Sermons

Leaning Back and Letting Go

Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and will be in you.” “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while, the world will no longer see me, but you will see me, because I live, you also will live. On that day, you will know who I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.” John 14:15-21 

There is a world of difference between believing things about Jesus and believing in Jesus, between knowing things about Jesus and knowing him. 

The two are related: you can’t know him without knowing about him; you can’t believe in him without believing things about him. But the difference is like the difference between reading about love and falling in love; between studying the proper technique for rock climbing versus knowing what it’s like to lean back in mid-air, entrusting your life to the rope around your waist. 

Nonetheless, faith in Jesus begins with learning about him, which is no easy task, particularly when distortions and misperceptions about him abound. That’s nothing new—human beings have been creating Jesus in our own image from the beginning. That’s why it’s important to actually read the Bible and study it intelligently, by yourself and in community. 

As you know, there are four accounts in the Bible that tell of Jesus’ life, and they all tell his story differently. Three of the four have a lot in common with each other—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—though our view of Jesus would be diminished if one of them were missing. The fourth, the Gospel of John, is strikingly different, both in tone and teaching, about which I’ll say more in a moment. It’s important to recognize, however, that all of them were written, not as historical documents, the way such documents would be written in our time. They don’t always agree. They are at once repetitive and contradictory, because they are, in fact, written compilations of oral traditions and cherished memories written down long after Jesus’ time, and they were written in light of other sacred texts—what we refer to as the Old Testament, which tells the ancient stories of Judaism. The gospels written so that future generations, like us, might have some sense of who Jesus was when he walked the earth, and why they—the communities that gathered in his name after his death—came to believe that he was, in fact, sent from God, or the Son of God, or the human embodiment of God. 

From those texts, this is what we know about him:

Jesus was born in the land of Israel during the reign of Herod the Great. He grew up in Nazareth, a Jewish village. He emerged as a public figure in his early 30s, rising up out of the movement begun by John the Baptizer. He had a ministry of healing and teaching that lasted about three years, focused primarily in small fishing villages around the Sea of Galilee. He made the fateful decision to bring his message to Jerusalem, the center of religious and political power. There, he openly challenged the religious leaders of his people, which did not sit well with them. He also aroused suspicions of the Roman authorities, and that led to his crucifixion, a form of death they reserved for insurrectionists and escaped slaves. He died a very young man. 

Jesus was an extraordinary teacher. His teaching style was invitational. In the words of religion scholar Huston Smith, “Instead of telling people what to do or believe, he invited them to see things differently, confident that if they did so, their behavior would change.”1 

Jesus’ core mission was clear, and his message was simple: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Love your enemies.” “Forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven.” “Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” “Blessed are the poor.” 

Most of the time, Jesus told stories: stories about buried treasure, lost coins, and sowers in the field; of a good Samaritan (which would be like us telling a story today about a good terrorist), a man who had two sons. More than anything Jesus wanted people to believe two important facts of life: God’s overwhelming love for us and of our need to accept that love and let it flow through us.2 

Jesus lived in such a way that people believed him when he spoke of God’s love, for he himself loved freely. His heart went out to all people, no matter if they were rich or poor, young or old, saint or sinner. He knew that everyone has a need to belong, and he encouraged those who had the means to invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind to their tables. He loved children, and he hated injustice for what it did to the most vulnerable people. He also hated hypocrisy, for what it did to the human soul. 

When he died, his followers were devastated, until something happened. That “something” we call resurrection. First, he appeared to his followers after his death in real and palpable ways, assuring them that he was still alive, though not in the same way as before his death. Then, after a time of these appearances, he made it clear that he was leaving them again, but that he would still be with them forever, and that his Spirit would live in them, guiding and empowering them. He asked them to carry and share his message of God’s love, and to invite others to follow him in the way of Love. 

As I mentioned, the last gospel to be written, known as the Gospel of John (from which we read this morning), is by far the most mystical. Jesus always seems to be speaking from the other side of the resurrection. The contrast between John and the other gospels is a bit jarring at first, because in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, he is reluctant to talk about himself, pointing instead to what he calls “the Kingdom of God” and what it’s like in that Kingdom, which is to be realized here on earth as it is in a realm beyond this world, known as heaven. In contrast, in John, Jesus talks about himself all the time and exhorts those around him to believe in him and put their trust in him. 

