Sermon, Sun 24 Feb - 'Who am I?'

READINGS: Mark 8:27-38;  John 7:1-13; John 7:14-31

SERMON
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

One of the great themes of Victor Hugo’s story ‘Les Miserables’ is identity – something we’ll further explore during our discussion group when we begin in a couple of weeks.
Identity:
All through the story, we follow the character of the ex-prisoner Jean Valjean.
We see him not only running from the law,
but at times running away from himself – from who he is.
At times, we see Valjean assuming different identities to help keep him
under the radar of the relentless Inspector Javert, who is obsessed with capturing him.
As the story progresses, we find Valjean eventually coming to terms
with who he is, the person he’s become.
And, he’s been many things depending on who has encountered him:
a rogue,
a wretch in need of a second chance,
a thief,
a prisoner on the run,
a mayor,
a philanthropist,
an adopted parent...
there are many parts to the man.

Now, in one part of ‘Les Mis’, the relentless Javert has been appointed
as Inspector to a small town. He accuses the mayor of being Valjean.
Javert is disconcerted, however, to discover that, elsewhere, in another town,
Valjean has been caught at last and is awaiting trial.
He finds the mayor, ‘Monsieur Madeleine,
and apologises profusely for making his accusations.
Having wronged the mayor, Javert acknowledges that he should be punished,
that he will quit his job as the town’s inspector, and also, quit the area.
Javert then exits, leaving the mayor stunned.
Now alone, the mayor wonders at this odd turn of events,
and the dilemma that he’s faced with, because Javert had been correct:
Monsieur Madeleine, the mayor, is indeed, none other than Jean Valjean.

This case of simple mistaken identity could be
the passport to Valjean’s own freedom –
no more running,
no more hiding...
but also, ...no more ‘Valjean’;
he will always have to live under an alias -
who he is will be truly lost forever.
Thinking of the poor soul who has the misfortune of
looking like Valjean, he asks himself:
‘Who am I?’ 
‘Can I condemn this man to slavery?
Pretend I do not feel his agony
This innocent who bears my face
Who goes to judgement in my place
Who am I?’

After much agonising, Valjean the mayor races off to the other town,
heads for the court where the lookalike ‘Valjean’ is standing trial and reclaims his identity,
in the process, saving the innocent man.
Addressing the judge, he states:
‘Who am I?
I am Jean Valjean!
And so, Honor, 
you see it's true,
That man bears no more 
guilt than you!
Who am I? 
24601.’
The apparent villain of the piece is truly the hero –
Valjean reveals himself to have a noble character;
he's given his life, his freedom, for another.
At the end of the story, he is able to move from the
shadow of being 24601, his prison number,
to being fully restored:
to being Jean Valjean.
It’s not without cost.

Throughout the gospels, in fact, throughout the New Testament,
the major theme is one of identity –
‘Who is Jesus?’
Last week, we thought of the expectations of the crowd, who’d followed Jesus:
we talked of possible hopes and expectations –
what drew them out to see this man?
What were they hungering for?
Tied in with the many hopes and expectations is this matter of identity:
Who is this man?
There’s so many rumours, so many who are whispering about him –
‘he’s this,’
‘he’s that,’
‘he’s the other.’
Our reading from Mark chapter 8 has Jesus asking his disciples
‘Who do people say I am?’
While in our reading from John chapter 7,
we see the whispering and rumour mill working in earnest.
Everyone seems to want to offer their particular ‘hot take’ on Jesus,
but, they’re doing it on the quiet –
fearful of causing trouble...
fearful of the religious authorities,
fearful of the Romans,
perhaps even fearful of daring to believe that what this Jesus was saying...
might just be true.

Our reading in chapter seven probably takes
place around six months from our reading from last week,
when the multitude had been fed with bread and fish.
The religious calendar was moving toward the Feast of Tabernacles,
a big feast – popular – a celebration of harvest.
Those who could, were headed to the Temple in Jerusalem.
We find Jesus in conversation with his brothers:
they don’t really take him seriously,
don’t really believe in all of the strange stuff he comes out with from time to time,
don’t necessarily approve of his lifestyle choices – a wandering rabbi??
He’s the oldest.
He should be more responsible, look out for his family,
keep the family business running like a well-oiled machine,
not go off travelling the countryside.
Perhaps to knock some sense into him, to give him a reality check,
they suggest that if he’s truly serious, he should go up to Jerusalem:
he’d have a much bigger audience to play to than the backwater villages of the Galilee...
‘You want to be famous? Then away you go – and, while you’re there, maybe do a miracle.’
Jesus’ response is to encourage them to go instead.
It’s not the right time for him to declare himself quite so publicly
in what is the centre of power;
he knows that going to Jerusalem too openly will only have one outcome –
a rather final one.
There is still some work to do to prepare for that time.

