Everything We Need

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on John 14:15-21.


Today’s passage is one of the several that serve as the basis for the doctrine of the Trinity. Looking ahead, John Nipper will be preaching on Trinity Sunday, sparing me from the burden of trying to explain it. Hey, he has a doctorate, so he should be qualified, right? If you’d like a good laugh, there’s a video from Lutheran Satire called “St. Patrick’s Bad Analogies.” Basically, every analogy we can come up with has been declared heretical, so we’re left with these complicated explanations like in this passage. Jesus says, I will send the Spirit, and he will be in you, and you will be in me, and I will come to you, and you will know that I am in my Father and I am in you.

OK, I give up. I’m not going to try to explain the Trinity. But I do feel an obligation to talk about the Holy Spirit. Jesus says he will send the parakletos. What the heck is that? This Greek word has a broader range of meaning than any one English word can really capture. All of our attempts to translate it either overshoot or undershoot the meaning. The King James Version uses “Comforter,” which sounds like a blanket. Other translations include “Helper,” which makes him sound subordinate. The NRSV that I just read uses “Advocate.” Now, that has a bit of a legal connotation, which is maybe overstated relative to the Greek, but let’s see where that can take us.

Are you all familiar with CASA? CASA stands for “court-appointed special advocate.” There is a national organization that covers both CASA volunteers and guardians ad litem, which are just slightly different because every state’s laws are different. But they all follow similar principles. From the National CASA/GAL website,

CASA/GAL volunteers are appointed by judges to advocate for children’s best interests. They stay with each case until it is closed and the child is in a safe, permanent home. We serve children from birth through the age defined by state statute as the limit to youth remaining in care.

Volunteers work with legal and child welfare professionals, educators and service providers to ensure that judges have all the information they need to make the most well-informed decisions for each child.

National CASA/GAL Association for Children

The CASA program grew out of an observation by a Seattle judge that he simply did not know enough to decide what was right for a particular three-year-old in his courtroom. Cases of abuse and neglect are complicated. Rarely is there an obvious villain and an obvious hero. Often, judges need to choose among a bunch of bad alternatives, some of which may appear to be better even though they are actually worse. I mean, it may make sense that a relative who has more financial stability is a better home, but not if their interpersonal dynamics are inappropriate and not conducive to the child’s healing and growth.

Another aspect of these situations is that often, the child is not really aware of what is in their best interest. An attorney assigned to represent the child is obligated to follow the child’s wishes. Well, they may choose a bad situation they know over a good situation they don’t know. This Mother’s Day, we should remember that some mothers are wonderful and provide a safe, loving, stable environment where a child can thrive; some mothers are wonderful but in bad circumstances due to other people in their lives or economic misfortune; some mothers are abusive, or suffer from addiction or mental illness, or are otherwise unable to provide a safe and loving environment for their children. A CASA volunteer helps the justice system work through those issues and find the best outcome for the child.

The website describes a five-point process:

  • Learn: Learn all you can about the child and his or her family and life.
  • Engage: Engage with the child during regular visits.
  • Recommend: Speak up for the child’s best interests in court. Make recommendations regarding the child’s placement and needed services, and monitor the child’s situation until the case is released by the court.
  • Collaborate: Collaborate with others to ensure that necessary services are provided and are in the child’s best interest.
  • Report: Report what you have learned and observed to the court.

When I read this, I thought, What a great model for the action of the Holy Spirit! She is our Advocate, specially sent by the other two Persons of the Godhead to dwell with us until we are safely home. She learns all she can about us, which is everything. She dwells in us, walks with us, and watches over us. She advocates for our best interests in the world.

Elsewhere, Jesus advised his disciples that when they were in trouble, they shouldn’t make up in their mind ahead of time what they should say. Instead, they should let their hearts, minds, and words be guided by the Spirit. All throughout our lives, we can be sure that the Holy Spirit is there beside us, within us, ensuring that if we let her, she will work for our best interests.

