Kevin and I have been married for 30 years, and we are familiar with each other’s interests, concerns, and eccentricities. When I was in seminary, I often spent the entire evening—the time Kevin was home from work—in the school library, reading for classes, studying for tests, writing papers. At 10 o’clock, as the library doors were being locked, Kevin would meet me and walk me back to our apartment, on the other side of the campus. Sometimes, that 15 minutes was the only time we spent together, fully engaged with each other. Perhaps we thought this comfortable, familiar relationship of ours did not need our tending.
Now that Kevin is in Clinton for several days a week, we are more intentional about spending time together—together in conversation on the phone each night, together exploring this part of Kansas on Thursdays—our Sabbath—and together at mealtimes when he his here. We now realize that which is familiar and comfortable still needs our attention.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NRSV) How many of you have memorized this verse? This verse is so familiar, it may be tempting not to tend to it. This verse is so familiar, it may be tempting not to scrutinize it, not to consider it in light of the verses around it, not to consider it in light of the entire gospel of John.
This gospel was written to a particular community of Jewish Christians near the end of the 1st century. They found themselves in open, direct conflict with the synagogue authorities in their town. John’s audience had been ex-communicated—kicked out—of their synagogue. They were experiencing the loss of all connections with their family and friends and with the religious center of their upbringing. This gospel was intended to encourage the members of this community of faith during this conflict. It was written to inspire them to hold onto their belief that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God.
While the other three gospels might be considered narratives, John’s gospel is a composite of long discourses by Jesus. John uses metaphors. This is not a gospel to read and interpret literally. In order to understand this gospel, we have to tend to it. We have to dig deep into the entire book. We have to ask questions.
For example, why does John talk about condemnation and judgment immediately after spelling out God’s loving and generous gift of God’s only son? Perhaps it’s John’s dig at the Jews who have refused to believe that Jesus is the Messiah. They are the unenlightened ones relishing the dark rather than seeking the light. Perhaps it’s a jab at the Jewish religious authorities who have slammed the doors shut on members of John’s community of faith. They are condemned, to not enjoy eternal life.
And what does John mean by “eternal life?” It is one of one of the dominant themes in his gospel. Eternal life is not so much about quantity—living forever. Nor is it something that will occur later—in the believer’s future. Eternal life is about quality of life. Eternal life begins here and now. It is “life as lived in the unending presence of God.[1]” Having eternal life means being transformed.
And what about “believe”? Every time I read a portion of this gospel, I encounter the word “believe.” We hear it in verses 15 and 16 and 3 more times in verse 18. So what does “believe” mean in this gospel? Does it mean to accept a set of propositions? Is “believing” all in your head—an intellectual exercise? Not for the gospel writer John. For him, “believe is an action verb. It is something you do.”[2] Believing means trusting and acting on that trust.
Trusting: we’ve seen examples of trusting in each of the covenants we’ve looked at the last 3 Sundays. God promises Noah that never again will God destroy the earth with a flood, and Noah trusts God. Noah and his family leave the ark. They set the animals free. They till the ground and tend to the livestock and build a home. They start life over because they trust God’s covenant, God’s promise.
God tells Abraham to leave his home and his family of origin in Ur and to journey where God will lead him. God promises Abraham a new homeland and after arriving there, descendents that will number as the stars in the sky. So Abraham and Sarah pack up their belongings and herd their sheep, setting off to—they do not where. They journey for years in lands unknown to them—trusting God to guide them from one oasis to another, trusting God to keep them safe among foreigners, trusting God to ultimately give them a child of their own. Abraham and Sarah trust God’s covenant, God’s promise.
God promises to make the newly-freed Hebrew slaves into a single, united, holy people. God offers them the covenant of the law which will guide their living together and their worship of God. The covenant of the law will form them into the people set apart for God’s divine purpose. Trusting God, Moses leads the people—upholding the law and relying on God’s provision as they wander in the wilderness. Moses and the people trust God’s covenant; they trust God’s promise. Trusting: we’ve encountered examples of trusting these Sundays in Lent.
For the evangelist, John, believing means trusting. Believing is proclaiming Jesus is God’s Son, the Messiah even when it means being thrown out of the synagogue. For John’s readers, believing means trusting—trusting that even when all previous ties are severed—ties with their family, ties with their friends and ties with their religious community, they are living in the unending presence of God. John writes his gospel to encourage his community of faith to trust God’s covenant of grace—that through Jesus we are saved for eternal life.
Trusting—in what ways are we called to trust, to act our faith? Could praying be an act of faith? Can we pray for God to guide this congregation into the mission God has planned for us, trusting our prayers will be answered? Can we work and play and live in this community with eyes and ears and hearts open to needs. Can we offer them in prayer expecting God to help us know which are the needs God empowers us to meet—both as individuals and as a congregation?
Could encouraging be an act of faith? Can we encourage people to share their gifts—teaching, gardening, reading, leading, coordinating, singing? Can we encourage those who teach, care for our grounds, lead our worship, guide our committees, plan our activities—trusting that we can look outside of ourselves and gratefully acknowledge another person’s gift?
Could volunteering be an act of faith? Can we volunteer to sort clothes in the Thrift Shop, to prepare a meal for someone on our prayer list, to transport donated food to the PACA food bank, to teach Vacation Bible School? Could joining be an act of faith? Can we join a study, join a workday crew, join a committee, join our worship team? Could volunteering and joining be acts of faith—trusting that it will be okay to try something out—just for a little while, trusting that if we volunteer for this now, we can still say “no” later. Trusting that even if we’re tired, working and playing and visiting and serving with our 1st Presby friends—may be an energy boost rather than a drain?
Could making ourselves vulnerable be an act of faith? Can we share with one another when we are lonely and need a visit, when we are sick and need some tender loving care, when we are sad and need a shoulder to cry on? Can we be vulnerable with one another, trusting that here, in this faith community, we will be held in loving non-judgment—trusting that our feelings and our words will be held in confidence. Trusting that here we will find friendship?
Could talking with and listening to one another be an act of faith? Can we communicate respectfully, directly, and openly with each other—trusting that our feelings will be valued, our words will be heard, and we will still be accepted and loved?
Trusting—stepping out into the unknown of a new program, a new project, a new relationship, a new opportunity—trusting is an act of faith.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”(John 3: 16 – 17 NRSV) God’s immeasurable love demands response. Will we trust—acting out our grateful response? If we do, we will enjoy life in the unending presence of God—eternal, abundant life that begins now. In other words, we will be transformed. And perhaps we will also help transform the world.
[1] Gail R. O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” in The New Interpreters Bible: a Commentary in Twelve Volumes. Vol. XI. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995. p. 552
[2] W. Hulitt Gloer, “John 3: 14 – 21: Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, volume 2. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008. p. 119
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