Jesus, Who is He?

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Cathedral Church of St. Paul

Advent 3: December 17, 2017

Have you ever wondered about Jesus? I mean really wrestled with the question about who He was, who He is for you, and who He will be in the age to come? Advent is a time for just this kind of wrestling and wondering.

Back in the day, that time when Jesus and John the Baptist, lived and breathed and had their beings, many people wondered about them. It began with John the Baptist. People asked him, “Who are you? And what gives you the authority to do that?”

John the Baptist replied in the negative. He answered, “I am not the light. I am not the Messiah. I am not Elijah. And no, I am not the prophet Isaiah.” “Then who are you?” the people demanded. “I am God’s witness to the light,” John replied.

We have four gospel stories in our Bible. The gospel of Mark is known for its brevity and immediacy. Jesus is a man on God’s mission, running around exorcising demons, healing people, and calling fisherfolk to follow him. In the gospels of Matthew and Luke, we hear about the birth narratives of both John and Jesus, and how their lives unfold powerfully and tragically.

“Who is Jesus? And what authority does He have?” each gospel writer has asked. On this third Sunday in Advent, John the Baptist answers,  “Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” My job is to “testify to the light,” John said to the crowd, “so that all might believe through him.”

Many people throughout the ages have wondered about Jesus and his authority. “Was Jesus human or divine?”  Was he just a failed prophet, like so many others who had gone before him, like John the Baptist and Isaiah? Or was Jesus divine, the Messiah, and the Light that shines eternally? Was He truly the Word of God made flesh, who spoke with God’s power and authority?

Eventually, through the councils of the early church, people began to claim that Jesus was 100% fully human and 100% fully divine. Creeds were created to witness to our faith and tell the short story about Jesus, who lived, died, and rose again. The gospel of John claims that “everyone who believes in him will not perish but will have eternal life.” Do you believe this?

I didn’t. At least I didn’t until, like the gospel writers, I too had experienced Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life. I was baptized, not in the river Jordan, but in a baptismal font in the United Church of Christ. As a child, I remember the wonder of Christmas eve services, hustling out to our car from the church in the bitter cold, shielding the light of my candle with my hand, using this little light of mine to dispel my own darkness. I didn’t wonder about who Jesus was back then. I just worshipped Him, hoped in Him, and trusted Him.

In my teenage years, my wondering took a new turn. Like the demons in Mark’s gospel, I would ask Jesus, “Who are you? And what do you have to do with me?” I questioned so many things about God and Jesus that I chose not to be confirmed in the Presbyterian Church. In college, I identified myself as an agnostic, or someone who does not know; and then, later in my 20’s, I remember asking my next-door neighbor why she attended mass every Sunday, and why she even bothered to go to church. Her reply? “There are so many transitions in my life,” she said, “it’s the one place I can feel anchored and grounded."

Our babies were born 18 months apart, and in the traditions of our families, Paul and I baptized them both into the life of Christ, first at Epiphany Episcopal Church in Walpole, Massachusetts, and then at Trinity Episcopal Church in Newtown,Connecticut. It was there, as a young mother, that my wondering about Jesus began in earnest. Who was this guy? And what did He have to do with me, Paul, Megan, and Brian?

I wanted answers, and like a woman on a mission, I began to seek them. I attended Bible study every week and then Education for Ministry for four years. I joined the pastoral care team and then the vestry. I got involved in our outreach committee and helped create a transitional living facility for homeless women and their children. I was part of the town’s Local Housing Partnership and Habitat for Humanity, partnerships that created new and affordable housing in our communities. I visited people in the hospital and those in prison. My mission was to become a part of God’s mission.

The battle about Jesus that was raging within the early Christian and Jewish communities also raged within my own heart. Who was Jesus and who was Jesus for me? for my family? And for my neighbors? If Jesus was not divine, then why did I worship him? If Jesus was not human, then what did he know about me and my life or yours?

Jesus might be tight with His Father in heaven, but too often I’m not. Although he ate and drank with sinners, Jesus didn’t seem to struggle with addictions, as some of my family members and many of you have. I wondered about the extent of His suffering. Had he not died early in his 30’s, never having been married, raised children, nor faced the challenges of his mother’s old age, let alone his own? Does three hours of suffering on a cross compare to a lifetime on the streets or being trapped in a body that is riddled with disease?

How is it then that my voice, crying out in the wilderness, has become the voice of one who proclaims, ‘make straight the way of the Lord?’ Quite simply, through the power of God’s Spirit. Through scripture, I began to know that the Word of God became flesh and lived among us. It is through the body of Christ that I have come to know the One who stands among us, who made me worthy to stand before Him. It is through the power of the Holy Spirit that I have seen His face, heard His voice, and felt His healing touch. Like a slow drip of water on a stone, my heart has been changed, and my life continues to be transformed.

