May 14, 2017 – Dwelling in Christ Sermon

For May 14, 2017, the fifth Sunday of Easter in lectionary year A, the Gospel reading is John 14:1-14. We also read Psalm 31:1-8.

Although I don’t post funeral sermons online, I’ve preached four sermons on this John 14 text in the last year. My challenge for this sermon was preaching this outside of a funeral context.

For the second half of this sermon I am heavily indebted to Pastor Tim Brown’s sermon “On Dwelling” from three years ago on the same text.  This post from Dr. Karoline Lewis on “Saying Goodbye” was also helpful in thinking about the point of Jesus’ farewell discourse as the promise of ongoing relationship.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

As you may have noticed, we’re jumping out of order today for our readings. In the church year, we’re between Easter and Pentecost, and I suspect when the lectionary reading order was put together, they weren’t quite sure how to fill this space. We just don’t have that many stories of what Jesus was up to after the resurrection before he ascends into heaven.

So today, for the fifth Sunday in the Easter season, we get a gospel reading from John 14, and we’ll continue from here next week.

This reading with Jesus talking to his disciples actually comes right after he’s washed their feet and given them the command to love and serve one another as he has loved and served them. He knows the next step will be his betrayal and arrest, so this is his last chance to talk to his friends before his death on the cross. This is Jesus’ farewell speech.

Now, some of my favorite characters in the Bible are the disciples, because they’re great examples for us. They give up everything to follow Jesus; after his resurrection they’ll go on to start the church, they pass on Jesus’ teaching so we can follow him today, they’re great examples of faith.

All that’s good. But what I appreciate most about them is that they don’t always get it.

Jesus’ farewell speech doesn’t go well. He starts off with this beautiful promise that he goes ahead of them to prepare a dwelling place for them in God’s house. He says, “I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.”

It’s beautiful and profound and comforting, and it’s also abstract and vague and bewildering. And Thomas interrupts him. Remember, this is the same Thomas who later will want concrete proof of Jesus’ resurrection. This is the guy who will insist he needs to see and touch the wounds from the cross before he’ll believe Jesus has been raised from the dead. Thomas is a logical thinker. He wants to understand.

This is what I love about the disciples, especially Thomas, because I’m the same way sometimes, but I’m more timid about it. I’ll listen to all the directions for a project or an activity, misunderstand something, and not ask for clarification. I hate the idea of someone else knowing I don’t understand.

Fortunately, Thomas is the opposite. He has no problem admitting when he doesn’t get it. He interrupts Jesus and says, “Lord, we have no idea what you’re talking about.” What a wonderful example!

The problem is that Thomas is stuck on the idea of a place, a physical location. He’s afraid Jesus is saying he’s going to travel somewhere and Thomas will get separated and miss a turn and not know how to get there.

Philip, meanwhile, is just as confused. Philip really wants to know what God looks like, to see God. He wants to know what God will look like when they get there. He doesn’t realize God is standing right in front of him.

When they ask their questions, Jesus doesn’t give them the answer they’re looking for. He doesn’t give Thomas a map, and he doesn’t give Philip a mug shot or a formula to visualize God. Instead, he gives them himself.

Thomas is complaining that Jesus hasn’t explained everything well enough, thinking maybe he’s missed something important, that maybe he’s missed a key step in the process. He’s doing exactly what Jesus said to not do, worrying and letting his heart be troubled. Jesus answers him by saying, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”

Instead of giving answers, he gives them relationship. Relationship is what this is all about.

The point of Jesus’ farewell address to the disciples is to let them know his death is not going to end their relationship. It’s also the point of John’s entire gospel. Being a disciple means abiding in Christ, dwelling with God.

As we talked about last week, the reason Jesus came, according to John, was so we could have abundant life. And that abundant life is found in relationship with God, and that relationship comes through Jesus.

John began his gospel by telling the story of the eternal Word becoming flesh. God came to dwell with us in the person of Jesus Christ. That’s the Christmas story. That means, as Jesus tells Philip, that whoever has seen Jesus has seen the Father. God has made God’s home among us. Having a map to God (like Thomas wants) or seeing God’s face (like Philip wants) might be nice, but it’s not necessary, because Jesus is God in the flesh.

Now, as Jesus prepares to die, he invites the disciples to consider what it means to dwell with God.
What does it look like to live in the place God has prepared for us? What does it look like to live in the way God intends for us?

Where do you dwell right now?

Some of us dwell in fear, wondering what’s happening to the world. Some of us dwell in constant anxiety, some in constant guilt. Maybe you find yourself dwelling in stress, or in a broken relationship that grabs hold of your life and stops you from doing anything else.

Perhaps you’re dwelling only in others, living life through accomplishments and drama of children or friends. Perhaps you dwell in the security of your bank account, a place as fragile as anywhere else.

Sometimes I find myself living in my cell phone or computer, oblivious to the real world around me. Sometimes it’s dwelling in my own head, worrying so much about what others think that I lose my own voice. Sometimes we dwell in memories, focusing on what once was, or the opposite, looking forward to the future so much that we miss the present.

Jesus invites us to dwell in him. We are meant to see ourselves as dwelling with God, and to see God dwelling within us. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, the one in whom we live and move and have our being. As Psalm 31 puts it, we seek refuge in the Lord. We trust in the Lord to be our fortress, our rock, our shelter, our home.

There is a place prepared for you in your Father’s house, a place where Jesus invites you to dwell, to rest in his love. And although I think of funerals when I hear this text, this is not just about life after death. God has come to us, broken into our world, come to dwell among us.

When we’re dwelling in God, everything else comes into perspective. Fear and stress and broken relationships and insecurities are still realities of course, but they don’t define our lives. Dwelling in God’s life means we can live our true identity as children of God, claimed and called by name by our Father.

We are made to dwell with God, to walk with each other on Jesus’ way. This is not just about the future. In his farewell speech, Jesus offers his disciples hope to get them through the next few days, and then through the rest of their lives. Even without his physical presence with them, he continues to dwell with them, and with us. The relationship continues.

“Very truly I tell you,” Jesus says, “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.” We do greater works because we continue to grow in relationship.

As we dwell more and more with our Lord, we are set free to live and serve and witness to God, to invite others to dwell in the abundant life of God.

May the peace of Christ which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds dwelling in the love of God, now and forever.
Amen