressed both their contrition and repentance for their wickedness, as well as their love for God above everything else. They trusted that God would cleanse them of their sins by God’s desire to forgive and keep the Chosen People near, so that God and God’s People could remain united.
Of course, that’s on a national level. We can find those kinds of national concerns expressed especially in the Book of Leviticus (which you might also know as the Second Book of Moses) and the prophets. In many other places in the Bible — especially the Psalms — God’s faithful people yearn for God’s presence and nearness for the sake of their individual, personal wellbeing. For example, the opening words of Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?”
These words from Psalm 22 are especially memorable because Jesus uttered them when he was dying upon the cross. Those words echo down through the ages and ring even in our ears. They penetrate our hearts. For although none of us have been crucified, I imagine all of us have suffered experiences when it seemed like God has withdrawn, perhaps even abandoned us.
Those words from Psalm 22 would have been all the more poignant in the ears of the disciples who faithfully followed Jesus throughout his itinerant ministry in Galilee and Judea. Jesus had called them away from their vocations, their homes, and their families, so that they might be with him, assist him and learn from him as he ministered according to his Heavenly Father’s will, for the sake of new life and salvation.
Jesus was the embodiment of the divine will. He is the Word-made-flesh. In the person of Jesus, God was in their midst. It was so obvious. Look at how he taught: with authority that came from within his own being. Look at all the wonders: Jesus changed water into wine; he fed the crowds miraculously, providing for all when so very little was available; he restored the outcasts to their communities; Jesus healed the sick, exorcised demons, and even raised the dead from their graves.
God-manifest! God-revealed! New hope for the nation! New hope for those whom he had called out from their everyday struggles for the sake of new life!
But then he set his face toward Jerusalem, the centre of religious and political power. His disciples tried to dissuade him, but Jesus knew what he had to do for our sake. And we know how that would turn out. “A little while, and you will no longer see me.”
The world wants to rid itself of Jesus, because the world does not want God in its midst on the terms that Jesus embodies. Jesus is grace-on-the-loose. We don’t want that. We want conditions, we want qualifiers. We want a legal code, a system, a mechanism we can control.
I think the disciples were not immediately aware of this. It didn’t sink in until they witnessed Jesus’ first departure: his death upon the cross. The brokenness of the world took him away, deprived him of his spirit, and removed him from the familiar environment of life-together. Even the disciples’ own high resolve propelled him to his end. That’s what he meant when he said, “A little while, and you will no longer see me.”
But that’s not all Jesus said. In the same breath he added, “And again a little while, and you will see me.” Once again, we can appreciate the disciples’ confusion and frustration. Why doesn’t Jesus come out and say plainly what he means? Why all the riddles, why all the veiled language?
Well, how could you capture in human language what God is up to in the Only Beloved Son, Jesus Christ?
The Resurrection is so completely foreign to the pattern of life that is expressed in our own flesh: we are born; we mature and attain the heights of our human powers; and then we begin to fade like flowers coming to the close of their natural cycles. We know very well what’s coming, because we have witnessed it in the lives of those who have gone before us … and many of us can feel it in our own bones and flesh, too.
And yet, beyond all human expectation, God-in-heaven rolls away the stone and raises the Only Beloved Son. The new life that God-in-Christ establishes among us and in us surpasses the limits of everything that God created in the first place, including our own personhood. And it begins with the resurrected, exalted Lord Jesus once again walking among his disciples and teaching them according to God’s redeeming will.
That’s what he meant when he said, “And again a little while, and you will see me.” Three days in the tomb — “a little while.”
But we’re not done yet. If we thought we had it all figured out at this point, we’re in for another surprise. All along Jesus was certainly alluding to his crucifixion and resurrection, but he was also hinting at his Ascension. That’s what he means when he says, “I am going to the Father.”
With the completion of his itinerant ministry, his death, and then his resurrection, Jesus’ mission among us is accomplished. He has ushered in his Heavenly Father’s plan to rescue a broken, sin-sick world from itself by the dawning of a New Creation, with Jesus himself as the First Being of that New Creation. His work “in our flesh” is done. He returns to the heavenly throne.
And with that dramatic development, God-in-the-flesh is no longer among the disciples, or anyone else for that matter. God’s barrier-shattering mode of dwelling with humankind came to an end.
So, what now? Has God abandoned the world that God had created and promised to restore? Where is our hope, especially in the face of those events that afflict us — conflict, relational breakdown, loss of economic security, threats to our national security from erstwhile friends, illness, untimely death? Where is God? Is God near to me?
You know, I don’t need promises of great personal achievement or tremendous wealth. I don’t need a guarantee of conflict-free or a pain-free life. I don’t need God with me, near me, to provide an escape-hatch from the realities of everyday life. I imagine that you faithful people — whatever your calling in life — I imagine you are with me in this regard.
What I do want, what you and I need, is the assurance that God has not abandoned us, that God is near us especially in the tough times, when life seems to go haywire.
That is why the church of Jesus Christ exists. According to God’s promise in Jesus Christ, God is indeed near. God is present for you and me, certainly in whatever way God chooses, and just as certainly in the ministry that God has entrusted to the church of Jesus Christ. That’s why the church trains and authorizes pastors: to minister according to Jesus Christ; to proclaim Good News in Word and Sacrament for the sake of faith in God who, according to God’s promise, persists in loving and yearning for you and me and all God’s people.
And so, authorized by Christ himself, through Christ’s church, yet again I say: In the name of Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sin — not only the wrong things you have done, and the good that you have failed to do, but even our shared state of being which, apart from God’s Spirit, is opposed to God. In the name of Jesus Christ, I forgive you.
With the certainty of faith, I assure you: because of Jesus Christ, God is utterly and completely pleased with you and me — sinners, to be sure; but because of Jesus, forgiven sinners.
Hear again Jesus’ final word to his disciples in today’s Gospel lesson: “So you have pain now; but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
Peace be with you all.