The birth of a baby is always a cause for great wonder. It is an opportunity for fresh starts, big dreams, and new life. In awe, we can marvel at the beauty of God’s creation. We can look upon a baby in the manger and see many reasons for hope. We can see a vulnerability that has not yet been marred by human unkindness, a dependency on others that is age appropriate, and soft skin that has not yet been hardened by human toil or abuse. This new life is almost always protected; and babies will often bring us to our knees, lost in wonder, love, and praise.

While human beings, like me and John the Baptist, may baptize with water, God baptizes with the Holy Spirit, which is beyond our human understanding or control. Such power can bring good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim release to the captive, and comfort to all who mourn. Such power can even raise the dead into eternal and resurrected life.

Our Presiding Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Michael Curry,  also testifies to that light today. He said (quote) “The truly liberating truth is that Jesus did not come into this world to found a religion, though religious faith is important. Nor did he establish a religious institution or organization, though institutions and organizations can serve his cause. Jesus came to continue a movement, born out of the prophets like Isaiah and John the Baptist.” (end quote) This movement is called the Jesus movement and it is the life-giving, liberating love of God, unleashed for all of us to receive, each and every day, through the power of the Spirit.

Who is Jesus? He is the living Word of God, who speaks to us daily, sometimes shouting, sometimes whispering, sometimes silent. He is the Bread of Life, who feeds our hungry hearts. He is the living Water, who quenches our thirst and washes away our sins. Who is Jesus? He is the Good Shepherd, who finds us when we’re lost, and the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Jesus is the Light of the world that shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it.

Through Him, I am a child once again, who can walk into the cold and bitter nights of winter, carrying my little candle in front of me, knowing that God’s hand will shield me and that God’s Spirit will guide me. Who is Jesus? He is the One who I have come to know standing among us, the thong of his sandal I am not worthy to untie. He is the Resurrection and the Life, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

And what about you? How do you come to the Table today? Are you struggling with pain, emptiness, and sorrow? Are you still wondering about Jesus? Or do you come rejoicing, expectant, and hopeful? Either way, come to the table and be fed by Jesus. Then, join the Jesus Movement, trust in the power of God’s Holy Spirit, and be a witness to the Light. Amen.

Keep Awake

1st Advent. December 3, 2017

Cathedral Church of St. Paul

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Isaiah 64: 1-9

Psalm 80: 1-7, 16-18

1 Corinthians 1: 3-9

Mark 13 : 24-37

Let us pray: O God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be our strength, lift us we pray into your presence, that we may be still and know that you are God. Amen.

I watched a YouTube video of the total solar eclipse that happened this past August. Here it is: https://youtube/G10m2ZZRH4U.

I wonder if Jesus, back in his day, was talking about a total eclipse of the sun, when he said, “In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” Jesus said, “after that suffering” this will happen. “That” suffering was their suffering as the people of Israel; it was his impending suffering on the cross; and it is our suffering today. “That” suffering comes in all shapes and sizes for each and every one of us; and it comes to all people in the countries throughout our world.

Last Sunday, Shaykh Yasir, Senior Imam at the mosque in Roxbury, was our guest preacher. He spoke about how God created everyone and everything, and it was all good and beautiful. He spoke about sleep as a mini-death, and that when we wake up from a night’s sleep, however long or short it may be, we can give praise and thanksgiving to God for yet another day of light and life. Sleep is like a mini total eclipse of the sun.

Some of us can sleep like warriors. It doesn’t matter what else is going on around us, we can sleep straight through it. Others of us struggle mightily with sleep, lying awake, tossing and turning.The darkened sun, indeed the dark itself, can produce anxiety; and because of this anxiety, we are restless and fearful. We worry about many things. We sleep with one eye open, perhaps even two, staring into the night sky, wondering if the stars will fall from heaven, and our lives will soon end. We find ways to medicate ourselves to shut off those internal voices, to calm our night terrors, and to silence the enemy.

Anxiety can be acute or chronic. Anxiety is contagious, and it infects the people all around us. Now, acute anxiety soon passes, like the total eclipse of the sun, while chronic anxiety infects our whole system; it stays with us long after any specific event is over. The sun comes out and yet the darkness remains. The family fight is over, and  we’re still angry and resentful. The war ended and the battles rage on. We are bitter, like the cold winds before an eclipse; and our responses become frozen like that well-known Princess in the movie.

The Rev. Peter Steinke writes that anxiety can “hold us back, take us by the throat, and chain us like a slave.” When chronic, we begin to think in narrow-minded ways, or behave in predictable patterns. We lose hope; we give up; we tighten our fists; we jerk our knees; we see through our sunglasses only darkly, and become depressed. We forget to walk in faith, even if we can’t see our way forward.

Jesus pointed to the fig tree and said, “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near.” Now, here in Boston, I’m not aware of any fig trees close by. In fact, most trees these days are losing their leaves rather than putting forth new ones. Summer is definitely not near on this 3rd day of December, which marks the beginning of our winter months.

