The risk of promise

There is little that people agree on these days, but I think most of us would agree that things are a mess. Open up the news and you learn that we’re engaged in armed conflict in all corners of the globe – and in our own country. That AI is rapidly being woven into every part of our lives without anyone knowing where it leads. That conspiracy theories are part of normal discourse. That the basics of American government we learned in civics are being shaken up and dumped. We can’t stop arguing about gender. Scientific consensus about the climate, nutrition, vaccinations, population demographics, all of it’s scrambled and up for grabs. Just staying on top of the latest crisis is more than anyone can do – and avoiding it all and keeping your head down, well, that’s not working so well either. How do we make sense of it all, as people of faith? It’s hard to know how to follow Jesus in times like these. It’s tempting to say that in some earlier time it was all easier. And then you open your Bible and your history books and you realize, well. Maybe not. Maybe it’s always a risky time to be a disciple of Jesus.

Today’s gospel story gave us the beginnings of Jesus’ recruiting campaign – when he started to gather the circle of disciples who would follow him through his few years of ministry, and carry that ministry on after he was gone. It’s a small start: two disciples of John, hearing him call Jesus the Lamb of God, start following after Jesus. Jesus turns around and sees them, and they have a short, strange conversation. He says, ‘What are you looking for?’ The disciples reply, not answering his question: ‘Where are you staying?’ Jesus replies, ‘Come and see.’ And so they do.

Something makes those disciples stop following John and start to seek after Jesus instead. It may be that they trust John, and when he says, there’s the Lamb of God, they figure they’d better follow that guy. It might be that they’re just looking for a new teacher – they followed John because they heard truth from him, and now that the truth seems to be elsewhere, they’re going to follow that way. It might be that something has happened, some kind of crisis that has them looking for new answers; maybe whatever John taught them doesn’t feel like enough now, and they need more. We don’t know the whole story. But we know that they’re in for it, once they start following Jesus.

Jesus turns around and asks the two disciples that deceptively simple question, what are you looking for? What are you really looking for? They might answer this any number of ways. It could be they’re hoping for revolution and the overthrow of the Roman Empire, or it could just be they want personal healing. People followed Jesus for all kinds of reasons then – and still do. After all, what is it we’re looking for? Maybe it’s meaning, making sense of life or the world around us in a confusing time. Maybe it’s comfort and companionship, the deep love that comes from being truly known. Maybe we want to make things change in the world, bring about the beloved community we long for. I think each of us would answer Jesus’ question differently, if we were speaking honestly from our heart of hearts.

But the disciples don’t really answer – they say to Jesus, where are you staying? Where can we find you? ‘Cause maybe we’ll look you up sometime. It’s as if they’re saying, We’re looking for certainty: this is where God is, and when I go away and then come back, God will still be right here. Here, in this box, behaving the way I expect. Holding up God’s end of the bargain – if I do the right things and follow the rules, God will do right by me in return.

But in response, Jesus doesn’t answer their question. He doesn’t get out his calendar and say, I’m staying at Joe’s house, why don’t we meet for lunch next week? Instead, he simply says, come and see. Now is a good time, let’s go. It’s the same invitation Jesus gives us: Come and see. No guarantees about where we’re going; he doesn’t confirm or deny what John said. He doesn’t say whether any of what others have said about him, or what we’re hoping for from him, is true. He doesn’t really give any answers. Jesus simply says, come and see. Pretty risky. But somehow, they choose to follow.

This weekend we honor Dr Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday was last week – he would have been 97 this year. Dr. King’s story followed something of this same pattern at the beginning as well – he was a son and grandson of preachers, so in some ways his choice to go to seminary and study was just doing what his family expected. But his father had believed and taught him that racism and segregation were against God’s will, and teachers and mentors had shown him how Christianity could be a force for change. And as he began to walk in the path himself, he saw that more and more clearly. He began as a young pastor of a small church, and only that. But when the Montgomery bus boycott needed a leader, he heard that call and said yes. And that launched him as a leader for the civil rights movement and for the nation.

It was a risky step for Dr. King – 12 years later he would be assassinated in Memphis. It was risky for the disciples to follow along after Jesus too – nearly every one of them was martyred also. And following Jesus has been risky for countless followers of Jesus throughout the ages. Followers of Jesus don’t know exactly where they are going. For most of them, what happens isn’t what they expect to have happen. But the disciples and Dr King and countless leaders and saints and ancestors throughout time have followed Jesus right to the end and beyond, because Jesus is that compelling. When Jesus invites us to come and see, we want to come – we want more, we want his truth, we want the light he shines. There’s no denying that following him is risky. But we want to do it anyway

Paul wrote to the Corinthians in that bit of the letter we heard today, God is faithful. God keeps the promise. We’d rather have the certainties we understand: God in our corner, in our pocket, useful in times of need, making things work the way we think they should. But if we are truly seeking after the living God, we don’t know where that will take us. All we have to go on is what other people tell us, like John the Baptist told the two disciples – follow Jesus, he’s the one. All we have to go on is our own experience, our memories of how God was present to us times past. All we have to go on is our hope for what is to come – the promise of life we are given. The promise that our hope will be taken up and made holy in God’s greater hope for the world.

This world, it is clear, is a mess. There is fear and violence and confusion all around. But here we are, today, in this community of Jesus’ followers, seeking how God would have us live in these times. Here we all are, together on the journey, whatever might come. What are you looking for? Jesus asks. It’s worth pondering, that question. Because we’re all looking. For truth, for peace, for justice, for light, for life. The details of how that plays out, well, that’s in God’s hands. So, says Jesus, Come and see.