John 14:1-14

[Jesus said,] “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God. Believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go there to prepare a place for you, I will come again to take you to myself, so that where I am, there you will be also. And you know the way to the place that I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father, also. And from now on you do know him and you have seen him.”

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and still you do not know me? Whoever has seen me, has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father?’ Do you not believe that the Father is in me and that I am in the Father? These words that I say to you I do not speak on my own, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and that the Father is in me. But if you do not, believe because of the works themselves.

“Very truly I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name so that the Father might be glorified in the Son. If, in my name, you ask for anything, I will do it.”

Since it’s NBA playoff season, I came across what is apparently a phenomenon in the world of the NBA post-game press conference: dumb questions, asked by sports writers of NBA players, after a game. There are compilations of them all over YouTube, but I found this one – kind of short and sweet – thanks to Jimmy Kimmel.

So, we’ve all heard, I suspect, that “there’s no such thing as a dumb question.” I’ve said it before, in classes and Bible studies and whatnot; to adults and kids; to other people’s kids and my own, I’m sure. And it’s mostly true. If they are genuine and heartfelt and curious, there really is no such thing as a dumb question. This is the way any good teacher should approach a student; how any mentor should engage a protégé; any guide should embrace a follower; any messiah should encourage a disciple, maybe. But some people – kids and adults alike – and apparently sports writers and reporters after an NBA basketball game – put that notion to the test? (I’m looking at every teacher who’s ever had a Class Clown in their midst. And anyone who’s ever been the Class Clown, too.) There really can be dumb questions waiting to surprise even the most patient teacher or player among us.

Anyway, I kind of wonder if Jesus wasn’t thinking something along these lines when he was being questioned by Thomas and Phillip in this morning’s Gospel. I’m not sure you could call them “Class Clowns,” but Jesus seems sort of surprised, if not exasperated … maybe even disappointed … by their questions.

Jesus offers up what seems to be a preconceived notion, a no brainer, something he expected they would have understood. He’s like, “And you know the way to the place where I am going.” But Thomas gives us our first hint about his doubting ways when he wants to know more. “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. How can we know the way?” He wants a little more clarity, it seems. As is his way.

Phillip wants to see something else, too … something more, something different, something better than what he’s already witnessed. “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied,” he asks. “Come on Jesus, just show us this ‘Father’ you’ve been praying to and talking about and that’ll do it. Just make it clear and we’ll know … it’ll all make sense … then we’ll be satisfied. That will finally make all the difference.”

And Jesus is like, “Guys. You’ve seen it. Don’t you know? Remember when I turned that water into wine? Remember when I drank from the well with that woman in Samaria? Remember when I saved the life of that boy who was sick and that time I helped that lame guy walk after 38 years? Remember when I turned that other kid’s lunch into a feast for 5,000 people? And when I stood up for that woman who was caught in adultery? When I gave that blind man his sight and raised Lazarus from the dead? Remember when I washed your feet, for crying out loud! Have I been with you all this time, Phillip, and still you don’t know me? You still Don’t get it? You still don’t understand? You still don’t see?

In Jesus, what had been invisible could now be seen. In Jesus, the power and presence of God showed up living and moving and breathing, in the world. In Jesus the divine who had here-to-for been unknown became knowable. In Jesus, so many of our questions turned into living, moving, breathing answers.

And the questions weren’t answered by well-crafted sermons, or by theological treatises; by Q & A sessions in between worship services, or with crystal balls, either. Jesus answered the questions of his day and age by all of that living and moving and breathing … by being in the world. I think this is why the disciples didn’t always get it and I think it’s why we miss the point sometimes, ourselves.

Questions about grace were answered when Jesus forgave the unforgivable and welcomed the outsiders others refused to make room for.

Questions about mercy were answered when Jesus healed the sick and shared bread with the hungry.

Questions about justice were answered when Jesus spoke out against the hypocrites and turned over tables in the temple; when he empowered women, welcomed children into his presence, and when he broke bread with outcasts and sinners.

