John 12:20-33
Young people today have been called the “selfie generation.” Selfies are, of course, photos that people take of themselves, typically with their phones, and then post online. The word “selfie” was Oxford Dictionaries’ word of the year in 2013. There are trends within the selfie genre, if you will. For example, certain faces are popular, particularly with teenage girls: there’s the duck face and the peace sign and the duck face with the peace sign (all of which look ridiculous on someone 51 years old!). Some people take selfies to show their new clothes or haircut, or selfies with their friends or dinner companions. Then there are those who try to get selfies with famous people to show that they met Tom Hanks, or make it look like they regularly hang out with Taylor Swift or Josh Hutcherson.
Experts and pundits alike have had a field day with the selfie epidemic. Is it a sign that the next generation is self-absorbed? Are we narcissistic egomaniacs? Is it a sign that some people need to be constantly on-stage, in the spotlight, or have to live their entire lives in the public eye? Is it a search for validation, for affirmation, basing our self-esteem on how many “likes” or “retweets” we get?
The concept of the selfie even infiltrated our leisurely lectionary group this week! We were discussing the Greeks in this passage, who wanted to see Jesus. The identity of the Greeks is unclear. They could have been Jews “from away,” who were traveling to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. Or they could have been Gentiles, more like religious tourists, traveling to Jerusalem to witness the sights and sounds of Passover, without any religious obligations, themselves. I shared this info with the Bible study group, and I asked, “Why do you think they wanted to see Jesus? Were they asking for a real encounter with Jesus? Or did they want a story to tell, to add to their travel diary? Did they want an autograph?” Terry Dellaire said, “They wanted to take a selfie with Jesus!” So I offer my thanks and copyright credit to Terry for this morning’s sermon title!
His comment was meant as a joke, but it actually got me thinking. Is that what we want? Is that sometimes why we come to church, or why we serve on a committee? To do the equivalent of take a selfie with Jesus? “Hey, look, here I am hanging out with Jesus! We’re such close friends.” Or maybe we are doing the equivalent of flashing a selfie peace sign, like “See? I’m UCC. I’m all about peace and justice!” It’s rather a frightening question to consider. Are we really after an authentic encounter with Christ?
One theologian I read this week had a very interesting take on this story of the Greeks who wanted to see Jesus. He compared them to people today who call themselves “Spiritual but not religious.” Dr. David Lose writes: “SBNR [Spiritual But Not Religious] denotes those folks who are indeed open to a sense of mystery, curious about the divine, wonder about God and the spiritual life…but have not found those inclinations and needs met by traditional religious institutions.”[1]
We tend to think of this as a new phenomenon, an invention of the last decade, but it’s not. “Thirty or so years ago, pollsters interested in the practice of religion in America began to ask folks to self identify in one of four categories: religious but not spiritual, spiritual but not religious, both, neither.” Thirty years ago a large number of people said they were “religious but not spiritual,” and a much smaller group said they were SNBR. Now that ratio has flipped. [2] We tend to look back at the world thirty, forty, fifty years ago, when pews across the country were full and churches were thriving, as a time when people were more spiritual. No, they weren’t. They were more religious. The ritual meant something to them; or maybe the community meant something to them; maybe the social status that came with a certain church membership, or fulfilling societal expectations meant something to them. But they weren’t more spiritual. One of my colleagues, tired of yet another article about how the church in America is dying, said rather snarkily: “The church isn’t dying. Our stock was over-valued and we’re going through a market correction!”
Now I want to be clear that I’m talking about the big church and not this local congregation when I say this, but I wonder if maybe those who stopped coming to church over the years did so because they had taken enough selfies with Jesus. Or maybe that was all we offered them.
But so far in my application I have ignored one of the important theories about the proliferation of selfies. Some experts say that selfies are not narcissistic, but are a healthy form of self-expression, even self-definition. This is who I am, duck face and all. One expert says “We all have a need to assert who we are, and understand who we are in the context of a wider world.”[3] So even if we are here at church taking selfies with Jesus, maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s our way of saying, “This is who I am. I am a follower of Jesus. I am a child of God.” Maybe we’re not looking for affirmation from others because we know who we are, and we proclaim it. Or maybe that’s what we want, when we come here. Maybe we want an authentic relationship, and maybe we don’t know where to start.
