We Wish to See Jesus! - John 12: 20-26

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is from John 12: 20-26:

²⁰ Now among those who went up to worship at the feast were some Greeks. ²¹ So these came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” ²² Philip went and told Andrew; Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. ²³ And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. ²⁴ Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. ²⁵ Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. ²⁶ If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.

Why are you here? I don’t mean in some kind of philosophical, epistemological sort of way where we stare at our belly buttons and consider the meaning of life. I mean this literally: why are you here at St. Paul’s this morning?

For some of you, the answer is very simple: because it’s Sunday morning. Where else would you be but the Lord’s house after getting a Sunday morning Wenchell’s donut and a cup of coffee? Let’s take it a step further. Why are you here on a Sunday morning? What is making this time, this space, this place the centripetal center of your day, your week, and even your very life? Why are you here?

For most, if not all of us, the answer is because someone brought us here, to the Lord’s House. Probably our parents, before we could ever say yes or no, they bundled us in baby blankets and kiddie carriers and brought us to church. For others, it was because our husband or wife, boyfriend or girlfriend, or a best friend brought us to church. That personal invitation, that welcome, that request opened the door for the Spirit to work His work in our hearts and minds, calling, gathering, enlightening us to come together to hear the Good News of Jesus. And, if we’re really, really honest, this morning there may be a few of us who are answering, “We’re here because we’re curious about the new guy.”

Those are like level one and level two reasons. Go still deeper, and let me ask one more time: Why are you here? We’ll come back to that in a few minutes.

In the text that I have chosen, it’s early in Holy Week – probably Palm Sunday afternoon or the next day. You recall Jesus entered Jerusalem to the cries of “Hosannah! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” People cut down palm branches and took off their outer cloaks, placing them both on the ground to soften the footfalls of the donkey’s steps and reduce dust as Jesus entered the city of David to the King’s welcome.

Some of the crowd were Greeks, Gentiles, or as the Hebrews called them, goyim – literally, “the non-Jewish nations.” Nevermind that they were there to worship at the Temple for the Feast of Passoverr. They were outsiders, barely tolerated by Jews. They could go to Temple, but had to stay outside of the main worship center, in the outer courtyard aptly called “The Court of the Gentiles.” To roughly compare to our church building, it would be as if they could come through the exterior doors, but had to stay in the narthex, unable to enter the main sanctuary. There was a clear line of demarcation: Jews, Sons of Abraham, were welcome inside; Greeks, the literal outsiders, remain outside.

That’s what makes their request of Philip all the more marvelous: “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” The Greeks knew who they were in relation to Jesus and His Jewish brethren. Perhaps they felt uncomfortable directly approaching Him because of those religious and cultural differences. I suspect that, somehow, they assumed Philip was also Greek – his name certainly wasn’t traditional Hebrew. Maybe Philip would have sympathy on their request and get them a moment of audience with the One who had entered the city to Hosannah. Although they knew they were outsiders, stuck on the outer edge of the worshipping community, they would not be deterred: they wanted to see Jesus. We do not know why. Possibly, just possibly, they were curious to see the One that created such a stir in the city. Maybe they wanted to ask him a question, like John’s disciples had done, “Are you the Messiah, or are we to expect another?” Perhaps they wanted to receive a blessing, to pray for a miracle, to simply see Him and hear His voice. Maybe Jesus would give them the time of day if Philp would make an introduction. All we know is that their desire was to see Jesus. Philip leads them to Andrew; together, they lead the small entourage to see Jesus.

I began by asking the question, “Why are you here?” While we explored a lot of possible answers, I asked you to dig deeper and get to the answer that underlies all others. Whatever else may have brought you to St. Paul’s this morning, I pray that the core reason you are here is that, like those Greeks, you want to see Jesus. And, I pray that at the heart of every conversation we have as God’s flock, pastor and people, people and pastor, is that very basic, core desire: we wish to see Jesus together.

Now, that begs a question: what Jesus do you want to see?

In the movie, Talladega Nights, Ricky Bobby, the character played by Will Farrell, says he likes the cute little Baby Jesus of Christmas the best. That’s the only Jesus he wants to know. I suspect that’s not far from what most people in the world want: they want a nice, cute Jesus who doesn’t ask too much of us. Bring him out for Christmas and when things are tough, but otherwise, we’ll do it ourselves – thank you. Truth be told, our old Adam and old Eve wants a convenient Jesus who gives us exactly what we want, when we want it. We want Jesus who gives us this day our daily filet mignon with a nice crusty baguette and farm-to-table vegetables. This Jesus gives us successful careers, beautiful families like our favorite social media influencers, perfect skin, spot-on blood pressure, and teeth that make an orthodontist weep in awe. Health, wealth, and happiness are all ours from this Jesus, upon request – or demand – whichever the case might be. Given our druthers, the Jesus we would see is the admixture produced by Hollywood, Wall Street, and Pennsylvania Avenue which, in reality, is no Jesus at all.

