April 5

April 5, 2009

When I Am Lifted Up
a sermon on John 12.27-36
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama

What makes Jesus so attractive? “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” What is the power of that attraction? What draws us to him? Why, in moments of happiness, do we look around with a sense of wonder and count our blessings—and think of him? Why, in moments of fear and confusion, do we look for him? Why is it that even when we are angry with God, something about Jesus holds on to us—as if we could never be mad at him for long?

Jesus is one of those people you would do anything for, just because he asked; and even if it was something unpleasant, you would enjoy it. There are not many people like that, and he is the head of the class. In fact, he is in a league all his own. A rare commander in the military, foreman on the jobsite, politician, or coach can elicit from his or her followers such wholehearted, enthusiastic support. But not many. There are coaches for whom players would do anything. They work hard just because they want to please coach. Can’t let coach down. There are officers and sergeants in the military, so beloved and revered by their troops that their slightest frown of disapproval is crushing, and at their word their troops will gladly attempt the impossible or rush to certain death. But as I say, they are rare. And also, their appeal is more narrow. A coach may be loved by the players, but not the fans. Or by the fans, but not by people who don’t like sports. A politician may achieve great results, but not be liked by those who know him best.

Jesus is like these people, but different. A look at his disciples shows us that. Twelve men left everything to chase his dream. And how different they were! Some were hard working fishermen. One was a former tax collector, which meant he had collaborated with the Roman occupying forces. He had worked for the enemy. At least one was (or had been) a zealot, which meant he dreamed of killing Romans and collaborators. It wasn’t just one class of people who found Jesus attractive. It wasn’t just one kind of person. Not only men, but women were drawn to the person and ministry of Jesus. Luke names several who supported the work financially. A woman at a well in Samaria found her life changed completely by a conversation with Jesus. And we can never forget the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume.

Both the rich and the poor were drawn to Jesus. Both the uneducated and the educated, Jews and Samaritans and Greeks—even a couple of Roman soldiers. One asked Jesus to say the word, and his servant would be healed. The other looked up at the corpse of Jesus, hanging on the cross, and said, “Surely this man was the Son of God.”

The Pharisees, as a class, did not like Jesus. Yet Nicodemus, a Pharisee, came to him by night. He was drawn to Jesus so strongly that he defied peer pressure, even if he tried to take precautions. He did not remain a secret disciple forever. The day came when he declared his allegiance. Joseph of Arimathea is another. He sat on the Sanhedrin, the Jewish high council that condemned Jesus and sent him to Pilate. He did not support their decision, and he showed his love for Jesus by seeing to his burial. What united all these people, so very different in so many important ways, in a common love for Jesus?

I know not everyone was or is drawn to Jesus. When he said, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself,” he was speaking with hyperbole. Just as easily as he won followers, he gained enemies. And there have always been those who simply did not understand him or did not care. Yet I wonder if they too are drawn, at least in the sense that his enemies find him compelling. People write books all the time claiming Jesus was never who we thought he was. Some are fiction, like The Divinci Code. Others come from scholars grinding an axe or still trying to get over growing up in church. Does the fact that people write this stuff and it finds an audience not tell us something important? I even wonder whether those who have no interest in Jesus at all might have somewhere toward the back of their minds an echo of his voice, but they don’t know who it belongs to. They have a longing, but they do not know it is he for which they long. I do wonder.

For 2,000 years and still today, people are drawn to Jesus. The rich, the poor; intellectuals and the ignorant; religious and non-religious people; in every century, on every continent. And again, even many who reject Jesus’ claims still want him around. So Muslims honor him as a prophet, and for many Hindus he is an avatar. Gandhi found nothing good in the church, but much that was good in Jesus. What’s the draw? What’s the appeal? C.S. Lewis claimed that nobody could read the gospels and come away thinking Jesus was an evil deceiver or a lunatic. Very few have. Jesus, as he is described in the gospels, strikes one as sincere and compelling. To say otherwise, you almost have to throw out the gospels and invent a totally different picture of Jesus, and then reject that. This is the strategy the modern world has tried. But I am too skeptical for that. After all, you can read the gospels and see for yourself that you are face-to-face with genius. Is it more likely that Jesus was a dull, ordinary person whose legacy benefitted from the imaginative genius of four separate biographers—or that the real genius stands behind the biographers in the man himself?

I have always said that if you are too comfortable with Jesus, you don’t know him well enough. He comforts us as no one else can. He knows our pain—he shares it—and somehow we know that he does. At the same time, he is always pushing us. He tells us to be perfect. He tells us to take up a cross. He tells us that if we try to save our lives we will lose them, and that the only way to save them is to pour them out for the sake of his kingdom.

The work he calls us to is hard. Don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t. If anyone else asked us to do it, we would rightly refuse. But Jesus? He is different. Why is it impossible to tell him no? Once you know him and he lives in you, you don’t want to let him down. So you say yes. And you try. Often you fail. And he picks you up again. One of our deacons asked a good rhetorical question recently about Simon Peter. You remember when Simon tried to walk to Jesus on the water but sank halfway? Well, where was Simon when his faith failed him? He wasn’t in the boat. … That’s our experience, if we give Jesus our best. We try, we fail, he picks us up, we try again. And sometimes, when we get run down and the weight of responsibility crushes us, we ask ourselves why. Why do I do it? Inside, part of us wants to quit. But the other part knows we won’t. We can’t. So we go to him again and ask for strength and healing. And we hope that he is working in us and through us, so that in the end everything will be the way he wants it. We know the outcome is up to him. It always is.

Why are we drawn to Jesus? Is it because he died for us? Is it because we recognize in his troubled soul a reflection of our own? Is it because his answer to fear and dread was to say, “Father, glorify your name”? Do we love him for saying that because we are not strong enough to say it and really mean it, or because we really do mean it when we say it? Is it because he is alive and through his Spirit comes to us to deal with us personally? Is it because he sees who we really are and he loves us anyway? Or because he looks past who we are to the best we could possibly be?

I don’t know. Sometimes a good question is better than a good answer, and this is one of those times. What makes Jesus so compelling? What draws us to this crucified man? “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” Why is that?

Personally I do not know why I am drawn to Jesus. I only know that I am. At my best and at my worst, I look to him. He is my one source of sanity in this crazy world. I have found him to be exactly what he described himself as—the only light in this dark world.

Why are you drawn to Jesus? Perhaps why doesn’t matter. It is enough that you are drawn to him. It is enough, that is, if you let go of your hesitation and doubt—then go to him.

I invite you to a solemn celebration of Holy Week. Follow Jesus from the adoring cheers of the crowd to his debates in the temple to the upper room to the palace of Pilate to the cross, the grave, and resurrection. Read the scriptures. Attend Holy Week services. Let yourself be drawn to him in faith. The Lord of life, the man from Nazareth—crucified for you and risen. Go to him, and walk in the light. Amen.

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