Collaborate: A CASA volunteer collaborates with others to ensure that necessary services are provided. In the same way, the Holy Spirit binds us to each other, so that we can support one another. He knows that none of us can accomplish much on our own, even with God’s help, but we can change the world if we work together. We each have skills and talents. We each have connections in the community and a variety of roles in a variety of organizations. The Holy Spirit knows all of this, and enables us to work together to build God’s kingdom. He knows that we are all differently gifted, but each gift is an important part of God’s work. For example, our nominating committee discerns who would serve well as an elder, who would serve well as a deacon, and who would serve well as a trustee. They’ve done a great job, most recently in nominating Melba, who so obviously has the skills and attitude of a deacon. Our PNC needs to discern which pastoral candidate has the particular gifts that this church needs today. I have confidence that they will do so, as long as they remain connected to and guided by the Holy Spirit.

Yet in a sense, we already have the pastor we need. When John Oerter was here, he clarified that he was an interim pastor rather than an installed pastor. Pastors come and go. Just in my time here, we have had multiple interim pastors and two installed pastors. Remember, everything is temporary; whether installed or interim, none of them were permanent. But we do have a permanent Pastor: the Good Shepherd, the one who makes us lie down in green pastures and guides us beside still waters, the one who is the gate for the sheepfold.

One of the most important principles of the Reformation was the priesthood of all believers. In ancient Judea, before the destruction of the Temple in 66 A.D., only the descendants of Aaron were allowed to make offerings to the Lord. In both the Eastern Orthodox and the Roman Catholic traditions, priests serve as intermediaries for the sacraments and for other purposes. One reason Catholics pray to saints is that they don’t think they are allowed direct access to God, but instead need an intermediary. The Reformers looked at passages like today’s and said, No, that’s wrong. Jesus promised to send the Spirit, and then all through the Book of Acts we read about the Spirit descending on many people—not just priests. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we may directly approach God. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we are connected to each other and energized for the building of God’s kingdom. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we are the body of Christ, doing Christ’s work in the world.

We don’t need a pastor to love God. We don’t need a pastor to love our neighbor. Now, I’m not saying that we don’t need a pastor at all, only that God is with us regardless. We can still come together to worship. We can still confess our sins, and we still know that we are forgiven. Rather than a priest giving us absolution, we simply need to be reminded that Jesus Christ already did that. We can still encounter the Word through the reading of scripture and illumination by the Holy Spirit. About the only thing we can’t do ourselves is communion and baptism. Now, I’ve been given special dispensation to serve communion to our congregation and to baptize two of our newest members, but I would argue that the approval I received is necessary to call ourselves Presbyterian, not to call ourselves Christian.

Over the past couple of weeks, we saw our limits, but also our capabilities, when we lost two members who were dear to us. If Carlene and Frank had passed away five years ago, Lou Ellen would have taken the lead on the arrangements. If they had passed away three years ago, there would have been no services because of the pandemic. But when they passed, the church rallied around. Thanks to Katie especially, and Tina, and Ken, and Amy, and Lorie, and Melba, and too many other people to name without leaving someone out, we came together to support the Mays and the Jessops. Some people were stretched thin, and maybe there were some things that could have been done better. But at the end of the day, we achieved the two basic goals: surrounding the families with love, and reminding them—and everyone who loved Carlene and Frank—of the hope that we have through the resurrection of our Lord. We were connected to each other, supported by each other, and strengthened individually and as a church by the action of the Holy Spirit.

So again, I’m not saying that the PNC should stop searching for a new pastor. What I’m saying is that with or without an installed pastor, WE are the church. A pastor might have new ideas for how we can act out our love of God and our love of our neighbors in the community, but the love remains the same. The love we share is the action of the Holy Spirit, flowing through us and among us.

The question before us, today and every day, is, who are the neighbors that we are passionate about serving? On campus, we’re going through an exercise to evaluate new and existing programs against four criteria: mission, demand, passion, and capacity. I would say that every program, every activity, in every organization, needs to be evaluated on these four dimensions. Our mission is to build God’s kingdom, but that’s too broad to be useful. Our community has a lot of needs, a lot of people who need to experience the love of God in their lives, but maybe not an awareness of how they can connect to that love or what role our church might fulfill in their lives. Passion—there are lots of things that we could do, but only if we have a critical mass of people who care deeply about making them a reality. And finally, capacity: the reality is that we cannot be all things to all people. We are empowered by the Holy Spirit who amplifies our efforts. Still, there are only so many hours in the day, and many of us have a lot of other demands on our time or are limited by health challenges. So again, there are lots of things that we could do, but only if we have people who are able to see them through.