The same invitation leaps off the page to us—not as an abstract idea, but as a living presence in our lives. 

That’s especially true in a long section, from which today’s text is taken, known as the Farewell Discourse. 

The setting is the last meal Jesus will share with his disciples before he dies. He knows it, and he is doing his best to prepare them for what’s to come. He assures them that even though he’s leaving, they will never be alone. He says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.” 

It would be a mistake to hear the word “if” as conditional. A more helpful translation might be: “Because you love me.” Jesus knows that his disciples love him. These are his closest friends and the ones in whom he has poured out his life for three years. Now he is leaving them, and he wants them to know, as he says, that he will not leave them orphaned. God will send them an Advocate, which is another way to describe the Spirit of God, Jesus’ very spirit that will be with them forever. 

Friends, the entire Christian faith is built on the conviction that Jesus’ spirit is with us still, and that we are invited—never bullied—to experience his presence and his love in our lives. 

So what does it look like to believe in Jesus? 

It begins with a sense of his presence with us, inside, as he was to the first disciples after his death. Now, if you aren’t sure about what that sense of presence means or feels like, not to worry. It’s a mystery to all of us. Not everyone experiences his presence in the same way. 

It helps if, at some point, you consciously invite him into your life, because he will never force you to believe in him. That’s not his way. Services like this one, where we make conscious, public commitments to follow him, are also helpful, in that we are aligning our wills, our conscious choices, toward him, which gives his spirit more room to work. 

The Christian life isn’t about ultimatums. It’s about love. Through Jesus, you can know that you’re never alone, that your life matters, that failure or disappointment is never the final word, and that God needs you to help heal the world, one person, one effort at a time.

One of the first times I consciously heard his voice was when I was in my late teens. I was traveling alone in Europe—let’s just say that I’m lucky to be alive today. 

Another memorable time was in my late twenties. It was a tough time. Every day, it seemed, life was asking me to do something that I didn’t know how to do. One day, while taking a walk, I asked aloud, “Is it always going to be like this?” The answer came immediately: “Yes.” Then I heard: “But I will be with you.” Imagine that. I wasn’t alone. 

Believing in him is also like leaning into thin air, trusting that a rope will hold. It involves letting go. When I imagine what it will be like to die, I think of leaning back, letting go, and trusting that God will be there to catch me. Believing in Jesus now involves practicing, in small ways, leaning back and letting go as I live. 

Let me suggest three concrete ways to practice believing in Jesus. 

The first: whenever life gets hard, and you don’t know if you can face what it is that life is asking of you, or to let go of, or to change, try not to run away. Instead, lean into the pain. Open yourself to the grace of Christ right there, in that tender place. I promise you that he will meet you there. You can trust that the rope will hold, and that you’re not alone. 

Second, whenever you are at a crossroads and have a decision to make, and you’re not sure what to do. Pay attention to what makes your heart beat faster, and what seems to be beckoning you, even if it’s not the option you want. Then find someone you trust, whose way of life you admire, and whom you know cares for you. Tell them about the decision you’re weighing. Ask them to listen to you and to ask you questions that will help you gain clarity in your own mind. Then move in the direction that seems right, taking what Carl Jung described as taking “the next faithful step.” I promise that Jesus will meet you there. 

That doesn’t mean that you’ll make the “right” decision, whatever that means, or that you’ll succeed in whatever is before you. You will often fail. We all do. Whether we succeed or fail matters far less than our getting better at the practice of living at the edge and following whatever glimpse of guidance we are given. Failure is never the final word.  

Finally, never stop asking questions, and don’t be afraid of the truth, wherever it comes from. If you have doubts about God, and about Jesus, and what this faith means, that means you’re paying attention. We all have doubts. We’re all still asking questions. When we stop questioning, we stop living. 

And don’t worry if on some days or at some point you stop believing in Jesus. For he will never stop believing in you. And he will always be there for you. Always. You can trust that the rope will hold. 

Amen.

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1 Smith, Huston, The Soul of Christianity (HarperSanFrancisco, 2005) p.48

2 Smith, p. 51