Seeing, Staying

Text: John 1:29-42

John’s is a strong-flavored Gospel.

And it is therefore not always to everyone’s liking. It mixes powerful themes that seem sometimes to oppose one another: theological sugar and salt—light and darkness, life and death, people who are favored and those who are cursed. It is not like Matthew, Mark, and Luke, which share with each other a common heritage and though very nourishing are perhaps less savory than John. And for some, easier to swallow.

Some people see the Gospel of John as a kind of religious and missional travelogue. In it, Jesus moves back and forth from place to place, talking with whomever he finds there. He visits exotic locales—like Samaria, not normally popular with the Judeans—and gathers new followers along the way. Some are content to listen to him, learning about a new way to live. And some end up pulling up roots and becoming disciples, living in that new way. We hear the beginning of all that in today’s reading.

In it, Andrew and another nameless follower of John the Baptist are immediately drawn to Jesus, and they abandon John on the spot. (This sort of thing seems to happen quite a lot with Jesus—even in our time). When Jesus notices them walking toward him, he speaks his first words in this Gospel: What are you looking for? What do you seek? The disciples oddly reply: Where are you staying? Come, Jesus says—is this an answer? it is hard to say—Jesus says: Come, you will see. Come and see.

Seeing and staying are two of those strong themes in John. The words for both of them appear more often in John’s writing than in any other book of the Bible. The fact that they are a part of Jesus’ first conversation—almost all of it, really—is not an accident.

The two ideas represent two flavors of discipleship, which in some eras (ours, for example) seem to be in conflict. It is a persistent dichotomy, two different answers to the same question: What does it mean to be a follower of Jesus? How does one live a Christian life?

On the one hand (the “seeing” side) is a kind of observational life. Come and see. The word that John uses is sometimes translated as “knowing.” On this side are all the worshipful and prayerful disciplines that Christians rightly cultivate and value. This is a faith of the senses. Looking, watching, enjoying. Finding God in beauty, in relationships. In our own hearts, calm or excited. In listening to music, pondering and savoring poetry. Seeing God in our studies and research.

In this way of living, there is a sense of anticipation and expectation on our part. Waiting for something to happen. By seeing things we make discoveries that change our lives. In our religious life, we hope for such discoveries and changes. It is one of the many reasons we worship and study together, expecting the Spirit to reveal God and God’s will to us, and to guide us. It is an essential part of some religious orders and, in a less intensive way, of spiritual retreats.

On the other hand (the “staying” side) is a kind of participatory life. The word that John uses is also translated as remaining, living, dwelling, abiding. Where are you staying, the disciples ask. Where are you at? How do you stand? What is your position? On this side are all the Christian good works, things we do in the world because they represent obedience to the commands and teachings of Jesus. And conform to his example. Be compassionate first and foremost. Feed the hungry, visit the prisoners. Turn the other cheek. Do not judge others. Love your enemies.

This way of living is not necessarily a religious life as normally conceived. It is religious because it comes out of our promise to follow Jesus. And though we are not looking to find God in these works, we in fact usually do.

People help others directly—social services, as we might say—to relieve suffering. They work politically to change systems of violence and injustice and to prevent suffering. And they work at ordinary jobs always keeping in mind that they are first of all disciples of Jesus.

None are completely obedient to Jesus whom they follow. They try to live—ideally—as if they lived with Jesus. As a roommate, say, or a member of one’s family, or good friend. Could they go home at night and relate their day to Jesus with a good conscience and a straight face? How was your day? Not bad.

What do you seek? There is a longing in everybody, I think, to live a deeply spiritual life. And certainly so for people who gather into churches. We are called here by the same God who turned the disciples toward Jesus. There is something in us that wants, in some way that is hard to talk about, to be very close to God, to be intimately connected to God. And the other thing we really want to do is to change the world for the better.

As the disciples did, we see in Jesus a way to do that. Jesus is revealed to us—that is what Epiphany means. We follow Jesus because we think he is the best guide, and that he is a trustworthy one. And because we suspect through experience that we cannot make it on our own. When Jesus asks the disciples what they seek, that is what they answer. We want to know where you are staying, they say. We want to be there, too. We want to go where you are going and to live in a way that we can best learn by being with you, abiding with you, living in the same place as you.

In the course of their lives together, Jesus teaches them. He instructs them, for example, in the sermon on the mount, which is the focus of the Gospel readings for almost all of the rest of Epiphany and a kind of instruction manual. And he heals people and he feeds them, and he gets into trouble with the authorities, and he does miraculous deeds. He sees the world differently than we usually do.

When the disciples ask to stay with Jesus, he shows them how to see with the eyes of Jesus. Seeing and staying turn out not to be such different things. Jesus knows that he will not always be with his followers on this earth, but they can learn to see as he sees. That is why “Come and see” is a good answer to “Where are you staying?” It is not a tricky answer.

For if we see things as Jesus sees, won’t we find ourselves called to abide with him? And if we stay with Jesus for very long, won't we inevitably see as he sees?