Sermon for Lent 5B
John 12:20-33
John 12:20-33
Today’s Gospel passage ends
rather starkly and perhaps somewhat cryptically: “Now is the judgment of the world; now the
ruler of this world will be driven out.”[1] In John’s Gospel “the world” is consistently
described as something other than God’s intended created order. At one point in John’s Gospel Jesus says to
the Pharisees and others gathered with them, “You are from below, I am from
above; you are of this world, I am not of this world.”[2] The world, as used in John’s Gospel, refers
to “the fallen realm that exists in estrangement from God” since the beginning
of time.[3] It is, according to Duke Divinity School’s
preaching professor Charles Campbell, a place that “is organized in opposition
to God’s purposes.”[4] And so early in John’s Gospel we hear, “The
true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the
world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know
him.”[5] And yet this knowing God through Jesus is,
according to John’s Gospel, the primary reason Jesus enters the world in the
first place[6]. “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. .
. .” But again and again, God’s purpose is thwarted as the “people loved
darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”[7]
The world is no longer the same
as the created order we hear about in Genesis.
There is no longer harmony between the heavens and the earth. There is no longer harmony between one human
and another. There is no longer a pure
loving relationship between humans and God.
This is the World of John’s Gospel, a world that might better be
referred to as the Powers and Principalities his world might better be referred
to as it is in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians as “this present darkness,” a
place in which the entire world is trapped in structures and institutions that
shape our lives and, in fact, which work to hold us captive to the ways of
domination, violence and death.[8]
We do not have to look very
far to see what types of institutions and structures hold us captive - things
like consumerism, “hierarchies of winners and losers,” the countless –isms and –phobias
that blind our eyes, and violence.
Violence is, sadly, very much in the news again these days. Early in the week students from around the country
– including more than 3000 from Evanston Township High School – held a
walk-out as they stood in solidarity with the students of Parkland, Florida
demanding that the government take action to ensure their safety. For no child
should go to school afraid. Later that
same day, a report of a gunman at Northwestern University locked down that
entire campus and the schools in the surrounding neighborhoods. Thousands upon thousands of students,
faculty, staff members and concerned citizens watched their Twitter feeds for
updates and texted messages to family members and friends: “I love you. I’m
safe.” That report turned out to be a
hoax but the experience of those in lock-down was very real and a reminder of
the constant fear we live with.
Violence traps us and holds
us captive. Violence also works to
preserve the –isms and –phobias of our time. Why is it that a nation listens
when a high school in a Miami suburb is the victim of gun violence and remains
largely deaf to the cries of “Black Lives Matter?” How is it that a nation
hears the cries of young people in Parkland – a city “known for its zoning
laws. . . designed to protect the ‘park-like’ character of the city,” a city where 85% of the residents are white, a
city where the median household income is more than $130,000 – but cannot hear
the cries of the young people in Chicago where 80% of the victims of gun
violence are African-Americans, despite African-Americans making up only 31% of
the City of Chicago’s population.[9] Why
do we join the marches and protests for Parkland and decry similar protests for
Black Lives Matters as riots? That is a
question we all must grapple with. It is a question the Episcopal Church must
grapple with and one which the Diocese of Chicago must grapple with as we join
next Saturday in the “March for Our Lives” – a march for safety in our schools organized
by young people to say “not one more.”[10]
As we near the end of our
Lenten journey, we are reminded again of the need for confession and bold
repentance. Confessing our complicity in
the systems, the institutions and structures that hold up violence as an
answer, the institutions and structures that blind us to the systemic racism of
our world, we are called to repent and to seek out another way. Jesus points us to the other way. Jesus demonstrates his own rejection of the
institutions and structures of the world when, after his arrest, Pilate asks
him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” and Jesus responds, “My kingdom is not
from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting
to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not
from here."[11]
My kingdom is not a part of this present darkness, with its violence and
hatred. If it were, my followers would
be violently fighting and filled with hate.[12] “But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”[13] Jesus us points us to another way – the way
of Jesus, the way of God.
 |
| Jordyn Michaels |
When I first learned of the
March for Our Lives being organized in Chicago, I reached out to the young
people involved and encouraged them to speak with the organizers of Black Lives
Matter who have been working against violence in our streets and in our
neighborhoods for years.[14] I was greatly heartened when I received this
reply from organizer Jordyn Michaels, “We just had an amazing meeting with some
members from the Black Lives Matter movement and we are working proudly
together with them!” Not long after,
March for Our Lives organizers moved the march from Grant Park to Union Park on
the Near West Side and in this was their explanation for that move:
We
chose Union Park . . . because it is essential for us to stand with all
communities that have been affected by gun violence. Union Park is in a
family-friendly community environment, emblematic of the different issues
Chicago faces. We want our rally and march to be the most intersectional and
wide-reaching event in gun reform history. . . . For those who are concerned
for safety and about coming to a neighborhood that is not the loop, our answer
to this concern is that these are our neighborhoods, communities, and children
we are marching for. We are committed to ensuring that this movement is to
protect students in schools and communities everywhere -- from Parkland to the
South and West sides of Chicago. A life lost to gun violence is a life, too
many. Our motto has been and will continue to be: In Chicago We March for Our
Lives Everyday.[15]
Overcoming the darkness is something
that only God can do and it is something that God has done and is doing. It is
the already and not yet nature of God.
But you and I are not to sit by waiting for God’s work to be complete.
In fact, one might question whether God’s work can be complete without our
participation. You and I are called to
work toward casting out darkness in our own time with the gift of light God has
given us. God’s kingdom is not of this
world. God’s ways are not of this world. And so we, like the organizers of March
for Our Lives, must look for God-ly ways to respond to the violence and the
hate – not returning violence for violence, not exchanging hate for hate – but exposing
the darkness for what it is – a trap, a place that seeks to hold us captive, a
place that is not of God.[16] I hope you will join me and countless others
from throughout our diocese in participating in Chicago’s March for Our Lives
next Saturday so that in exposing the darkness of violence and hate, they will
begin to lose their power. And, isn’t
that what happened on the cross? Jesus
exposed the darkness and by exposing it he judged it and cast it out.[17] “Now
is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out.
And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”[18]
[1] John
12:31.
[2] John 8:23.
[3] Charles
L. Campbell, “John 12:20-33, Reflection,” in Daily Feast: Meditations from Feasting on the Word: Year B, edited
by Kathleen Long Bostrom and Elizabeth F. Caldwell (Louisville: Westminster
John Knox Press, 2011), p. 208.
[4] Campbell,
p. 208.
[5] John
1:9-10.
[6]
Campbell, p. 208.
[7] John
3:17, 19.
[8]
Ephesians 6:12, Campbell, p. 208.
Chip Mitchell, “Every Other Hour: In Chicago, A StarkRacial Disparity in Gun Violence,” (Chicago: WBEZ91.5 Chicago, May 15, 2017), accessed March 17, 2018.
[10] “MissionStatement,” March for Our Lives, accessed March 17, 2018.
[11]
John 18:33, 36a.
[12]
Campbell, p. 209.
[13]
John 18:36b.
[14] Facebookpost, February 25, 2018, 9:51 pm, ,
accessed March 17, 2018.
[15]
March for Our Lives Chicago, Facebook Post, March 13, 2018, 9:43 pm, ,
accessed March 17, 2018.
[16]
Campbell, p. 209.
[17]
Campbell, p. 208.
[18]
John 12:31-2.
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