Why follow Jesus 2000 years after he lived and died? Pastor Brooks addresses this question in this sermon.
Scripture reading—Mark 1: 14-20
Have you ever had a faith question that just keeps popping back up and each time you think, “Hmmm…I am not sure I have got the answer to that one yet?” I have had a question like that for some time. As a pastor I always felt kind of sheepish about it because it would seem like the kind of question that a solid Christian should be able to answer easily. So let me tell you about this question, it came to me some years ago when I was reading an interview with a famous intellectual. He was criticizing academics who continue to recycle the theories of venerated persons who lived centuries ago. Better, newer, more evolved ideas would come along but these academics would still idol worship someone long dead. As a Christian who likes to probe and raise questions about my faith, I soon made the easy leap to asking, “Well, if that is what is being said about persons who lived in the 1800s, couldn’t one say the same thing about Jesus?” I could just hear a critic of the Christian faith saying, “How can it still be relevant if Jesus lived 2000 years ago? Why would anyone want to be a follower of Jesus all these years later?”
I have had lots of thoughts over the years about this, and these thoughts have likely kept these questions from threatening to shake my faith to the core and leave me in spiritual desolation, but at the same time, I have felt like these ponderings were not completely satisfying. I decided to consider the question again this week. In the course of my ruminations, I happened to receive a wonderful visit from a man who was very interested in Arun Gandhi’s visit, and we got to talking about first one thing and another. Somehow we eventually talked about the folklore surrounding a famous Indian mathematician named Srinivasa Ramanujan. Ramanujan is said to have received the answers to difficult math problems in his dreams from the visits of Hindu gods. Inspired by this folklore I decided that what I really needed to do in order to answer my faith question was to take a nap. The local rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker once told our clergy group that a good nap is essential to good sermon writing. While I would never sleep on the job, I thought she might have a point, and so…uh…on my day off…uh…I took a nap…as a spiritual practice! And during this nap, I had this dream…
In the dream, I was a child—actually I could hardly walk yet. I was still crawling around a lot of the time. I lived in a giant mansion, and for whatever reason, there didn’t seem to be a lot of adult supervision. I could pretty much crawl anywhere I wanted to go, and instead of having adults watch me, it was usually me watching the adults with curiosity and fascination. After doing lots of exploring around the house, two big events occurred. First, something terrible happened. I wasn’t sure what it was but the adults around me were suddenly crying a lot, hugging, and wearing black clothes. A continual parade of people came over to the house. They would talk in hushed tones, but occasionally they would laugh and smile like they were telling a good story. The mood in the house got better for awhile, but soon everyone left, and there was a stillness to the house that almost seemed unbearable.
I was left to my own devices for most of this time. I continued to explore the house, but was also starting to feel a bit confined by it. It was at this moment that the second big event happened. One day I was investigating the windows and doors on the back wall of the house when I reached upward and grabbed a gold handle. As I struggled to keep my balance, I pulled down on the handle, and much to my surprise, the door popped open. With my hand still on the handle, I staggered outside into the warm sunshine. A refreshing breeze washed across my face. I felt freed from the captivity of the house, and I felt enchanted by this whole new world that had opened up to me.
I soon discovered I was on a porch overlooking a magnificent garden. The garden had an intricate and ornate pattern of manicured bushes and in the very center of the garden was a giant art project of some kind. It was clearly a work in progress. It was much bigger than any finger painting project I had ever done. A woman who I assume must have been my mother in this dream world was working on it. With much effort, I waddled and crawled my way near to where she was. She didn’t seem to notice that I was there. This didn’t bother me, however, because I was captivated by what she was doing. As if in a joyful, almost trance-like state, she was creating a sculpture…it was the most beautiful sculpture of someone who I could tell meant a great deal to her, someone who embodied the very meaning of love in her life. I watched for hours. Never had I seen anything like it—the sculpture simultaneously warmed my heart and took my breath away.
