Acts 7: 44-60

"Our ancestors had the tent of testimony in the wilderness, as God directed when he spoke to Moses, ordering him to make it according to the pattern he had seen. Our ancestors in turn brought it in with Joshua when they dispossessed the nations that God drove out before our ancestors. And it was there until the time of David, but it was Solomon who built a house for him. Yet the Most High does not dwell in houses made with human hands; as the prophet says, "Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me, says the Lord, or what is the place of my rest? Did not my hand make all these things?' "You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are forever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and murderers. You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you have not kept it." When they heard these things, they became enraged and ground their teeth at Stephen. But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. "Look," he said, "I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!" But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him. Then they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him; and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." When he had said this, he died.

John 14: 1-14

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going." Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him." Philip said to him, "Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied." Jesus said to him, "Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, "Show us the Father'? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

Sermon Text

Last week several Hanover members and friends met with members of Congregation Beth Shalom for the final evening of a series of meetings in which we ate together and discussed a film about what Jews and Christians have in common, and what they don't. The film was just a way to introduce some questions for discussion. Discuss we did--with gusto! Because the honesty and trust within the group was waxing strong, we ventured to say things that risked offense--not only to members of the other faith tradition, but even to members of our own. Consequently, we went where we had not dared to go before. For instance, we broached an issue that I thought we might never touch, one that has the whole world in an uproar: holy land. And, of course, we spoke about the roots of anti-Semitism, which can be traced all the way back to our Christian scriptures, especially to the gospels of Matthew and John. An example also occurs in our passage from Acts this morning, where Stephen lambasts Jews for being a stiff necked, murderous people, whereupon they stone him.

One Jewish friend, moved almost to tears said, "Why don't you Christians just rewrite your scriptures. Take out the passages that have been so cruel and harmful to Jews!" I agreed with him that there are many passages like that in our New Testament; such as the one we read this morning, where Jesus says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." " However," I continued, "we shouldn't deal with such passages the way Thomas Jefferson did, by taking scissors to his Bible, removing all the parts that didn't seem morally right to him, and then pasting together the remaining pieces. Would you think of scissoring your sacred books?" I asked him. I continued: "The way that Jews have dealt with troubling passages in their own scriptures--and there have been plenty of them too--is by arguing with each other, figuring out how scriptures must be understood in the light of other scriptures within the sacred library. As a result of this learning process, the community of faith has sometimes acknowledged that some passages are morally and spiritually binding, whereas others are not. Well, we Gentiles have the same task before us that you Jews have been at for a long, long time. In our Bible classes and from our pulpits we must weigh our sacred words to discover what is helpful and what is harmful, what is morally upright and what is morally suspect, what might be true for all people and what is just sectarian diatribe."

In that moment, when I was speaking to a Jewish friend who was almost in tears, tears of anguish and tears of anger, I realized that no believer who wants to be real and loving in this shrinking world can afford any longer to remain safely confined to his or her protected circle, voicing only the buzz words that are sure to elicit consent. This may keep one safe for a while. But such willful isolation endangers the peace of the planet, for it contributes to the proliferation of partial truths at best, and to stupid and cruel prejudices at worst. No, those who want to be real and loving must resolve to no longer think and speak about God with language to protect the in-crowd. Those who would be real and loving can no longer abide the attitude that one's own faith community has the truth, and that all others who won't consent with it can just go to hell. Believers who would be real and loving must therefore endeavor to speak of God not from a sectarian, but from a global human perspective. If believers would be real and loving, they must be ready to hear reasonable arguments against what they believe, not only from other faith communities, but even from agnostics and atheists. Applying that insight to Christians, when we say that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, then we should be ready to explain and defend that affirmation to anyone willing to pull his or her chair up to the table.

Suppose somebody curious and bold pulls his chair up to your kitchen table. Put yourself in this picture, please. This somebody is your neighbor, whom you've known for years. But you've never discussed religion with him or her, because in a polite, pluralistic society one doesn't do that; it might cause hurt feelings. However, suppose on this occasion there's just something in the air. It's like you're in one of those college late night bull sessions when you talked about anything and everything. Nothing's out of bounds. You feel safe. Nobody's going to hate you in the morning. And your neighbor, who isn't a believer (apparently, of any flavor) asks you: "What do you mean, Jesus is the way, the truth, the life? Unpack that for me."