And yet, in the end, Jesus quietly heads off to Jerusalem and to the festival –
and we see the wide variety of responses,
of plain old gossip in some quarters,
about Jesus and just who he might be.
The religious authorities are on the look out for him –
they’ve already decided who Jesus is... or, rather, who he most absolutely can not be.
They mean to kill him.
Where everyone else is busy speculating about who Jesus is,
they are the only ones asking ‘where' Jesus is.
We move from the religious authorities –
here referred to merely as ‘the Jews’ –
and to the crowd:
‘He’s a good man,’ some say.
‘He’s a deceiver,’ say others.
Later, Jesus begins teaching – speculation increases:
‘who is he and how does he know all this stuff?’
In response, rather than pointing to himself, Jesus points to God the Father –
the One who sent him,
the One whose will Jesus follows,
the One whose teaching Jesus shares with the crowd.
Alongside this, he calls out the religious authorities very publicly:
‘Why are you trying to kill me?’ he asks.
Some now think he’s demon-possessed, others mad.
Some believe his claim, based on the deafening silence of the religious authorities themselves.
‘They haven’t contradicted him – maybe even they think he’s the Messiah?’
The whispers rumble on – and even the Temple guards get caught up in all the speculation:
so much so, that, having been sent to arrest Jesus, they come back empty-handed.
We end this particular section of John with many
putting their faith in him, despite the danger.
Who do they say Jesus is?
Clearly, this last group think he’s the Messiah –
although the kind of Messiah they’re thinking of might not just be
the kind of Messiah that Jesus will turn out to be.

Who do we say Jesus is?
Just as Jesus asked his followers so long ago,
so the question has continued to be asked –
and it’s a question with so many parts to it:
Messiah, yes.
Liberator, check.
Bread of life, yep.
Healer of hurts and mender of hearts...
yes, and yes,
and so much more.
It’s a question we can use to continually inform our own faith,
to help it grow and flourish.
It’s an ongoing, life-long question, as we walk with him in faith.
As we dive into the word – into Scripture –
we discover more about this man,
more about who he is...
A chap called David Lose - a biblical commentator and someone
who I enjoy reading for his particular take on scripture states that:
‘It’s just too easy to misunderstand what “messiah” means. 
We are so inclined to project what we want God to be and do 
that we often miss what God actually has done and is doing. 
We, too, whatever our professions of faith, are regularly surprised 
when God shows up just where we least expect God to be: 
in the cross, in our suffering, 
in our moments of weakness, doubt, and despair. 
This is what “messiah” means – not what we want, perhaps, 
but what we most desperately need.’   [David Lose]
This is ‘who’ God is...

Who do you say Jesus is?
It’s an ongoing conversation.
Want to learn who Jesus is?
Spend time reading his story, seeing who he thought himself to be.
Explore the names he gave himself.
Follow.
And, as you follow, you’ll find your feet time and again
walking the path to the Cross,
and beyond, to Resurrection.
Jesus calls us to walk alongside him;
to walk in faith and discover more about who he is,
and in doing so, who God is.
We’re not called to know all the answers to life, the universe, and everything –
we’re called to follow,
and invited by the very Son of God to ask questions –
to live the questions.
By the by, questions aren’t a sign of doubt,
they’re a sign of honest conversation with God,
with God who asks questions,
and who invites them.

Who do we say Jesus is?
As a community called by him to gather together,
let’s be open to discovery of who we might find when we respond to that question,
and let’s enjoy a life-time of answering it
through our lives, in our prayers, and in our actions –
for at the very heart of who we say Jesus is,
we find love...
Let that love - the love of God - be our guide,
in our service to him and our service to others.
now and always. Amen.