Fifth Easter, 2005:

I majored in sociology at Berea College and took a number of courses in social research methodology.  One of my professors always reminded us to look for the obvious in attempting to explain social phenomenon.  His example was about the little town out near Louisville that had a very high birth rate.  Sociologist began to be intrigued by that fact.  So the Sociology Departments at the University of Kentucky, the University of Louisville, and the University of Cincinnati joined together and wrote a grant proposal to a major foundation to study why this was the case.  They got a huge chunk of money, hired a few additional sociologist, a noted anthropologist, a family planning and birth control specialist, moved to town, rented offices, set up their computers, got squared away, and began to design their questionnaires and such.  While the staff was busy getting ready for their big research effort, the project director decided to go to the local drugstore for a cup of coffee and a doughnut.  He sat at the counter, ordered his coffee and doughnut, and while he was eating and drinking, he struck up a conversation with the druggist who asked what his purpose was in town.  The project director informed the druggist that they were studying why the birth rate was so high and he asked the druggist if he had any ideas to explain the number of little ones running around town?

“Sure,” the druggist said.  “Every morning the six o’clock train comes through here and blows its horn rather loud as it approaches the crossing.  It wakes everybody up, and, well, it’s too late to go back to sleep and too early to get up.”

I’m not sure we would have seen what was obvious in today’s Gospel from John.  Like Thomas, Philip, and the others we, too, may have had difficulty understanding what Jesus was talking about.  Troubled hearts, the Father’s house, preparing a place for them (or us), and coming again, taking us to himself, knowing the way, and the place was analogous to me listening to Einstein lecturing on his general theory of relativity.  Some things just don’t make sense.

Philip could not see the obvious and, so, gives voice to one of humanity’s deepest longings: “Lord, show us the father and we will be satisfied.”  The response Jesus gives to Philip may have something in it to explain why the disciples could not see the obvious.  This response may well be the most staggering thing he ever said.  “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?  Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”

To the Hebrew mind God was so sacred, so set apart, that God’s name could not even be mentioned.  God was so hallowed that only the priest in the Holy of Holies could have access.  No one could look upon the face of God and live.  To the Greek mind God was characteristically the “invisible, the ideal form, the representation of pure Deity.”  And, yet, here is Jesus saying that to see him was to see God.

If we accept any part of that statement as being true it means that God took on our life.  If that is the case, we are allowed to say certain precious things about God.  God entered into an ordinary home and into an ordinary family.  Anyone in the ancient world would have thought, excepted, that if God did come into the world, God would come as the King into some royal palace with the might, majesty, and power that the world calls greatness.  But, God came in the ordinary.  In the person of Jesus God once and for all sanctified human birth, sanctified the humble home of ordinary folks, and sanctified all childhood forever. 

Apparently we can say that God was not afraid of do hard work.  It was as a working man that God entered the world.  Jesus was the carpenter of Nazareth.  We can never sufficiently realize the wonder of the fact that God understands our day’s work.  God knows the difficulty of making ends meet, juggling the demands of family time with the expectations of work, dealing with problems at home or work.  God knows all the problems of living together in an ordinary home and in a big family.  We sometimes forget that Jesus had several brothers and sisters and would have some understanding of sibling rivalry.  In the Old Testament, because of the fall, work is seen as a curse.  In the New Testament everyday work is elevated to the level of being something that can glorify God.

God knows what it is like to be tempted.  The extraordinary thing about the life of Jesus is that it shows us, not the serenity, but the struggle of God.  It is easy to conceive of a God who lived in serenity and peace that were beyond the world.  But Jesus showed us a God who goes through the eternal struggle through which we must go.  God does not lead from behind the lines; God serves on the front line, preparing and paving the way for us.

In the person of Jesus we see God loving.  We know, at the deepest possible level, that when love enters into life pain enters into life, as well.  If we could be absolutely detached from human pain and human sorrow, if we could so arrange life that nothing and nobody mattered to us, then there would be no such thing as sorrow and heartache, and anxiety.  But in Jesus we see God caring intensely, yearning over us, wooing us, feeling deeply for us and with us, and loving us until God bore the wounds of that love upon the heart.

In Jesus we see God upon the cross.  There is nothing quite as incredible as that in the entire world.  It is easy to imagine a God who condemns people, it is easier still to imagine a God who intimidates us, and who, if we oppose, wipes us out.  No one ever dreamed of a God who in Jesus the Christ chose the cross as the way to restore us into a right relationship again.

“Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”  Jesus is the revelation of God and that revelation leaves our minds staggered and amazed in wonder, love, and praise.

And, the most miraculous thing of all is that we are invited again this day to see him in the bread and wine of this Holy Eucharist.  It is that reality into which we baptized Tara this day.  She has come to accept the fact that God loves her that much.  It may not always be so obvious, but it is an awe-inspiring thing to see a God that loves each one of us that much.  Amen.