This morning our congregation worshiped using an order of service with lessons and carols based on the "O Antiphons." Most will be familiar with these antiphons from John Mason Neale's hymn "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," from the Latin "Veni, veni Emmanuel." Thus we did not use the appointed texts for the 4th Sunday of Advent, but rather several from throughout Holy Scripture. The passages are: Isaiah 40.3-5, Exodus 6.2-7a, Isaiah 11.1-10, Isaiah 42.5-9, Luke 1.68-79, Isaiah 35.4-7a, Isaiah 7.14.
Fifteen years ago, the summer Bible study for Nebraska Lutheran Outdoor Ministries was titled, “Who Are You, Jesus?” Each of the five sessions of the Bible study used one of the “I am” sayings from the gospel of John as its theme: “I am the bread of life, I am the light of the world, I am the good shepherd, I am the resurrection and the life, I am the way, the truth and the life.” Even then, as a college sophomore just beginning my adult journey of faith, I remember thinking that this would probably be a question Jesus and I would be answering for the rest of my life. In the years since that summer, I’ve discovered that I was right. I still struggle to know who Jesus is, for my life and for the life of you who have called me “Pastor.” In some ways, the question “Who Are You, Jesus” is the central question of everything we do as a church – and if it is not the central question, then one could easily make the case that we’ve been distracted by other, less important questions.
Two thousand years ago, a people in darkness had different questions. Instead of asking “Who Are You, Jesus?”, they were begging, “How long, O Lord?” They were wondering, “When will Messiah come?” They were pleading, “Lord, deliver us!” “Lord, be our wisdom!” “Come, O King of mercy!” “Rise up, O Root of Jesse!” “Shine out, O light of heaven!” God had promised a Savior, an anointed One, a child born to redeem God’s people and to be a light to all nations. But the years had been long since God had spoken. The people who had grown from Abraham and Sarah’s miracle had grown accustomed to the long defeat of life lived under the strength of other nations, who worshiped other gods and laughed at Israel’s dreams. Even the prophets had fallen silent. Here was a people who did not have the luxury of asking, “Who Are You, Jesus?” They asked, “Where are you, Lord? Do You even hear our cries?”
It was into this world that the Savior was born. Hope was given to a people who had no hope. Light was given to a people who sat in deep darkness. Life was given to those surrounded by the death of all they held dear. But when God answered the question, “Where are you, Lord?” the answer was not what the people had thought they wanted to hear. The people who wanted a king were given a carpenter’s son. The people who wanted majesty and glory were given a child born out of wedlock in a stable. The people who wanted general who would restore Israel’s position through power and might were given a teacher who insisted that God’s people were called to serve the world in humility and self-sacrifice. God’s answer to the question “Where are you, Lord?” led to new questions, new fears, new hopes and new dreams, all falling under the one main question: “Who Are You, Jesus?” That question has remained with us in all the years between the coming of Jesus and our time here, today.
“Who Are You, Jesus?” We gather today to hear God’s word answer this question in many different ways. Jesus is the King of the Nations, the Dayspring of God’s light, the Key of David, Root of Jesse, Wisdom of all Wisdom, Lord Adonai and ruler of the house of Israel. But these words cannot answer the question completely. We know that our Lord Jesus will break out of whatever boxes we may construct out of words to hold our Lord and Savior. Our words today point us toward something greater, something more wondrous than we can imagine: Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us, eternity enfleshed in our lives through the power of the Holy Spirit, and no words can do Him justice, no matter how beautiful they may be. We aren’t here to answer questions this morning: we are here to praise the One who inspires such wonder and tenderly invites us to question the very power that gives us life.
“Who Are You, Jesus?” We are not alone in our quest to answer this question. Twenty centuries of faith, doubt, attack, defense, fear and hope haven’t answered the question for us. The church has grown from a small band of men and women to billions upon billions of followers through two thousand years. Yet even with all the faithful who have gone before us cheering us on, the question cannot be answered for us. I cannot answer the question for you, and you cannot answer the question for me: the best any of us can do is bear witness to the ways in which Jesus is answering the question in our own lives. I cannot tell you who Jesus will be to you: I can only tell you who He is to me, what He has done for me, how He continues to live and act and move in me, how I hope you will experience the same deep, true love which Jesus has given to me. I can only tell you that however I may answer the question today, I know this for certain: whoever Jesus is, He is first of all mine, my Lord, my God, and my Savior. He came to give me love and I can never praise Him enough for it, though I should sing His praises to the end of all time. He lives in me through my baptism and I pray, with all of creation, that one day I may live with Him in righteousness and blessedness forever. Today we praise His name and we ask the question: “Who Are You, Jesus?” We pray, also, that as we offer our songs of praise, God with us will fill our hearts with the grace and mercy that, in the end, give us all the answer we need. Who Are You, Jesus? You are God With Us, Emmanuel, and we ask you to be with us again here, today. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment