April 16, 2023
Easter 2
Friends,
I want to do something special with you for the second Sunday of Easter, especially for this Holy Remnant on Low Sunday.
As we did in the Great Three days, we continue to devote ourselves to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus according to the Gospel of John. This is a break from the rest-of-the-year Gospel of Matthew. Remember, our Sunday-to-Sunday lectionary follows the Gospel of Matthew, one year, Mark in the second year, Luke in the third year … while John is read in every year from the Sunday of the Passion onward and into Good Friday and throughout Easter.
Now the special thing I want to have us do is to hear today’s Gospel, not only as God’s Word, but as an example of God’s Word having a very different voice, and whose author has a very different ear for language, than do the other Gospels and their writers. Listen to this Gospel as a work of literature.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him nothing came into being. What has come into being in him was life and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not grasped it.
This is the first text I learned when I studied Greek a very long time ago. This and the Lord’s prayer. Now, no other Gospel begins anything like this one. No other Gospel has the voice. No other Gospel names God “Light” or the “True Light”. It’s strange; and it’s different. No other Gospel writer is as self-conscious in his writing or writes with such imagination as does John.
Remember, our rector marked out these early months of 2023 for some holy Imagination? Well, the Gospel of John lends itself to Holy Imagination and there is no better text to be reading with a mind that does not simply grasp or comprehend but imagines, as well.
Let me suggest two places where the Gospel writer inserts an opportunity for holy imagination.
The first is the figure of the beloved disciple; the “disciple whom Jesus loves”. We just heard, just days ago, that when Jesus was dying on the cross, Jesus commended his mother to the care of his beloved disciple, and the beloved disciple to his mother’s care. Remember?
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. Or again, later:
Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not recognize Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to starboard, and you will find some.” So they did, and now they were unable to haul it in there were so many fish. And so the “disciple whom Jesus loved” said to Peter, “It’s the Lord!” Do you hear it. Jesus is recognized by someone who is nameless. How odd is that!
The disciple whom Jesus loved. Why doesn’t the writer simply use his name. Some think that the beloved disciple is the author, himself, John the Evangelist, our patron. Possibly.
I think… I imagine that I am the beloved disciple. I imagine that it is I saying to Peter. “It’s the Lord.” Or taking Mary into my home because she’s in need of a place to be and someone to care for her and vice versa.
I think the writer of the Gospel of John is helping us to make our way into the story by affording us a wonderful place-holder in the text: the figure of the beloved disciple. “Beloved disciple” sounds better than “insert name here.” All of us are invited to think of ourselves as “the beloved disciple,” just who. and how. we are. Much loved; the object of much grace. What might our welcome look like if we imagined our visitors and guests to be the beloved disciple? How might our regard for those around us change if we imagined one another to be the beloved disciple? Or a beloved disciple.
But I mentioned that there are two places for some holy imagination.
The second lies with Thomas or, as John says, “Thomas who was called twin”. Thomas means twin in Hebrew and Aramaic, the local language that Jesus and his friends spoke. But here, in the scripture is actually reads Thomas called Δίδυμος / Didymos” which is twin in Greek. Thomas has a speaking part only in the Gospel of John. He’s just a name on lists elsewhere.
So the author is saying something like “the one who’s a twin in whatever language.” But John never tells us whose twin. Twin is a label more than a name. At least it is in this Gospel.
So whose twin?
Well, some have speculated that it is Jesus’ twin. After all, Jesus had four brothers, “James, Joseph, Simon and Judas.” Perhaps it’s one of them. No. no. no. no. no. If that were the case, surely he’d have used his name. Simon, Jesus’ twin; or James, Jesus’ twin… and so on. But he doesn’t. I think that, once again, John is inviting us into some holy imagination and to a place in the Gospel story of Jesus.
What if Thomas were your twin or mine. What if what John’s doing here is like what he was doing with “the beloved disciple”: inviting us to see ourselves, to imagine ourselves in the story? What if Thomas were our twin?
The idea that, like Thomas, we’re late to the party and would love to meet Jesus feels reasonably familiar. If it were today, this very day, we’d probably want to hang tight with Jesus, and relish the closeness and the mystery. And we’d want to see, of course, and to check out his wounds and, so, declare our faith. “My Lord and my God.”
But our day and time would be different, of course, with wonderful and different sensibilities. The disciples of our time would be tripping over each other to get a selfie with Jesus. And Jesus would oblige. Hold that pose.
John is not a writer like the other Gospel writers in the Greek Scriptures. For one thing, the other Gospel writers were long gone when John wrote. Mark wrote first with plain, naked text, and simple sentences; and then Matthew and Luke, borrowing bits of Mark and other stuff; and after them, John. Scholars say late first century; early second century. Wow. Already that’s three or four or more generations after the life of Jesus. Women had kids in their early teens, so the generations unfolded more quickly then. You could be a grandparent at thirty.
John has his own remarkable style and his own way of telling the old, old story. I think, as my grandmother would have said, “He has poetry in his soul.” My grandmother could recite long reams of the great English, Irish and Scottish poets. And she loved stuff that called for imagination over plain understanding, the way poetry does. The way William Blake does. The way John does. She and I read of Hobbits together long before they were the stuff of the silver screen. I have an early copy of the Madras paper edition of the Lord of the Rings. I gave it to Grandmama for Christmas, 1969. And she had the good sense to return it to me when she died.
Of the Gospel of John?
You must never read it or hear it in exactly the same way you might have done once upon a time. You are invited, no less than anyone else, to imagine yourself among Jesus’ closest friends and in their adventures in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Imagine your place. Imagine your voice. Imagine your part. Imagine your lines. Imagine your Easter recognition. “My Lord and my God.”
Silence
May the words of my lips and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in God’s sight. And let the church say “Amen.” R/ Amen.
André Lavergne, CWA (The Rev.)
Church of St. John the Evangelist, Kitchener
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.