I don’t know what the future holds for us. I don’t know what new ministries we should embark upon, or what we should stop doing so that we have the resources to grow in a different direction. What I do know is that as long as we are guided, strengthened, and energized by the Holy Spirit, we have everything we need to play our part in transforming the world. Amen.

The Journey, The Destination

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on May 7, 2023. Based on John 14:1-14.


Today’s passage is the start of John 14, but I’d like to back up to John 13 to set the stage. John 13 opens with Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, as an example that he sets for them. He goes on to say that someone will betray him, and then Judas Iscariot leaves to do just that. Jesus gives them the new commandment that they should love one another, and says that he will be going away where they cannot follow now. Quite an eventful chapter!

So now Jesus is really hitting his stride in his Farewell Discourse. This is his last night with his disciples, his last chance to tell them what they should do when he’s gone. He wants to be sure that they know who he is and what he means to the world. As is typical, the disciples are kind of dense and don’t fully understand what he’s saying, but Jesus tries.

Part of the reason they don’t understand is the same reason we don’t understand. Jesus describes an intimate relationship with God that is so far beyond most people’s experiences that it’s hard to comprehend. We can say the words—the Trinity is three persons who dwell in each other, bound together so strongly by love—but what does that really mean? Few people ever experience that kind of love, a transcendent love that changes the way you see the world. So Jesus does the best he can with the language at his disposal.

He tries with a metaphor. Jesus says, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” Twenty-first century Americans don’t recognize this metaphor, but first-century Judeans would have. This is marriage imagery. Jesus is likening himself to a bridegroom who goes to prepare a place for the bride, where she can live with his family. In that time and place, the convention was for the bride to join the groom’s household, but of course there had to be a place for the new nuclear family to live. The groom would prepare it, and then come take his bride home to live with his family.

So that’s how Jesus describes his heavenly realm. It’s like one big family compound. As we read in so many places throughout the New Testament, the Church is the bride of Christ. He loves us and wants to build a new life with us.

Indeed, Jesus’s death is not the end, but a new beginning. It’s the end of his personal earthly ministry, but the beginning of his new heavenly ministry. In these last hours with his disciples and his last days on earth, he is preparing to join the Church with his heavenly realm and, in that way, establish God’s kin-dom.

Notice that he says that there are “many” dwelling places. He goes on to say, “No one comes to the Father except through me.” This is usually read with an exclusionist perspective: only Christians are allowed in heaven. It’s as if Jesus is ascending to become a bouncer and keep out the riffraff. I think it’s better to read it as if Jesus is ascending to become a greeter. He is preparing many dwelling places, enough for everyone. When we see him, he will welcome us with open arms and show us the way into his heavenly realm.

But wait: I’ve said many times that the kingdom of God isn’t just something that we see when we die. It’s here, right here, right at hand. God isn’t just in some faraway place, but is also here among us. Indeed, God is within us. Just like Jesus, we are bound up with God through the power of love.

So again, let’s remember the story that brought us to today. Jesus knows his time on earth is nearing the end, so he kneels and washes his disciples’ feet. Throughout the Gospel According to John, Jesus performs miracles, signs that grow more and more astounding, from the changing of water into wine to the raising of Lazarus. Jesus is God, Jesus is God, JESUS IS GOD! And then at the peak of the crescendo, what does he do? He serves his friends, as if a slave. Jesus is God, and yet he empties himself and takes on the most degrading task. Then he tells his disciples, This is what you should do. Love one another just like I have loved you. I am the way. If you’re ever wondering how to enter my kingdom, just do what I did, or what I would have done.

