Perception
“Perception”
Easter 4 + Jn. 10:22-30, Acts 9:36-43 + April 25, 2010
Joy Community Presbyterian Church
D. Ross-Jones
It might be helpful to frame today’s message in the words printed at the bottom of the instrument on the passenger-side of your vehicle: “Objects in mirror closer than they appear.” Today’s gospel reading is a matter of perspective, some might say of one’s social location. From up close, one gets a better picture than one far away; and yet the one who is far away might refuse to take a closer look because the image they have is just fine already.
Who is Jesus Christ? On this fourth week after the resurrection celebration, gathered here, we explore our perspective as people to whom God has revealed Godself.
Please pray with me.
Revealing God, through the written word and the spoken word, we pray that you might reveal to us your true and everlasting word, O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
I think I remember the first time I heard my mother called by her first name. Of course, there’s no way to be certain the memory is true or not – the details are far too fuzzy this side of the mid-1980’s – but I do remember being confused at the ordeal. Someone thanked “Robbie” for something. Who was Robbie? Her name is mom, thank you, and if you are having a hard time remembering that then I’ll help you.
The confusion continued when a cousin of mine referred to her as “Aunty Robbie.” Now stop right there: this cousin is the daughter of Aunty Carol. There is no Aunty Robbie, her mom has that title – mine is simply mom.
From the beginning of the gospel of John, the gospel writer has clearly established who Jesus is: the Word of God made flesh to dwell among us. All whom the gospel writer describes in their encounters with the Christ, however, do not share that same conviction. The identity of Jesus and the source of his ministry remains a mystery to some. He is described as “rabbi” or teacher, alongside the name of “messiah” or God-with-us. He is named the King of Israel, a prophet, and the savior of the world. By family vocation, Jesus is a carpenter.
That family is referenced – his birth was to Mary and Joseph, whom the townspeople mentioned knowing in one account: Jesus is called not just the son of God, but son of Joseph. In one other dispute, he is named a “good man” and a deceiver, demon-possessed and prophet.
The authorities question Jesus, and in light of his responses they disparage him as a demon-possessed Samaritan – about the political equivalent in Jesus’ time as ethnically charged epithets directed toward Arab peoples in the United States in a post-9/11 world. Jesus is charged with Sabbath-breaking, some even refer to him simply by name.
All of this discussion about who Jesus is sounds familiar to us, right? In our age of scientific reasoning, subsequent centuries of discovery and archeological research have led us no closer to proof of Jesus’ identity than our fellow humanity two thousand years ago. Claims that Jesus’ speeches were nothing more than manifest mental illness, or questions of his existence at all, are common from certain sectors of the population. Equally abundant are those who might take a more sympathetic view of his humanity, at least, as a good person and moral figure. His connection to the divine might be viewed as one would view a prophet. Finally there is another group of people who still make the audacious claim we profess today, in the resurrection mystery, that Jesus is the Christ – the son of God, the Word become flesh.
How we engage the person of Jesus is a matter of perspective, and vital question for both those included and outside communities of faith.
Robbie is my mom, and my sister’s mom, but she is not my dad’s or my cousin’s mom; likewise she is not my wife or aunt. That doesn’t make her any less of a person, any less real, any less dignified, or worth any less as a daughter of Christ. Quite the contrary; all of the perspectives can shed light on parts of who my mother is, and even with their multitude it is impossible to fully quantify the roles, value, and discoveries of a human being.
And if perspective is that important with mere mortals – how much truer is it of the Divine?
Prior to today’s passage, the gospel writer is providing their own argument of Jesus’ identity. As we enter this story, Jesus’ opponents – whoever they are – demand that he identify himself “plainly,” and in particular to defend his claim of messianic ordination. Not one to pass up a teachable moment, Jesus answers in two parts. (So much for “plainly.”)