Questions about love were answered by the cross and questions about God’s power over all things were answered by the empty tomb.

What I get out of today’s Gospel – and the questions the disciples raise – is not simple answers, which are always tempting and maybe what we’d prefer. What I get out of this morning’s Gospel is a different way of finding answers. Jesus didn’t sit around arguing about who might be right and who might be wrong. He didn’t debate the theological merits of the questions the disciples were asking. And Jesus didn’t shout the answers or scream the instructions IN. ALL. CAPS. from behind a keyboard, by way of a post on social media.

Jesus became the lessons his life was meant to teach. He practiced and personified the way, and the truth, and the life of faith everyone wanted to know more about.

Jesus didn’t just talk about grace – he extended it to anyone and everyone.

Jesus didn’t just offer up “thoughts and prayers” about justice – he worked for it.

Jesus didn’t just dream about mercy – he shared it.

Jesus didn’t just sit in worship or around tables to read and study God’s Word for his own benefit – he preached and proclaimed it; he passed it around and poured it out in the form of himself, like so much bread and wine, to whoever would receive it.

Jesus didn’t just preach about the love of God, I mean. He embodied it.

And that’s our call, too – for ourselves, for each other, and for the world around us.

This morning, we’re sharing “first communion” with some of our young people and we’re baptizing Clive Blackmon, too. Like Thomas and Phillip, these young people can and should come to us with all kinds of questions about the place and presence and power of God in their lives and in this world.

And I hope they will learn from all of us – not just by what we say and teach and preach, even – but by what they see, feel and experience about the lives of faith they witness among us. They will learn about grace by who and how we forgive one another. They will learn about generosity and sacrifice by why and how much we give of our time, our energy and our money, too. They will learn about justice and service by the work we do in the world. They will learn about love by those we welcome among us.

And so will we.

This can be hard, holy work, for sure. But Jesus promises that we’re up for it … that as believers we will do even greater works than his own. And I believe that, along the way, we will reveal and receive answers about our own faith – maybe even the ones we can’t always put into words – when we live and move and breathe as the very body of Christ – as the very love of God – as the very presence of the divine – in the world, and for the sake of the world, in the name of Jesus who showed us how to do it all in the first place.

Amen

Acts 2:42-47

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone because many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.

Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

“They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to eating and praying together”. That’s how our first reading begins. Who is the “they”? They are the crowd of people gathered around the disciple because of a violent wind, flaming tongues, and hearing different languages spoken on Pentecost. Peter stood up to address the crowd and gave his first sermon, which must have been pretty good because, as our reading from Acts last week noted, three thousand people were baptized and added to the community. If that happened today, we’d say that’s pretty miraculous.

However, it’s what happens next that's really impressive; these three thousand people committed themselves to doing life together. They learned, ate, and prayed together. They shared all their possessions. They sold whatever they owned and gave the money to anyone who had a need. Daily they shared meals together and celebrated all that God was doing. And they had compassion and kindness toward one another.

And remember this wasn’t 3000 people from the same place with the same background who thought the same or had the same cultural practices or anything like that. They were strangers from over 14 different countries. Undoubtedly some were old, some young. Some wealthy, some not. The real miracle isn’t that 3,000 people were baptized. It’s that 3,000 people responded to the gift of grace by doing life together despite all their differences, that’s the miracle. With all our divisions, divides, and individualism of today, something like that is unfathomable for 30 people, let alone 3,000.

It’s fair to wonder, are we given this description of the early disciples as a command, as instructions on how we ought to live? If so, this picture painted of life together repels us more than does compel us… for lots of reasons. Maybe when we were young and idealistic we thought living such a way was possible, maybe even desirable. But now we have families or we’re set in our ways. We are comfortable with our routines, our privacy, our preferences. And we recognize all the sacrifices and accommodations and demands it would place on us.

I mean, if we're honest, We can’t even imagine living this way with our own families in our own homes. We're far too busy with work, and practices, lessons, games, recitals, more work, etc.

