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Sermons at
St. John’s Presbyterian Church If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with. St. John’s Presbyterian Church 2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705 Telephone 510-845-6830 Fax 510-845-6837 office@stjohns.presbychurch.net http://www.stjohns.presbychurch.net Scripture Readings: John 19:25-27, Phil. 4:4-8 A woman came into my office to complain about her husband.
He sits around drinking beer and watching TV day in and day out. Then he does
one little thing and expects me to pat him on the back. He doesn't see that
each day there is an endless series of chores. Now the men are thinking, he's
quit preaching and gone to meddling. The three boys in our house have assigned days for doing the
dishes. There is a blessing and a curse
that goes along with the assignment.
For if mom asks for a little extra curricular help, she might hear,
" Mom, it’s not my time". You may remember the first scene with Mary in John’s Gospel,
Jesus says the same thing to his mom.
It is at the wedding at Cana.
Mary pesters her son because the wedding party was about out of
wine. Jesus replies, “Woman, what
concern is that to me and you. My hour
has not yet come.” This is said in such a way that it seems Mary is in the know
from the beginning. She knows her son
has a special role to play, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be helpful along the
way. His hour had not yet come, but his
mom got him to help with the wine anyway. Today we come to Mary’s second appearance in John’s Gospel,
at the cross. This time, it would
appear, his hour has come. As Barbara
Brown Taylor points out, “It is the wine of his blood that is running out this
time, right there were she can smell it.
Fortunately she is not alone. Her
sister is there, along with Mary Magdalene and Mary the wife of Clopas. The beloved disciple is also with her – a
man who is never named in John’s Gospel, although he appears at least five
times. Jesus love for him is the only
thing that matters, apparently. That is
his only identity: that Jesus loves him.
We don’t even know why.” Taylor, a great American storyteller continues to lay the
scene out for us: “Although they are near enough to hear him, he does not seem
to see them at first. There is a lot
going on. The soldiers are dividing up
his clothes into four piles: robe, prayer shawl, belt, sandals. Passers-by are straining to make out the
sign over his head while the chief priests are arguing that Pilate should
change what it says. “But finally Jesus does see them, and when he does, he
speaks. First he looks at his
mother. ‘Woman,’ he says – the same
thing he called her before, at the wedding – ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he looks at the disciple standing
beside her and says to him, ‘Here is your mother.” Since his hands are not free he has to do a lot of work with his
eyes, indicating which woman and which man.
When he is through, the adoption is final. From that hour, John says, the beloved disciple took Jesus’
mother into his own home. “It is a gesture of surpassing sweetness, and yet you have
to wonder which way it went. Was Jesus
looking out for his mother or for his disciple? Who needed whom more? “That Jesus places his mother in the care of his disciple is
our clue that she is a widow. Although
Joseph is mentioned twice by name, he never shows up in John’s gospel at
all. He has presumably died by the time
Jesus reaches adulthood, which makes Mary an ‘almana,’ or widow, whose status
depends on the surviving members of her husband’s household.” She is running out of surviving
members. So it is a gesture of love for
his mother for Jesus to give her another son. It is also
a gesture of love to give the disciple a mother, his mother. She has been through a thing or two, and
intimately knows of the Holy Spirit, of birthing God. That will certainly come in handy when the other disciples come
out of hiding. In their heart
wrenching, life draining shame and grief, she will help them be born again, to
become the family of God. I have mentioned before that the notion put forth by the
novel the da Vinci Code, that Jesus fathered a child with Mary Magdalene, is
far from radical and not a threat to the Church. It doesn’t matter, because the family of God is no longer defined
by bloodline. Royalty and family and
power based on bloodline would be the same old story that wine that runs out
even before the wedding party is over. Isn’t it interesting that John picks wine as the opening
miracle and metaphor in his gospel?
The wine Jesus brings is better, than the wine that ran out. Good wine gets better with age. The implication is that the new wine Jesus
brings is not new; it has been around a while. As John says, He was with God in
the beginning. Through him all things
were made; without him nothing has been made that was made. In him was life, and that life was the light
of all human beings. At root we are all related.
I am the vine; you are the branches. We are all mothers and daughters,
fathers and sons, brothers and sisters.
Every woman is our mother, every child our son or daughter. It is true that as limited human beings we
can only care for a small number of people effectively. We can’t be all places at all times. We can’t be all things for all people. We can imagine that some of the disciples
fled from political turmoil surrounding Jesus death because they felt obligated
to stick around and care for their own families, their own children, and their
own mothers. So too, amongst his executioners,
a few enemies and looki-loos, Jesus died accompanied by his mother and aunt,
and three beloved friends. Some of us too, were not around when someone we loved and
cared for and believed in died, and we know the anguish of the disciples of
Jesus felt when he arrived to find Lazarus already in the tomb. Was there something left unsaid,
undone? Was there something we think we
could have said or done if we would have been there? It is amazing how often such issues of unresolved grief pop
up in our lives in other forms of conflict with other people. But the wine Jesus brings, the forgiveness
and grace of his blood calls us to reconnect with the light of all life. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young have a great song entitled,
“If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with.” In our second passage this morning Paul
seems to be saying, life is too short, let all the anxiety go and rejoice. Yes, choices have been made, we have not
been all things to all people, we have hurt and been hurt, but in Christ Jesus
we are forgiven. Love now, love the
ones you are with. By the grace of God we can resolve to let go of our side of
the bitterness, our side of violence, our side of hatred and prejudice now. We
may not have the Ozzie and Harriet family, we may not have had or been the best
mother or the best son or daughter, husband or wife, the best Christian or the
best American, but we can, to the best of our ability, love in this moment the
people we find ourselves with. We can
be gentle now. We can be positive now,
no matter what our situation, and with prayer and petition and thanksgiving,
present our requests to God. If our
daughter is not with us, then let us love and rejoice with our
granddaughter. If our kids have left
the house or we never had kids, mother your niece or a refugee family from El
Salvador. If most of our life appears
behind us, then let us give thanks for the good times, and live today as if God
were near. Even our last words can
carry our love into eternity. This last Thursday, I went with Karl
up to see his mom Mary Williams.
Alzheimer’s is one of the most challenging diseases for loved ones. How much of our identity is tied up in whom
our mothers remember us to be? And we
wonder what is the value of our care when it doesn’t seem to last? But in this moment there is comfort in
love. Whether we remember or not,
whether we are headed to the mountaintop or the valley of the shadow of death,
whether we are on the cross or on the throne, we can only be loving in the
moment. We cannot go back and stop our
prejudice of yesterday; we cannot act to save the environment for our
grandchildren tomorrow. We cannot go
back and rejoice; we cannot jump into the future to love. Everyday we live is today. Eternity is now. We can only act and love, be faithful and rejoice today. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things, and the God of peace will be with you. |