SERMON FOR JANUARY 19, 2020, SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY          TEXT: JOHN 1:29-42

          The Gospel of Mark begins with the appearance of John the Baptist and moves within the first nine verses to the baptism of Jesus. Matthew opens his account with the genealogy of Jesus and then relates the events surrounding his birth — the angel’s message to Joseph and his decision to take the pregnant Mary as his wife, the visit of the wise men, the slaughter of the innocents and the flight into Egypt. Luke starts his account with two angelic announcements of pregnancies, one heralding the conception of John the Baptist and the other that of Jesus. He continues with this structure of doubles by telling the story of the two births and the two circumcisions, when the boys were given their names. John begins his gospel with a different birth narrative; he retells the story of creation: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Then John shifts his attention from the eternal to the flow of human history: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world . . . . And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. . . . From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” In less than 20 verses John has moved from the timeless and cosmic to the historical and earthly, from the infinite, unknowable God to the God made known to us in the particular human person, Jesus. “He came to what was his own,” says John. God has in some sense come home.

          Now begins what is for John the second creation. He enumerates the days. On day 1 the religious leaders interrogate John as to his identity, and he assures them that he is not the Messiah. The next day, day 2, Jesus comes to John, who declares “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” Then on day 3 John, who is standing with two of his disciples, once again greets Jesus as “the Lamb of God,” and the two disciples follow Jesus. “The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee,” where he finds Philip, who then fetches Nathanael. That is day 4. On the third day after that Jesus and his disciples go to a wedding in Cana, where Jesus performs the first of his signs, revealing his glory, and John tells us, “his disciples believed in him. After this he went down to Capernaum with his mother, his brothers, and his disciples; and they remained there a few days.” Over seven days Jesus creates a new community of disciples, and then they take a break. “And on the seventh day God finished the work the he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done” (Genesis 2:2). In John’s Gospel the first week of Jesus’ ministry parallels the first week of creation. This symmetry requires explanation for most of us, but it would have been obvious to John’s original readers.

          In today’s Gospel Jesus speaks for the first time. He asks a question, and he offers an invitation. “What are you looking for?” he inquires of the two disciples of John who have followed him. A dear friend of mine, Marty Stortz, has written a wonderful little book on the Gospel of John, entitled Called to Follow (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2017). She points out that this question registers differently, depending on where one places the emphasis: What are you looking for? What are you looking for? What are you looking for? Professor Stortz concludes: “Jesus’ first words signal the Gospel’s concern with seeing things as they really are. The Gospel works on its readers like a series of eye exercises, training them to better see Jesus. . . [He] corrects the vision of people blinded by loss and poverty, power and ambition and he does this by revealing to them their deepest needs and then meeting them. The Gospel is not about losing and finding, but looking and actually seeing.”

          It is striking that the two men to whom Jesus directs this question respond with one of their own, “Where are you staying?” “Come and see,” he replies. They follow him; they remain with him all that day and all the days thereafter. These followers of John become disciples of Jesus. In his company they have glimpsed the answer to his question, “What are you looking for?”    ”We have found the Messiah,” Andrew tells his brother. Now it is their turn to extend the invitation, “Come and see”; come and see for yourself.

          Jesus’ ministry begins with a simple question and an invitation. He addresses them to us today, just as he did to those disciples long ago. He starts with who we are, our need and desire. What are you seeking; where are you looking; what and who do you see? Do you remember that popular bumper sticker that insisted, “Jesus is the answer”? And then there was the response, “If Jesus is the answer, what’s the question?” That’s a good point — how can you know you have found the answer if you don’t know what you were looking for? On the other hand, maybe the answer so freely given could shape what you look for and allow you to see what you could not recognize before. The second creation is still underway. To paraphrase another popular slogan, “God is not done with us yet.” Disciples are made, and then we are remade again and again as we move through the seasons of our lives. We ponder the question, and we heed the call. Evangelism, which seems so awkward and intimidating to many of us, may be as simple as this. Not the off-putting judgmentalism and self-righteousness we too often encounter, or the assumption that we can or should orchestrate a come-to-Jesus moment for someone else.    But an awareness instead of someone’s hunger or hurt and then the question. Not, “Are you saved?” but “What are you looking for?” Followed by the invitation to hope, “Come and see”: come and see for yourself. Amen.