Skip to main content

LentArt: The Gentiles Ask to See Jesus

This morning’s #LentArt post was another painting by James Tissot from the Brooklyn Museum collection, like the one I posted on Palm Sunday, this one “The Gentiles Ask to See Jesus.” In this picture Jesus is his way up the steps of the Temple, towards its imposing pillared entrance. And standing at the head of the steeps like the proverbial gatekeepers of the House of the Lord are some of the representatives of the Jewish establishment. But Jesus is stopped on the steps by a request from some foreigners to meet him… 

Unlike previous posts this wasn’t chosen by me but by my guest blogger this evening, Julian Hamilton, someone who blogs as sporadically as I usually do over at https://www.joolshamilton.com/blog/ and is the Methodist Chaplain to another pillared establishment: 

These are fraught times. Unexpected and unwelcome trauma is visiting thousands of homes around this island, and around the world. There seems little respite. I am a chaplain to Trinity College Dublin, and my goodness what strange and epoch-defining times we are living through. College is closed down. Lectures have been cancelled except by online means – meeting rooms, libraries, canteens and the Pav ( the college BAR!) all lifeless, empty, forlorn - could I even call them sad? A few days I ago I saw photographs of Front Square in Trinity that the Provost of college had taken. It was completely empty. Completely. I wondered, could we call what I saw in those photos, soulless? Is it bricks and mortar that give a soul, a hope, a meaning, a presence, a sense of PLACE? Old and beautiful though those buildings may be, might it be the people present in a place that bring soul, however you understand soul? Is it soul that brings those buildings to life, PLACES were energy moves and is transformed, where conversation, learning, argument, loving, laughter and celebration have happened? Look at many of the buildings around us now? Desolate. Drained and drowsy? Could they be called Lost? The Gospel reading for this day in Holy Week begins with something we might miss unless we take a second with it - the whole reading in John 12, 20-36, and should you like to I invite you to take a few moments with it yourself, but here at the start notice, 
“Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” 
Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.” 
John 12:20-22 

The Greeks mentioned are in the middle of a Jewish festival demanding an audience with the star of the show. 

They are foreigners, the outsiders, they are not part of ‘us,’ they are asking to see the boss - in fairness, to even be mentioned and present at the festival they probably were sympathetic to the cause – but they were the outsiders, curious, maybe treated with suspicion – and they ask Philip the disciple if they can see Jesus and Philip isn't even sure it would seem, he asks Andrew and then they both go and check with Jesus! [EDITOR’S NOTE; even if they are Greek speaking Jews as many suggest, the Gospel of John is at pains to distinguish them from “the Jews” of Jerusalem – the “real” Jews.] 

It’s an interesting start to the passage – and it speaks of taking steps toward the master, from a place of questioning and query. A place of being outside of ‘Us’ – being ‘Them.’ [ANOTHER EDITOR’S NOTE: it could be that Philip, with his suspicious Hellenistic name could be one of “Them”] It speaks of just sticking a hand-up, probably in a bit of trepidation, and asking, “So, hey, what are the chances Jesus might have something to do with us? Can we come check him out too? Any chance the rest of us, can grab a moment?” 

Seems to me, that in a time such as we have at the moment around our campuses, our cities, our countryside, our island, our world, that it might be the perfect time to note Jesus’ answer in the passage above – the image of one seed dropping to seeming uselessness , but giving life to much fruit. 

In other words, “Listen, this God-life is bigger than you think; this way of life is wider than those on the inside imagine, there is life and fruit that is wider, bigger and longer lasting than what you can see right now.” 

In other words – those who consider themselves ‘outside’ or ‘distanced’ from God for any reason. You are maybe not as far as you think. These strange days in which we are living, these days with the shadow of death hanging over us, these can actually be holy days. So why not use this week, to metaphorically take a step in your mind and heart to pause and utter, ‘Excuse me, can I see Jesus too?’ 

Throw God out the challenge in these deserted, soulless, streets, and squares, pause and ask, “Right – where are you God? If you’re around at all, l think I’d like to chat.” Why not give it a go this Holy Week? You might be surprised. 

PRAYER: 
Lord God of Jew and Gentile 
Male and female, slave and free 
Us and them: 
Help us to see you… 
In others 
In unexpected places 
Rev. Julian Hamilton
In inauspicious times 

Help us to follow you… 
To set aside 
Our agendas 
Our ambitions 
Our preconceived notions 

To be prepared to die to self 
So that we can live for you 
And others 
And so produce much fruit 
To your glory 
In Christ’s name. AMEN 

Selah



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that

Psalm for Harvest Sunday

A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-