Let’s take a look back at our scripture, because I’ve taken us rather far afield. The Greeks asked to see Jesus. They went to Philip because “Philip” was a Greek name, and he was from the town of Bethsaida, which had a mixed population of Jews and Greeks; so Philip was more likely to speak their language. That, in and of itself, is an interesting thing for us to ponder, because the “SBNR” folks, if they come to us, will not speak the language of the church. They will come to people who can speak their language. But that’s another sermon!
When Jesus was told that some Greeks wanted to meet him, he replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” and then talked about dying wheat and hating life. As far as we know, the Greeks never got a private audience with Jesus. Instead they—and the rest of the crowd, apparently—got to hear Jesus predict his own death. According to John, Jesus said, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” Not wanting to leave this open to our interpretation, John goes on to clarify: “He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.”
So the Greeks wanted to meet Jesus and instead they were pointed to the cross. How could this possibly fulfill their wish? Whether they only wanted a selfie with a famous person, or whether they wanted a self-defining relationship, either way, is this good news?
I have to quote another scholar here because he says it so eloquently. Dr. Scott Hoezee, writes:
Jesus would draw all people to himself on that cross, but would anyone come? Would anyone let themselves be drawn, or would they hide their faces, turn aside, run away, look for someone else who appeared to be going somewhere worth following? “Sir, we would see Jesus” the Greeks said to Philip. In a way, everything Jesus said in verses 23-36 was an extended answer to that request, as though Jesus were saying to these Greeks, “It’s OK that you want to see me, but wait a few days. I invite you to come and see me Friday afternoon. You won’t be able to miss me. You’ll know me when you see me. I’ll be the suffering and dying one. But I hope you’ll come by to see me anyway.”[4]
This is, at least in part, what Lent and Holy Week are about. You want to see Jesus? Excellent! Then look toward the cross, because you cannot know him without it. Not because we are saved by his death, but because we are saved by his life. Not because he had to die for our sins, but because he had to live to challenge the sins of the system, and the way he lived inevitably led to the cross.
I will admit to you that this has not always been my theology. I grew up in a theological worldview that we are so sinful, God had no choice but to give his Son to die for us. And God would have done it just for one of us. So I grew up believing I was responsible for Jesus’ death, and therefore I had to suffer whatever came my way, because suffering brings salvation. (I talked about this from a theological standpoint a few weeks ago, and now I share it from a personal point of view.)
After I rejected that theology, I rejected the cross. I remember in my first church, where I was the associate pastor, the senior pastor was teasing me about how informative it was for him to stand next to me in worship. Why? Because there were so many song lyrics I refused to sing. The song that particular Sunday was “Lift high the cross”: “Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim.” I came in on the second half of that line. I had no trouble proclaiming the love of Christ, but I did not want to lift up or exalt a tool of suffering. I still don’t—at least not as a tool of suffering for suffering’s sake. But now I recognize that I cannot see Jesus if I am not willing to see the cross.
“Sir, we wish to see Jesus,” the Greeks said, or in the language of the King James version, “We would see Jesus.” Those words are engraved on brass plaques on the insides of pulpits across the country as a reminder to the preacher that the people sitting in front of him or her are wanting to see Jesus in their sermon. I believe this is true of you, and I join you. I would see Jesus, too.
So let’s imagine again Jesus’ answer: “It’s OK that you want to see me, but wait a few days. I invite you to come and see me [next] Friday afternoon. You won’t be able to miss me…. I’ll be the suffering and dying one. But I hope you’ll come by to see me anyway.”
[1] Lose, David. “Lent 5B – Spiritual But Not Religious.” www.davidlose.net
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ouellette, Jennifer. As quoted in “The Science of Selfies” by Alan Boyle. www.nbcnews.com/science.
[4] Hoezee, Scott. Center for Excellence in Preaching. http://cep.calvinseminary.edu