We See Jesus - Oct. 3, 2009
WE SEE JESUS
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
During an ecumenical gathering, a secretary rushed in shouting, “The building is on fire!” The Presbyterians gathered in the corner and prayed. The Baptists cried, “Where is the water?” the Quakers quietly praised God for the blessings that fire brings. The Lutherans posted a notice on the door declaring the fire was evil. The Roman Catholics passed a collection plate to cover the damage. The Congregationalists shouted, “Everyone for themselves.” The Christian Scientists concluded that there was no fire. The fundamentalists proclaimed: “It’s the vengeance of God.” The Episcopalians formed a procession and marched out. The Methodists appointed a chairperson who was to form a committee that would look into the matter and develop a resolution for the next Annual Conference. And the secretary grabbed a fire extinguisher and put the fire out.
If there is one thing that is very clear about us as religious persons, it is how differently we approach that aspect of our lives. Often it seems that we are determined to focus on our differences and to claim for ourselves or our way the only path to God. As a young girl I was told by some friends that I wasn’t a Christian because I had not been baptized into their church, the “one, true church.” Later an acquaintance was convinced that I wasn’t a Christian because I had not been baptized by immersion as an adult. A seminarian who called himself “born again” said I couldn’t possibly be a Christian because I didn’t have a conversion experience like his. Others have stated that I’m not really a Christian because I don’t share their basic beliefs.
All this probably helps explain why I appreciate this statement made by a professor of theology: “Christians are those who say they are Christian. We may disagree, but it’s up to God to make the judgment.” As for me, I think that when the day of judgment comes, I won’t be asked about my creeds. I won’t be quizzed on what church I belonged to, or which denomination . . . not even if I was Orthodox, Roman Catholic, or Protestant. I will be judged on the basis of whether all of my associations and beliefs brought me closer to God, whether my faith in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior was manifested in my daily living, in discipleship that closely followed Jesus’ teaching, in a life that strived to conform only to his example.
Someone once suggested that we should get religion like a Baptist, experience it like a Methodist, be positive about it like a Disciple of Christ, be proud of it like an Episcopalian, pray for it like a Presbyterian, propagate it like an Adventist, and enjoy it like an AME Zionist. That’s not a bad idea, I suppose, but it still accentuates our differences. God knows how adept we are at doing that.
As I look at our nation I find that we are not just American anymore, we’re hyphenated Americas, distinguished by nationality and race: African-American, Asian-American, Irish-American, Italian-American, Mexican-American, etc. We’re not simply adults, youth, or children; we’re defined by age and generation: Seniors, Boomers, Gen-Xers, Generation Y, Generation Z, and who knows where it will go from there.
As I look at the history of the Church of Jesus Christ, I realize with dismay how briefly – if ever – the Followers of the Way were known only as Christians. How quickly the differences became defining: Jewish Christian, Gentile Christian, and all sorts of what were deemed heretical Christians; Eastern, Western; Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Protestant. Today there is a seemingly endless variety of individual Christians and of Christian churches, sects, communities, and movements, all proclaiming how distinct they are from one another. Sometimes I wonder if the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity that is observed every January or one World Communion Sunday held every October could ever be enough.
Even within our church, the Hyde Park UMC, some of us are conservative Christians, some are liberal Christians, and some are somewhere in between; some like their worship traditional, others contemporary, and still others like it very early in the morning with a weekly dose of Holy Communion. Yet here we are, all of us different Christians, together in this one place, worshiping one God, in the name of one Christ, united by one Spirit. And this gives me hope that just as Jesus directed, we may someday all be one in him. Because whenever varied Christians come together like this, we are reminded that we are more alike than dissimilar. Because whenever we, Christ’s people, gather in his name and for his sake, it becomes clear that what divides us is far less significant than what unites us. Our hope of Christian unity becomes reality as we focus on what we have in common: Jesus Christ.
A story is told of Cyrus, the great ancient Middle Eastern king, and Caligula, a tribal chief who held land at the southern edge of Cyrus’ kingdom. A border dispute erupted into war, and Caligula was defeated by Cyrus’ army. Caligula and his wife were brought to stand before the king to be given the death sentence. Ordinarily that sentence would have been automatic, but something in the regal bearing and manner of Caligula caused Cyrus to engage him in conversation.
“Caligula,” the king said, “what would you do if I were to spare your life?”
Caligula replied, “Sire, I would return to my home a grateful man, and remain your obedient servant for the rest of my life.”
“And,” the king continued, “what would you do if I were to spare your wife?”
“Oh, sire,” exclaimed the chieftain, “if you would do that, I would gladly give my life for you.”
So impressed was Cyrus that he required of Caligula only an oath of allegiance and allowed the couple to return to their home. Safe at home a few days later Caligula and his wife were talking about their experience in the king’s palace.
He said, “Did you notice all the marble walls in the king’s palace?”
“No,” she said, “I didn’t see them.”
He asked, “Did you see all the magnificent tapestries?”
“No,” she answered, “I didn’t see them.”
“Well,” he continued, “surely you saw the beautiful golden throne the king sat on?”
“No,” she responded yet again, “I didn’t see it.”
“What did you see the day we stood before the king?”
“I saw only the face of one who said he would die for me.”
The marbles, the tapestries, the gold – the differences of opinion, the diversity of understandings, the variations of tradition – they all fall away when we look upon the face of the One who said he would die for us . . . and did: Jesus Christ.
We don’t all see eye-to-eye on matters of faith. “ . . . but,” the author of Hebrews writes, “we do see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.”
When the world gathers this day at the table where Christ is the host, all our differences fall away, and all sit at the table together, for we remember and celebrate that Christ and Christ alone is our salvation and our peace. We see the one who died for us all. We see Jesus. We come to his table, not as a particular denomination or nationality, but simply as Christians.
We may not agree on matters of doctrine and polity, on where and when and how to worship, but we have Jesus’ assurance that whenever and wherever we gather in his name, he is there among us. We may take different routes to get to heaven, but we have this promise in John’s Revelation: that all faithful servants of Jesus will get there, and we will see him face-to-face, and his name will be on our foreheads. The only name upon us will be his. Isn’t that what Christ asks of us in this life as well?
John Wesley once told of a dream in which he stood at the gates of hell. He asked the gatekeeper if there were Catholics there. “Many,” was the answer. “And Presbyterians?” “Many,” was again the answer. “And Methodists?” “Many.” Later he stopped before the gates of heaven where he asked the same question. “There are no Catholics, no Presbyterians, no Methodists here,” was the answer. “Only Christians.”
That’s the way Christ meant it to be.