Instead of the Jesus we want to see, we need the Jesus who reveals Himself to us to be seen. And, when you see this Jesus, what you see is the cross.

We don’t know exactly what those Greeks expected to see of Jesus, but when Jesus welcomes them, He teaches them of the where His glory will be demonstrated. It’s not in the parade that took place earlier, with the crowds and the palm branches and the joy-filled, expectant cries. It’s not in the palace of David or even in the courtyard of the Temple from which they are excluded. His glory will be found in His crucifixion, in His death. If you want to see Jesus, you see Him in and through the cross.

Strange place to find Jesus in His glory, isn’t it? It will be the most un-glorious glorification the world will ever know. His fellow Jews will lie and conspire to kill Him. The Roman governor will find Him innocent, yet will sentence Him to death, meanwhile freeing a guilty man who deserved to die. The soldiers will whip and scourge and press a crown of thorns into His scalp. His blood will flow freely. The cross will become His throne, and the crowds – the very same people who on Sunday cried “Hosanna” – the crowds will instead cry “cruficy!” Nails will pierce the hands that broke the bread, that healed the sick, that raised the dead. The feet that carried Him across Israel will be pinned to the rough wood. He is left alone, suspended between heaven and earth, abandoned by both disciples and by His Heavenly Father. The only thing left untouched is His voice, and with that voice, in the noon-day darkness, the Word-made-flesh commended Himself into His Father’s hands, proclaiming that the work of salvation complete as He breathed His last. Only then, through the cross and His death, can you see the glorified and resurrected Jesus. The Third-Day resurrection is only possible because He accomplished the Father’s will to rescue and redeem. “It is finished,” indeed.

That, I pray, is the Jesus you wish to see: the Jesus who died to redeem and rescue you, His people; the Jesus who rescues the world, not as Jew or Greek, slave or free, Germananic or Marshallese, Oklahoman or Texan, but as the Church, the body of Christ, united and without geographic, political, or social boundaries. I pray you seek the Jesus who took your place on the cross so you will never be abandoned by the Father. I pray you seek the Jesus who proclaims your sins are forgiven freely and fully in His blood; the Jesus who welcomes you into a peace-filled and restore relationship with the Father; the Jesus into whom you are baptized, with His death and His resurrection made yours.

Sir, we wish to see Jesus. You can – you should – expect that of your pastor: that he shows you this Jesus. You have the right and the expectation to demand it of me and hold me to account.  Expect of me, demand of me, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus who shows Himself to in water and word, in bread and wine, in the forgiveness of sins, and who calls us to Himself through His Spirit into the Church which is the very body of Christ. Sir, show us this Jesus.”

Last Sunday, I promised that I would do that, to the best of my ability, with the help of God. And you, in return, promised that we would work together to proclaim that Jesus in both words and actions to the world, to this city, to this immediate neighborhood that needs to see Jesus crucified, risen, and alive for them. That is good. I know there is a sense of excitement as we begin this time of ministry together.

But, I do want you to know this: in calling me to be your pastor, you have continued the perfect track record of St. Paul’s, and every Christian congregation, for that matter, of calling a sinner into this Office. Sooner or later, my Old Adam will bubble to the surface. He is a good swimmer, after all. I’ll say or do something, or I won’t say or I won’t do something, and either by omission or commission I will sin against you. And, there will be a day when you will sin against me. When that happens, I pray that we are able to collectively say to each other, “we wish to see Jesus,” and in words and actions, we are able to confess our sins to each other and then forgive each other through the death and resurrection of Christ.

In doing that, we serve each other in the name of Jesus. We will do that here, in this holy sanctuary. We will do it in this neighborhood surrounding 1626 E. Broadway. We’ll do it in Enid. We’ll do it in our homes and places of work and play. We’ll serve each other in the name of Jesus.

According to legend, in the years after World War 2, a military chaplain was touring a church in France that had been badly damaged. Although the building was being carefully restored, in the narthex was a badly damaged statue of Jesus. Its legs were gone; one hand was broken off and the other arm was completely missing. Perhaps most stunning of all, the bottom of the mouth was absent. The chaplain pointed out to his tour guide the irony of the restored building but the statue was so badly damaged and left unrepaired. The tour guide’s answer stopped the chaplain in his boots: the reason, he said, is that it reminds us when we leave this church, we serve our community as the voice, hands and feet of Jesus.

So, go back to the beginning. Why are you here? You are here to see Jesus where He has promised to be for His Church and to receive the blessings of Christ, in Word and Sacrament. But, you aren't just here for yourself. You are also here for those around you, around us. This community needs to see Jesus. It might not know it, but it does. When you leave here, you do so strengthened and fulfilled to serve those people in the name of Jesus as His voice, hands and feet.

In His name.
Amen.