Lent 4: Believing

John 3:14–21 NRSV

14 And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17 “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18 Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19 And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 20 For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21 But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

Today, as we reach the 4th Sunday of Lent, it seems appropriate to do a status check — where are we on the journey? How is this season going? Are we staying faithful to what we’ve committed to, a fast or a spiritual discipline? Is there movement happening in us?

We’re half-way through Lent — are we still going? Or have we bowed out? Do we want to keep moving with Jesus towards Jerusalem, or are we growing cautious as he continues to speak about his impending death, about the temple being destroyed and raised up? As Jesus asks his closest disciples, “Can you drink the cup I am about to drink?”

Maybe it’s not just checking in with the season of Lent. Maybe it’s looking at what you hold dear, what you believe in, what you value, from where you stand in your life. I’m 41. Statistically, I’m nearing or have already reached, the half-way point in my life. This is the life I have — am I being who I want to be? Do my actions line up with what I claim to be my values?

And do I believe in what I say I believe, what I want to believe? At this point, it seems really fair to ask — have I thrown in my lot with the right things? Because time is getting on and we best not waste it, right?

Thankfully, we worship the Christ, who comes near to us and reminds us, you are beloved, you are mine. The Christ comes to us, suffers with us, heals us, all through the mighty power of love. Christ suffers through life with us, suffers and rejoices, in our sorrows and our joys. So, do we believe? Will we follow? Will we place our hope in Christ’s power at work in us?

"Where there is no love there can be no empathetic grief... In other words, there is no possibility of loving the world to salvation without suffering."

Let us pray. Christ, you have loved us, loved our world in all its grief and suffering. You have called us your own, that as we turn and place our trust, our belief, our faith in you, we will find restoration and wholeness, shalom. Lord, guide our steps upon this journey. Help us to believe, to follow, to trust, and live in you. Amen.

Whoever believes finds life, eternal and fullest life.

Doesn’t believing also suppose the possibility of being wrong? In that we believe in something, commit to it, in opposition to or comparison against something else. Does one have to be right and the other wrong? Or maybe believing is better described as seeking the least inadequate description, the closest approximation that we can come up with.

Whoever believes in me…

How are we to understand this “believing?” We know that it has to be more than simply an intellectual commitment. Those break down, or at least those allegiances generally shift as we mature, learn, experience. So belief in Christ, belief in something, it is more of a whole-body orientation.

Let’s step outside the religious context for a moment and think about what we “believe” in. A simple example that comes to mind is how we believe in the laws that govern our traffic system. Each and every one of us puts our faith in the traffic laws when we get behind the wheel. We believe in a world where people are going to follow the same agreed upon rules of the road. We believe that the car across the intersection is going to turn at their appointed time. We believe that if we use our blinker to signal, we will be acknowledged and understood.

But even this belief exists alongside the clear reality that not everyone follows the same rules, even if we believe. Someone is going to run a red light. Someone is going to pass on the right-hand side. Do these variances make believing in the rules of the road invalid? NO. Because when we believe in something, we are throwing in our lot with the commitment to the belief, but also acknowledge that there will be times when that system breaks down. Belief rests not on 100% accuracy or confirmation of the rules, but in spite of the occasional aberrations or experiences of doubt.

So Jesus, when he says, “whoever believes in him” will find life to its fullest, when he says this, he’s saying that eternity and completion are found in him. While we cast our lots in with many things, Jesus is also stating clearly that in him, this belief is founded, fulfilled, certain. No perishing, no destruction. Life.

He goes on to clarify what this means…

“God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might saved through him.”

Not to condemn.

God’s message of Good News and restored lives, leading us out of our hurts and brokenness, comes without condemnation. I don’t know if I notice how generous this is, but if we go back and think about how we believe even in the face of doubts, we can imagine the kind of condemnation, or at least foolishness, we might experience when those doubts prove to be true. Oh, man, I was wrong. Shame. Sadness. My beliefs didn’t hold up.

No condemnation. No condemnation. Did we get it wrong before? Were we on the wrong track? Were we looking in the opposite direction? Were we persuing life in places that were always going to produce only death?

No condemnation. Instead, Jesus wants to bring restoration. Shalom. Wholeness. Salvation.

