August 18, 2024
Pentecost + 13
Friends,
When I was working for the Lutheran national church,I was attentive to how I referred to myself when dropped into a multifaith group – a group of people ofdifferent faiths.
I remember a formative event in Edmonton, wherein a room as large as the hall next door served as an annual meeting place for a group of Muslims and Christians. The Muslims were from different denominations and communities of origin. The Christians were from different denominations and communities of origin. Edmonton has been in the forefront of Muslim-Christian engagement in Canada, with no small measure of thanks to some good Anglican leadership.
Anyway, we were seated randomly, some of us in dress or ornament which might give aways our faith, but many simply wearing street clothes and nothing to tip their hand. In that context, telling a Muslim that I was a Lutheran or Anglican might easily draw a blank stare. So, I would simply say, “I’m a follower of Jesus”. People nodded. The particular brand of Christian was not a helpful point of first contact. “I’m a follower of Jesus.” And I could expand or not, depending on the desire of the table. (Christians, on the other hand, were always pretty nosy about what sort of Christians the other Christians were and would suss it out.)
Interestingly, as I explore our downtown neighbourhood, many of the people I encounter are more comprehending when I use that same expression. “I’m a follower of Jesus.” Many have no idea about Lutherans or Anglicans or any other brands but there is a flash of recognition, when I refer to Jesus. How we self-describe, as people of faith, matters. It makes a difference.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus self-describes. Jesus uses a term which will appear some 80 times in the 4 Gospelsand only 4 or 5 times anywhere else in the New Testament. He will use a term that the Apostle Paul never used. Not even once. Mark used it relativelyoften in his short Gospel. Matthew and Luke, who borrowed from the Gospel of Mark, almost twice as much. They liked it. And John used it about the same number of times as Mark, as he does in today’s Gospel.
What did Jesus call himself? What term did Jesus use that was always self-referential and never, ever used by anyone else about him or by him about anyone else?His disciples called him “rabbi” (teacher), “master” in the Gospel of Luke or maybe Jesus (Jeshuah) when they let their hair down at the end of a day. But Jesus called himself “son of man”. “Son of man.” It’s not a name (like Jesus) but neither is it a title (like rabbi). It’s simply an expression.
Of course, our Gospels were written in Greek but Jesus didn’t speak Greek. And the expression, “son of man”, in Greek, would have struck the Greek ear as weird. (I like the current resurgence of the use of the term“weird”.) Anyway, Jesus spoke Aramaic. So he would have been saying “Bar ‘ěnoš.” “Son of man.” “Son of man” was an every-day Semitic expression referring to a single member of the human family, a particularhuman being, hence “someone.” I am a human being, is what Jesus was communicating. I’m human, like you. I’m someone.
Daniel, in the Hebrew Scriptures also used the expression in a night vision: someone called “son of man” was seen riding with the clouds in the heavens, he says, to come before God, whom Daniel calls “Ancient of Days”. I love “Ancient of Days.” I like to use it when I compose the prayers of the people, whenI want to have us think of God as the author of time itself. Son of man, in a vision, addressing Ancient of Days, in the heavens. That vision entered the Jewishpsyche —the psyche of Jesus’ own people” — as a vision of the coming of Messiah. But remember, in the Jewish psyche, Messiah is a human being, hence Daniel’s use of the term “son of man” with Messiahovertones.
So Jesus calls himself “a human someone” and in the gospels that “human someone” carries hints of messiah which for Jews was a human, while for Christians, it became a differentiating human aspect of God, and eventually, the human face of the Holy Trinity.
Now, in the New Testament the strange figure mentioned by Daniel traveling in the clouds to meet the Ancient of Days is almost always identified with Jesus.
But there’s one more little bit that goes along with the Aramaic phrase, “Son of man” or “bar ‘ěnoš”. “Bar ‘ěnoš” also carries with it the sense of being human as opposed to God, with an understanding of weaknessagainst power, frailty in the face of invulnerability,humility against ultimacy and mortality against immortality. All of that stuff is lost in the Greek and then English translation.
So Jesus taught, as one who had authority, out of real-worldly human weakness and out of frailty and with humility and with a full grasp of his own mortality. Jesus will die. Jesus will die a terrible, atrociously Roman, human death, with a spear in his side to check for signs of life. And he’s prepared for that. He’s that sort of Messiah.
We minister, in Jesus’ name, out of our weakness and frailty, and with humility and shared mortality. We minister out of our very humanity as Jesus did. We are someones, too, in that great adventure. Each of you, like Jesus, is a someone. But you are followers of Jesus and so you are called to minister to other someones as Jesus did, in Jesus’ name. In here. Out there.
For people who follow Jesus, our outward-bound adventure is a journey which, week to week, begins anew at this table. The greater adventure, the whole arc of our very lives, began at the font, where we are adopted into God’s family. But in the Eucharist, we are sustained in our great adventure, and we receive the real presence of Christ, a real presence we are called to communicate to the world out there, to a world in need, to a world of someones.
Last week, my friend James’ sermon was exactly on point. “The living of life is about sharing who we have become in Jesus Christ.” “We offer a foothold for a proclamation of grace.” “Sharing bread is a call to action.” It’s another way of framing the same story. Weproclaim the real presence of Christ at the table and through our ministry, the presence of Christ in our community. God’s mission. Our ministry.
We minister out of our weakness and frailty, with humility and shared mortality as Jesus did and in Jesus’name. We are followers of Jesus.
Silence.
And may the church say “Amen”. Amen.
André Lavergne CWA (Pastor)
Honourary Assistant,
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.