At about this moment, I momentarily awoke from my dream. It was clearly such an important dream, however, that I knew I had to continue my spiritual practice. For the sake of ministry, for the good of the body of Christ, for the glory of God, I knew I had to continue napping. When I fell back asleep, I again found myself in the garden. This time I was no longer a baby learning to walk. This time I was a full-grown adult. The woman who I assumed was my mother in this dream world was no longer around. Her work of art—her monument to love—was still there. And, it still impacted me deeply. My whole body flooded with warmth.
At this moment, I again awoke from my dream. This time I could sense that my spiritual practice had come to an end, but I still needed to figure out how all of this answered my question. Perhaps, there was some deep symbolism to my dream. I thought about the general outline of the dream as a story. Someone died. Evidently, this someone was both deeply loved and also someone who represented love. A work of art, a monument, a testament to that love, was created that would continue to keep the memory of that person alive. As you might quickly ascertain, there is a parallel between this story and the story of Jesus. For us as Christians, our work of art, our monument, our testament to love is found in the gospels. This is what keeps the memory and spirit of Jesus alive. In this sense, the mother in my dream represents members of the early church who composed and passed along the different stories we have about Jesus.
As I thought some more about the parallels between the dream and the gospels, I thought about how art can render a likeness of a person in a painting or a sculpture but how that likeness isn’t a perfect replica of the person’s body or a high definition photograph capturing every detail of the person’s features. Nevertheless, the likeness captures the person so that their essential features and beauty shine through. I thought about how the gospels are like that. They were never intended to be the equivalent of a historical documentary that captured life just as it was. They were intended to be stories that captured the essential features and beautiful qualities of someone who was deeply loved and who deeply loved others.
I then remembered how really good art is often talked about as having a timeless quality to it. Years and generations after a work is initially produced people visit museums to marvel at it and appreciate its beauty. Art critics might debate what the artist originally intended to convey with the art or what they believe it means. They might have all sorts of ideas, and yet they will never be able to make any definitive claims about those intentions or meanings. Despite this, whenever I listen to an audio tour guide at a museum, I feel very enriched by what art historians and theorists have to say. I am able to appreciate the art much more than I would have otherwise.
In the same way, scholars and us ordinary folk might have all sorts of ideas about who Jesus was. There are some terrific scholars who can certainly help us to appreciate Jesus much more than we might otherwise. One of my favorites is John Dominic Crossan. He was once asked to sum up the story of Jesus in two or three minutes. I will give you an abbreviated and adapted version of what he said: In a world of inequality and injustice, Jesus “offered and lived out an alternative vision.” He also invited others to partake in it, to partake in “a community of free healing and shared eating, a community of equals before God and each other. To women, children, men, to lepers, the destitute, the disturbed, he issued the same invitation: Come eat with me and be healed, and take what you experience to others. That new community was what the Kingdom of God looked like, what the whole world would look like if God, not Caesar, were directly in charge. That is what it means for God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven.” After Jesus died, people continued to experience the workings of God. The spirit of Jesus—the love of God—continued to live. It wasn’t confined to a particular time or place. The historian Josephus reported at the end of the first century that “those who had in the first place come to love him, did not give up their affection for him…and the tribe of the Christians, so called after him, has still to this day, not disappeared.”
Jesus did indeed die 2000 years ago. The thinking of the world has certainly evolved since then. We know a lot more than we did back when they are still writing on scrolls, and yet the gospels are a timeless work. They render for us a portrait of one who was regarded as the epitome of love. All these years later the power of love has not been diminished by our scientific knowledge, our technological prowess, or anything else. It is for this reason that I believe our hearts are still warmed by the story of Jesus. Spiritually, we may grow from stumbling babies to full-grown adults, but the story never fails to impact us as Christians. We might think of this church as our garden. It’s our place of respite and renewal. It is the place we come generation after generation to appreciate and absorb to the fullest and greatest extent the story of Jesus and its testament of love. It is because of this garden and this story that I am a Christian today. It is why I am a follower of Jesus all these years later. Amen.