Today, also marks the beginning of our liturgical year, when the Church begins a new season, which we call Advent. Following the narrative of our Christian faith, we prepare for the birth of Jesus, who lived, died, and rose again after his suffering.The Latin translation for Advent means to ‘come to.’ Broken apart into two words, ‘vent’ is translated ‘come’, and ‘ad’ is translated ‘to.’ So Advent means to “come to”, to come to Jesus, to “come to” after sleep, and to wake up to new life.

The season of Advent prepares us for the birth of God in our own lives, which can take many forms. In the gospel of Mark, Jesus says that the ‘Son of Man’ will come in clouds with great power and glory.” For those of us who are looking for an all-powerful God from on high, to descend and make all things right in our world, this is a hopeful passage. Evil is real and it takes many forms. Who among us does not want God to be our avenger?

The Israelites had been defeated by their enemies. They had lost their homes and their jobs, and saw their city of Jerusalem and its holy temple destroyed. They wanted such relief. The prophet Isaiah prayed to God, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down to make your name known to your adversaries.” The psalmist prayed similarly, repeating three times in psalm 80, “restore us, O God of hosts, show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.”

Perhaps you saw the article in the Boston Globe this past week about the Rev. Tom Hoar,  a Roman-Catholic priest from Quincy, Mass. who was “a genial guy whose spiritual home as a kid was a triple-decker in South Boston. (A few years ago) he created a retreat center on Enders Island off the shores of Connecticut, for those who have lost their way because of their addictions. He knows. He was there once long ago.”

“I never felt good enough,’’ he said. “Never felt smart enough. My brother was always the better athlete. Even though I excelled in school, internally I felt empty. And you see that in many alcoholics and addicts. I could preach a great sermon on how much God loved you. I wasn’t always sure that God loved me. Even though I achieved, I lived in fear.’’

“And Hoar developed a taste for alcohol. Good wine. Top-shelf whiskey. Fine cognac.”

“In early October of 1989, he was leading a new campus ministry at his alma mater in Vermont. He was alone, drinking in his room when a fire broke out about a mile away. He was the fire department chaplain, so he answered the alarm.”

“I went to this fire and the dean of students said to me, ‘Have you been drinking?’ And I said: ‘No, no, no, no.’ And the fire chief, who was a dear friend of mine said, ‘Have you been drinking?’ And I said, ‘No. I went out to dinner and had some drinks.’ ’’

“Hoar left the fire scene, navigating a sea of flashing red and blue lights. A mile later, he was back at home, where he looked in the mirror and took stock. “I said, ‘What the [expletive] are you doing?’ And that was my last drink.’’

“For (all) who cross that tiny one-lane bridge, whose lives have been wrecked by drugs and alcohol, who have left behind a trail of betrayal and defeat, of hopelessness and paralyzing fear, it is nothing less than the passage of a lifetime. When they get to the other side, he has the simplest of questions. It is a life-changing one. The Rev. Tom Hoar asks, “Have you had enough?”

“I’m grateful for God’s blessings in my life and in the life of the folks who come across that causeway,’’ Hoar said last week. “Because people who come across that causeway are looking for hope.’’

We all pray for the moon to pass, for the sunshine to return, and our anxieties to be relieved. We all want to find and embrace hope, so that we can see beyond our own darkness to the light that shines as bright as Venus in the night sky. Most of us would prefer to see the dawn of a new day, rather than the vesper light in the sunset of our lives.

Today, Janet McKenzie’s art surrounds us with hope. As Christians, we proclaim our resurrection faith, which begins with the birth of Jesus, who is our causeway, a tiny one-lane bridge, to a new life of hope. The sun may rise and set, and our nights of sleep, or days of life, may feel like mini-deaths; and yet we believe that Christ is the light of the world that will cast away the works of darkness forever. We believe that life does not end in him, that death no longer has its victory, no longer has its sting.

In times of anxiety and despair, some claim that God is nowhere to be found or to be seen. And yet, taking those two words apart, as we did with the word Advent, the word no-where can easily become “now-here.” God is now here -  in you, in me, in Janet’s art, and in every breath that we take. God is now here: all good, all knowing, all powerful, and ever present. Keep alert, Jesus said. Stay awake, for the holy One is in the midst of us, and hallowed is God’s name.

Today, be a tender branch from Jesse’s tree, shooting forth new life in little evergreen branches. Stand firm in your faith, and as St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Give thanks to God always for the grace of God which has been given to each of us in Christ Jesus who will strengthen us to the end.”

Do not succumb to fear; for Jesus’ words have not passed away, and “in Him there is no darkness at all, the night and the day are both alike.” Sleep at peace. Awake with hope. Wait expectantly; for God is near, God is now here, and in God is our hope and our salvation. Amen.