First, he says clearly: “I have told you, and you do not believe.” This rings truer, I think, to modern ears than what is to come next. Words are words, and ultimately it is up to the one hearing or reading them to decide for her or himself whether to believe. Like we explored on Easter Sunday, the lack of belief does not equate to a lack of faith; unbelief is, itself, a stronger faith in something else. And so to say that Jesus’ opponents do not believe is not to say they believe in nothing, but simply that they don’t believe what he has said.
And so with this, we can relate. I didn’t believe the other person when they called my mom Robbie, and I didn’t quite believe my cousin when she applied aunty to the front of that. I had a stronger belief in mom.
Put another way, my perspective shaped my belief; nothing else was going to change it.
Jesus’ second defense stands differently from the first: “The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me.” Later on in the gospel, Jesus continues the argument by saying if people do not believe his words, they should get all they know from his examples in works.
This is tricky for us Protestant folks. Saved by grace through faith, not by works, and all that. This side of the Reformation, we place our belief squarely upon words alone, through inspired interpretation, sound reasoning, and square preaching. (Well, I hope you’re getting the first two today, at least.)
But even beyond that, it seems strange for us to comprehend in the modern era. Today’s passage from Acts recounts another example of resurrection. Tabitha, a pillar of the developing Christian community, has died. Peter is summoned, and certain of his divine faith, he is able to bring Tabitha back to life. News of this sign, it is recorded, spreads through the countryside and many came to faith in God.
I have seen a number of miracles over my years, but I’m quicker to attribute them to luck, modern medicine, or situational happenstance than to an inbreaking of the Holy Spirit. After a while, they might contribute to my faith development, but rare is the lightning bolt, light bulb situation that results in, “Yes! This is the truth!”
Equally, there are intellectually stimulating lectures, conversations, books, and other learnings that have shaped my faith, but more importantly has been the perspective of watching the many great mentors going about their Christian journey living as example and testimony to Jesus Christ. Faith cannot be separated from action, for the perspective of example is greater than that of simple words.
One commentator says this best: “As crucial as preaching and worship are, even more crucial is our total ministry. If those around us do not believe the gospel on the basis of what happens on Sunday morning, perhaps they will believe – or not believe – based on what we do the rest of the week.”
I believe my mother is mom not because of birth certificates, DNA, similar features, or any other higher reasons. It is because she acts like mom: raising me, nurturing me, caring for me, providing for me. As disciplinarian, I knew she wasn’t aunty. As caregiver, I knew she wasn’t the next-door neighbor. Her actions led me to belief that she is mom – the one and only.
Jesus concludes his argument of his identity with the claim that he is one with God the Heavenly Father. The dual nature of Christ is most apparent in John of all the gospels, and perhaps most apparent in this sentence. His perspective is not just that of a human being, but one who has been set apart as the only one born of both divine and human status. As reconciler, he alone is the one who can grant eternal life; as teacher, he alone is the one who holds the true message. The reality of Jesus as God-with-us holds in tension the duality of faith and works. In response to or as result of Jesus’ anointing, his “functionality,” we know who he is by what he does. Because of his ministry – both stated and demonstrated – he alone can claim to be united with the Creator.
So, too, it is for us. Our perspective dictates how we will respond to the message of Jesus. Is he a mere human, perhaps plagued by mental instability of some kind? Is he a good example – perhaps even a prophet? Or is he more than that – the true rock, the stem of Jesse’s root, the Christ, God-with us?
And how do we demonstrate our own perspective to others? To a world in need? This is the same Gospel, remember, and the same man who commanded Peter to feed sheep and take care of lambs.
What is their perspective?
Soli Deo Gloria: To God alone be glory. Amen.
Daniel Ross-Jones serves as Minister for Youth & Young Adults at First Congregational Church of Palo Alto, United Church of Christ. Living in the San Francisco Bay Area for a time still measured in months, he is frequently getting lost and discovering treasures of a landscape very different from his Upper Midwestern roots. Green Jello Hotdish is a blog exploring the intersections of his days. 