Jesus’ presence and ministry among God’s people is for this purpose — to bring wholeness to fractured, oppressed, hurting people. Here and now. Eternal life, as in life to the fullest, life beyond the bounds of “just ok.” Glimpses and glimmers of life as we are meant to be, our truest selves.

No condemnation, no judgement, just restoring to our truest selves. The fullness of our being, both individually and collectively. “So that the world might be saved through him.”

Let’s get clear on what we’re talking about when we talk about being saved.

Jesus is saying that instead of a world that condemns us for not getting it right, we are instead being invited into a way of life that calls out our truest being, despite our faults and inadequacies. We are saved from ourselves, from our own pain and self-ridicule. We are saved from systems that reinforce our hunger and the sense of lack, saved from capitalist greed or subservience under tyranny.

And to be saved is to be awakened and alive in the here and now, ready to engage this very world and share the good news with others so that they also might break out of the oppressive spell of what can be described as death before death, the dying while we live, dying on the vine, withering in despair.

So we put our faith, our belief in Christ. Acknowledging our doubts, accepting how impossibly beautiful it could be that this world may somehow come to rights through Jesus’ work in and through us.

John relays Jesus’ closing assessment: “And this is the judgement…that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”

The Son of Man, Jesus, the Christ, has come. The Light of the World has shown up. He’s here, in these stories and in our lives, bearing witness to this way of restoration. The Light of the World is here.

But our attention is elsewhere. We’re fumbling around in the dark. We’re distracted by the noise, the hum of politics, war, excess, greed, destruction, pain. We’ve got our eyes glued to the iPad screen, scrolling through news that numbs us because of the immense despair we see.

Jesus’ words are dramatic, saying that the people loved darkness, but we get it. We’re drawn to these distractions, these stories that make us just uncomfortable enough that we dive deeper, hoping there’s a better closing statement at the end of the depressing news article.

We mustn’t let ourselves be distracted, but we do. It’s so easy.

That’s why Jesus’ words seem like hyperbole — he’s being dramatic to get our attention. None of us go around saying, “I hate light, I despise goodness.”

But we are prone to forget that the light has come and that we have been called to be in the light, fully, as our truest selves. Like the deep, ancient stories of Adam and Eve in the Garden, we don’t want the exposure. We don’t want to really be seen or have our lives really be unveiled. We like our privacy, we say.

Remember, no condemnation. Jesus’ message is not about bringing condemnation to the world. It’s just not. If we encounter something done in Jesus’ name that stinks of condemnation or bigotry, pay attention and be careful with it. Jesus does not condemn.

Romans 8:1 NRSV

1 There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

None.

And here is how we find the eternal life, the light of life.

We let ourselves be seen by God, fully, as we are.

We let ourselves be seen, in the light.

We stop hiding. We get clear. We say, alright, here I am.

Jesus says those who do what is true come to the light.

Are there moments in your day when you know you’re doing what you a meant to be doing? When you’re being true to yourself, the others around you, and being in line with how God has gifted you?

Are there times, in your friendships or close loved ones, when you really see their face and they see yours? Those moments when you can sit back, even just for a second, and appreciate the goodness of another person.

These are moments when we are discovering the light. These are moments when the light is getting a bit brighter, the world a bit clearer, the darkness fading, even if just for a moment.

Let’s go back to the beginning, to belief: belief and light.

We fool ourselves if we think there will only be light days or only times of joy and security. That is not how things are.

But belief, remember, is about throwing in with someone or something in spite of the challenges. Come what may. For all the institution’s flaws and heartbreaks, the faith spoken of in a marriage ceremony is a time when we can possibly capture this sense of “belief.” People make impossible promises in their marriage vows, before witnesses, not because they know they will certainly always be able to honor them, but belief or faith comes in resistance to their impossibility.

We believe in the possibility of Jesus’ good news, in spite of our broken and hurting world. Why? Because in it we find life. In Jesus’ way we find life. Not condemnation, not easy answers, but life.

I’m not great at “believing” this way all the time. But what I do know is that I want to. I want to believe. I want to deeply long for and desire it, for this to be the way things are AND we, together, can willingly throw in our lot with one another, believing in the light, believing in Christ’s way, believing together that there is a truth to this way, a truth beyond reason and doubt, a truth that gets to the very heart of what it means for us to be human and to belong in this world, God’s world, together.