Who has time for daily meals together, let alone prayers and teachings and fellowship.

Moreover, we don’t trust other people enough to live like this. Just a couple weeks ago, Tom Orr and the Wired Word class discussed a Wall Street Journal poll that found communal values like religion, community involvement, or having children have all significantly trended downward in the last 20 years. Reflecting on why, David Brooks of the NYT wrote

“My fear is that we’ve entered a distrust doom loop: People are so untrusting of their institutions and their neighbors that they are unwilling to reach out, to actively renew their communities, and so the dysfunction will continue, and the distrust will increase, and so on and so on.”

But perhaps most of all this picture of life together repels us because we feel convicted by it, or at least I do. Deep down, I know I should live more like this, that I should share more meals, open my home, give money to meet the needs of my neighbors, share what's mine with an open hand, and have goodwill toward all people. Maybe i’m not the only one…

However, I don’t believe these verses are rules or specific instructions that Christians must follow. It’s not, if we live this way, Jesus will love us. Notice that all these people were baptized first, then they lived this way. They received God’s grace and love and acceptance first and then because of what they experienced, they committed themselves to doing life together in this way so others may experience what they did.

This way of living shows us what life through the power of the Spirit could be like. It represents the best of what God’s people are capable of. But it doesn’t last long. Soon people in the community will defraud one another, they’ll hold back their resources, they will treat each other unfairly, and after Acts 5, the church is never described with such rosy language.

These verses, this idealized picture, is not meant to be a discouragement, but rather an inspiration: look at what life together could be like, a life full of welcome and hospitality, justice and mutuality, of service and community. Some intentional communities take these verses very seriously and try to follow them to the letter, like the bruderhof communities or houses of hospitality from the Catholic Worker movement.And while not the same, but at our best, we experience some of that life together here: We break bread together, we learn and celebrate together. We provide for each other's needs and the needs of our neighbors: whether that's through our monthly mission focus, our food pantry, or our support to Fondwa, Haiti. We pray, we worship, and we tell others about the God whom we confess.

And it’s no accident that you are a part of this community, at this time and place. In fact, you didn’t choose to be a part of this church. But you’ll say, “Cogan I tried a lot of places before coming here and intentionally chose this place.” To which I would respond, it was the Holy Spirit at work in you that led you to say, “this is where I want to be a part of the Body of Christ.

This is where I heard and still hear the good news of the Gospel: that I am forgiven and loved and grace is mine no matter who I am or who I love or what I’ve done. This is where I am called to do life together with others who have experienced the grace of Jesus, too.

Now to be sure this isn't the only place where this sort of stuff happens. And Life together here isn’t always ideal. Like those early followers, we mess up, we make mistakes, we don’t always agree. But like Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in his book, Life Together,

“even when sin and misunderstanding burden our life together, is not the sinning sibling still a sibling…? Will not their sin (or mine) be a constant occasion for me to give thanks that both of us live in the forgiving love of God? Thus the moment of disappointment with my brother becomes incomparably beneficial, because it teaches me that neither of us can ever live by our own words and deeds, but only by that one Word and Deed which really binds us together, the forgiveness of sins in Jesus Christ.”

What's so powerful about these disciples’ life together was their desire to give of themselves so that others might experience grace just as they did. And what else does the love of Jesus feel like than a good meal with even better company? A celebration full of joy and festivity? Or having your needs met or debt paid by someone else’s sacrifice? That’s the call we have as a community, as a church. To give of ourselves and do life live together in such a way that draws others in so that they too experience grace, no strings attached.

As we approach commitment Sunday, more than any dollar amount you commit to, or any role you volunteer for, or any talent you share, commit to doing Life Together. As one writer puts it, “God does not need possessions and has never been impressed by their donation. God wants people and draws us into that wanting.”

Commit to showing up, to doing meals together, to trusting each other, to praying for and with one another, to meeting the needs of your neighbors, to drawing other people in

because you want them to experience the grace of Jesus just as you have.