Jesus answered [Judas - not Iscariot], “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me.

”I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I am coming to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.

John 14:23-29

Pastor Marc's sermon on the Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 26, 2019) on John 14:23-29. Listen to the recording here or read my manuscript below. 


If you were given the chance, would you question the Son of God?

Now, on one level, the answer to that question seems obvious. If Jesus, aka part of the Trinity, aka God, showed up in a form we could easily talk with, why wouldn’t we ask him a question? Scripture tells us that he was there in the beginning; that all things were created through him; and that he’ll be there at the end, shining bright in the everlasting city of God. Who else could tell us more about whatever we have questions about? Yet that reality of Jesus might also be what causes us to sort-of hesitate when it comes to questioning God. Because, as we just heard, Jesus is connected to everything. And since he’s connected to everything, that also means he’s connected to you and to me. Jesus can do more than merely recognize us from across a crowded room. Jesus’ relationship with us means that he already knows us, including everything that makes us who we are. Jesus not only knows the questions we want to ask; he also knows why we want to ask those questions in the first place. Any answer Jesus gives us is also going to address all those other questions lurking underneath the surface. All our insecurities, all our fears, and all those things that make us vulnerable - everything that’s part of why we wanted to ask Jesus that question in the first place - is going to be included in Jesus’ answer. Our attempt to get Jesus to tell us more about what we want to know might also, in the end, tell us more about ourselves than we’re quite ready to understand.

In today’s reading from the gospel according to John, we find ourselves listening to Jesus as he, once again, answered a question. Jesus had gathered his friends together for a meal knowing that he about to be arrested, tried, and killed. He wanted to prepare his friends for what life would be like when their experience of Jesus changed. So Jesus spent several chapters talking to his friends. Now, we might imagine, based on Jesus’ other sermons, that this preparation would involve Jesus talking at people while they, primarily, just listened. Yet that wasn’t the case here. In fact, the first parts of Jesus’ long conversation was filled with the disciples asking questions. “First Peter (John 13:36), then Thomas (14:5), then Phillip (14:8), and then Judas (a different Judas - not the Judas who would betray Jesus) (14:22) [asked] for clarification about what Jesus [was] telling them.” The disciples knew that there was a time to be silent and a time when they had to speak up. So after listening to Jesus talk about what life would be like once he died, rose, and ascended into heaven, Judas asked Jesus to tell him more. In the verse right before the ones we just read, Judas asked: “Lord, how is it that you will reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?” Judas, I think, wanted some kind of sign letting him and the rest of the community know that Jesus was still with them. If their experience of Jesus changed, how would they know that their time with him mattered? How could they learn to accept the three years they spent following Jesus throughout Galilee and Judah only to watch him die on a Cross? And how would they justify their relationship with Jesus if the only thing they were left with were memories while they sat locked in a room, afraid?

A few days ago, I found myself listening to the author Kelly Corrigan while she was being interviewed on a podcast. Kelly is the author of several books including The Middle Place, a memoir describing her and her father’s simultaneous experience of cancer - an experience she survived and he didn’t. She’s also a parent who, like many of us, has developed phrases she uses all the time to help her with her kids. The interviewer, after listening to Kelly describe her own story, asked her to talk more deeply about one of her go-to phrases: “tell me more.” It’s a phrase Kelly has used over the years to uncover those questions under the question. Like many of us, when someone comes to us upset, frustrated, or a little hurt - our instinct is to try and fix whatever problem they have. So within the first ten seconds of the conversation, we find ourselves immediately giving advice or feedback or our opinion on how they can “fix” whatever it is. Instead of waiting to hear their whole story, we jump in at the very first thing they said. We end up leaving those kinds conversations feeling proud ourselves for the advice we gave while the other person feels as if we didn’t listen to them at all. The first words in these kinds of conversations are rarely the real question that needs to be answered. When we find ourselves interjecting and immediately trying to “fix” the problem we think we heard, the phrase “tell me more” helps us listen more deeply and completely. Those three little words can create a safe space where the other person can reveal their vulnerabilities, their fears, and their insecurities. And as the rest of their story unfolds, an opportunity for more meaningful questions and connection comes to light. When we say “tell me more” and when spend time asking clarifying questions, we might even help the other person discover the solution they didn’t think they already had. Or when a situation arises where no solution is possible, the words “tell me more” can create an experience where a person feels heard, valued, and above all, loved. When we seek out the “more” of the story, when our questions are less about looking for a solution and more about forming a deeper connection, then something holy is created. We end up being more than just a good friend; we find ourselves living into our identity as followers of Jesus because the love He gives shines through the lives we live.

Throughout Jesus’ story, we see disciples, religious leaders, gentiles, moms, dads, the sick, the poor, the wealthy, and even demons asking Jesu  questions. As scary as it might be to ask the One who knows you that one question burning on your lips, asking questions is what the faith-filled life is all about. We are called to not only ask questions in our prayers or at Sunday school. We’re also called to ask these same questions to each other as we all struggle to figure out what following Jesus is all about. The questions you ask are holy, beautiful, and exactly what they should be. And the rest of us gathered around you are called to treat your questions well and to invite you, in a spirit of love and care, to tell us more. Because when we safely share our story with one another, we discover that our real love for each other is the true sign of Christ’s presence that Judas asked Jesus for.