Could you? Could you respond in a way that might make sense to someone who, for all you know, has never been to Sunday school? The opportunity has never presented itself to me, frankly. Isn't that a sad commentary on the skittishness of our pluralistic society, where people think that the only possible way to protect people's right to believe what they want is to remain silent? Well, I got to thinking about how I would respond. I think I'd say something like this:

For me, Jesus is a model for what happens when God's spirit lives in a human being, completely, so that that person loves mercy, does justice, and walks humbly with God. John's gospel puts it this way: "No one has ever seen God. But Jesus, who was in the bosom of the Father, he has made God known."

My neighbor isn't satisfied yet. He pushes me: "What specifically makes you see Jesus as a man who was uniquely open to God's spirit?"

I would respond this way: A number of things: first, the way that he was able to draw on people's own trust in God, to heal them of their infirmities of mind and body.

Secondly, the way he pursued authenticity relentlessly: He deliberately disobeyed Jewish purity codes, such as eating only certain foods and with certain people, to make the point that being righteous in God's eyes means loving all people, and acting justly toward them, not conforming to certain religious laws and rituals.

Thirdly, Jesus seemed more interested in outsiders than insiders. He ate with sinners and prostitutes. He chose fishermen, a tax collector and a zealot, underdogs and fringe people, for disciples. In stories like that of the Good Samaritan he made heroes of outcasts.

Fourthly, he taught again and again that God is merciful; that all of us, no matter what we've done, no matter what we've believed or stood for in the past, all of us have a chance to start over, to begin anew.

Finally--and for me this is the most astounding thing about Jesus-- he rejected the belief that the world must be set right by killing off all the bad people. Jesus did not believe in the myth of redemptive violence. He taught us to love our enemies. He himself probably had enough popular support to kill off his enemies, but he chose not to. He chose to endure the cross instead.

As I've pondered these characteristics of the man, Jesus of Nazareth, I've come to realize that other people have exhibited them, too, perhaps not so completely and dramatically, but to a considerable extent. So, what's so great about Jesus then? If other people have exhibited remarkable love, remarkable courage, remarkable authenticity, then why do Christians see God in him and not in someone else? Well, this Christian does see God in others. Jesus is certainly not the only person who has been richly anointed by God's spirit. There have been many, and there will be many more, I trust. But Jesus of Nazareth is my icon of God. He embodied God's spirit to an extent and degree that makes him, at least in my eyes, the spiritual paradigm by which I recognize the presence of God's spirit in others, even in those who do not believe in him as Israel's Messiah.

That's about as well as I can do in unpacking the affirmation that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. I am not at all comfortable with the phrase that follows directly thereafter: that no one comes to the Father except through him. I don't think Jesus actually said that, and I don't even think it's something that he would have agreed with, given the evidence that he was so open to outsiders and outcasts. In fact, I think that second portion of John 14:6 would have made Jesus blanch, so contrary it is to his affection for prodigals. There is much vitriol against the Jews in the Gospel of John, but I doubt that Jesus spoke any of it. The church put such words in his mouth, I believe, a church that was still a Jewish sect, and not separated yet from the synagogue, a church that was beginning to be persecuted, and excommunicated, and so, was becoming resentful. The statements blaming the Jews for Jesus' death and those declaring that unbelievers in Jesus as Messiah shall have no access to God, these all have the mark of the resentment of a persecuted people. As a Jew, Jesus would likely have sympathized with fellow Jews who were being persecuted. But he would not have condoned the vile, reactionary hatred that eventually ensued from their resentment. He would have continued to preach forgiveness, patience, kindness, and understanding.

So, I won't cut the second half of John 14:6 out of my Bible. But nor will I allow it to stand as a pronouncement of Jesus. My Jewish friend was right. We Christians have a responsibility for the harmful things our scriptures say. In a world endangered by fundamentalist fury, we must not allow such scriptures to warp minds and inflame hatred. The Holocaust was not a fluke. The like could happen again. Only the wisdom and courage of brave souls willing to step outside their religious boxes will prevent it. So, may God's spirit give us that wisdom and courage to think and speak of God not just within safe circles of protected discourse, but openly, as if the whole world were listening in; for in the modern, wired, global marketplace of ideas and ideologies, the whole world does listen.