Jesus claims that we will do greater things than he did. How can that be? I don’t personally know anyone who has turned water into wine, much less raised the dead. Yet in a way, Christians have indeed been doing great things throughout history. A great historical mystery is how a small sect of a small religion developed into the world’s largest religion, currently claiming more than 30% of the world’s population. Historically, most religions were local or regional. How did Christianity come to be such a powerful global force? Well, one reason was the dedication of early Christians to serve their neighbors. Wherever Christians lived, they pushed the local authorities towards more humane policies, although with varying levels of success. They cared for the sick both within and outside their communities, despite persecution. They created the first hospitals. Maybe they weren’t raising the dead, but they were healing the sick and preventing death.

What else did Jesus teach his disciples? One principle was inclusion. Like I said, most religions in history were local or regional, or at least ethnically isolated. Christianity was the first religion where a gathering might include men and women of widely varied ethnic backgrounds, from all walks of life, from slaves to soldiers to aristocrats. It may have started as a sect within Judaism, but it quickly became dominated by non-Jewish believers. When Paul wrote, “There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus,” he was in fact describing the church in Galatia and holding it up as an example of how people should live together and how the church should grow.

Then there was non-violent resistance. First-century Jews were expecting a Messiah who would be a warrior, who would lead the heavenly host to expel the Romans and re-establish a Jewish theocratic kingdom. Jesus came and did not look anything like the Messiah they were expecting. Instead of a violent overthrow, he taught that his kingdom was not of this world and really had no interest in changing the way Judea and Galilee were governed. He focused on teaching people how to live together in the kingdom of God no matter what government claimed authority. That lesson didn’t really take hold in Christianity, though. It wasn’t too long before bishops were arguing with each other, supposedly over theological points but also over power and authority. Once we made a deal with Constantine, we committed ourselves to politics. In the centuries since then, we have struggled to escape the orbit of governmental authority. Even the Reformation, a time when Christians rejected many of the old teachings of the Roman Catholic church, turned into a time when rival denominations could set up local theocracies to enforce their own interpretation of the Bible. That was entirely the opposite of Jesus’s teachings, and yet we still can’t escape the attractiveness of power.

Jesus taught that instead of seeking power, instead of seeking earthly accolades, instead of trying to establish a theocracy by force, we should instead seek to change the world from the bottom up with the power of love. Leaders are not to be rulers who “lord it over” their subjects, but to become as slaves. He taught that we are to love one another as he did, a self-sacrificing love that prioritizes others’ welfare more highly than our own.

You have heard me speak about the Mission a number of times. There is a movement afoot in Rolla—and there has been for some time—to get the Mission shut down. It is led by property owners and business owners who feel that the value of their property or profitability of their business is negatively impacted by the poor and unhoused individuals who make use of the Mission’s services. Homelessness is indeed a problem in Rolla, but it is not unique to Rolla—it’s a problem in every city in the nation, one that eludes easy solutions. The most disappointing aspect of the movement against the Mission is that the leaders of it would consider themselves Christians—and in fact one is a minister. I have not heard any of them propose a solution that would involve showing Christian love to those who are struggling to improve their lives. You know, most people are just a few paychecks away from homelessness. The difference between those who become homeless and those who don’t is the absence or presence of a support network. Jesus taught us that instead of using our wealth and our position in the community for our own benefit, using it to protect ourselves from those we fear, we must value each person of the community and work for their good. We should be that support network that the homeless lack.

I recently listened to a podcast about the bystander effect. Briefly, it’s the phenomenon where you see a need but don’t act on it. You think, Geez, someone should do something. Well, I’m someone, and you’re someone. Jesus taught that we are called to act out our love. Love is not a feeling so much as an action, a calling to serve our neighbor in need.

Jesus knew this would be hard. But he said that we don’t need to do it alone. Jesus said that he is the way. If we follow his path, we will dwell in Him always, and he will dwell in us, and will do whatever we ask in his name. The way to the Father’s house is abiding in the Son, being filled with his love and strengthened by the Holy Spirit. That sounds an awful lot like heaven, right? Christ is defined by paradoxes: transcendent yet immanent, Lamb and Shepherd. Dwelling in Christ and following his example is both the path to heaven and heaven itself. It is the abundant life he promised here, and the eternal glory in the age to come. Let us seek now to follow his example of self-sacrificing love, a love that values others more than ourselves, a love that risks everything, a love that is heaven itself, a love that is both the journey and the destination. Amen.

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