Subtract Four

John 12:20-33

I remember a time when I was sitting in the choir loft of my home church. I was in college then, and was already planning to go into the ministry as a pastor. Our seminary student, who worked with the youth, was preaching that day. I remember this because he made a mistake that all preachers make at least once. Good preachers make this mistake a few times, and great ones make it often.

This seminary student spoke the unvarnished truth to a congregation that liked things polished up nicely.I say it was a mistake because we all know that, when talking about things in the church, our goal is to never offend anyone. We are supposed to be “nice” at church, especially the preacher. We can be against sin, of course, just as long as it isn’t the particular sin of anyone present.

This seminary student made a mistake because at least one family was offended by what he said. I know they were offended because they got up, as a family, while he was still preaching. I know that people get up during services for lots of reasons, but rarely is it done during the sermon. Even more rarely does a whole family get up at the same time. I know they thought the seminary student had made a mistake because of their loud mutterings about how they didn’t have to take this in their own church, as they headed for the exits.

The student wasn’t particularly mean about what he said, as his illustration was primarily a thought experiment. The illustration he used didn’t pass judgment on a particular group of people, as it could be applied to everyone. Most people who hear it respond with humility, which is really the point of the exercise. And since Jesus taught us over and over again about humility, I am going to share this illustration with you this morning – which may be a mistake. If your response is humility, well and good. And if it isn’t, well then, humility is probably what you need.

Imagine, if you will, that everything you know can be contained in a circle. By definition, the edge of the circle is what you are aware of that you donot know. The more you know the bigger the circle, and the more that you are aware of that which you do not know. People who know a lot are also aware that there is a lot they do not know, and that is humbling.

Let me interrupt myself here – if this is where the illustration had ended, those people who got up and left may not have been offended. Clearly, this is an illustration about how there is more to life than what we can know. This is an illustration that points us to consider new possibilitiesin the face of uncertainty in the world around us. And yes,it is an illustration about being open to the mysteries of God, who is,by definition, more than we can fully know.

If the student had just made the point that God is more than we can know, and this humbles us, I might not have remembered that Sunday. But the student felt the need to make sure we all heard the other extreme of this illustration, as well. People who don’t know much, he continued, are not aware that they don’t know much, so they think they know everything. When you think you know everything, you tend to be certain about everything. You are certain about everything because you don’t know what you don’t know.

If you have watched the news, read the newspapers, and/or surfed the social media, you know there are a lot of people out there who are really certain about a lot of stuff. This lack of humility is deafening, as people who are certain they know all there is to know about something shout at others who are just as certain that they also know all they need to know about this something.

And while I may be wrong about this, even though God knows everything, I don’t think that is the part of the image of God we are called to reveal as disciples of Jesus Christ. Instead of reflecting the omniscience of God, we are to reflect the love of God as revealed in Jesus Christ – who, after all, confessed to not knowing everything.

We began the Lenten season defining our discipleship problem, that we prefer our self-image to the image of God. We like to think of ourselves as rugged individualists, instead of as children of God. We like to think we can save ourselves, instead of being dependent on the grace of God. We like to think we have God figured out, instead of coming before God in humility. And we like to think we are certain about what we know about the world and the people in it, instead of loving our neighbors as Christ has loved us.

During Lent, based on our scripture readings, I have been suggesting to you that the way to grow as disciples is to subtract those parts of our self-image that are not part of the image of God. Growing as a disciple is about recognizing the unvarnished truth that while we are created in the image of God, we have fallen from grace into sin. The unvarnished truth is that becoming a disciple requires subtracting any part of our image that does not reflect God, who is revealed in Jesus Christ.

To help us identify the parts of our image that we need to chip away, we subtract from the time we spend thinking about earthly things so that we can think about heavenly things. We also subtract the notion that we can save ourselves by our own efforts. But there is still more we can do to grow as disciples of Jesus Christ. Today, our scripture suggests we subtract what may be the scariest part of our self-image to lose. We need to subtract from our certainty so that we can have more humility.

In our reading, Jesus says that his soul is now troubled. The source of his trouble is found in verses 24-25: Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Jesus is faced with a choice between life and death, between loving his life and setting aside his life.

There is a conflict between two obvious goods that are before Jesus, and he has to choose. The first good is the preservation of life. We know it is good to preserve life, particularly when it is threatened. We know it is good to preserve life, particularly when it is our own. We do what we can to continue living. That is the first good.

And the second good, which only Jesus can do, is the sacrificial death that will be the atonement for our sins. Only Jesus, as the Son of God and as the messiah, can do this. If he dies for us on the cross, this will be for the good of all sinners, for all people, for all time.

This is the trouble in the soul of Jesus. If Jesus dies, it does much good. If Jesus loves his life, then the good of salvation is lost. Two choices, two goods, one troubled soul. How does Jesus choose? The gospel reading tells us that Jesus receives an assurance from the voice of God as he prays.

When we have a choice between an obvious good and an obvious evil, our soul will be troubled if we choose the obvious evil. We know the way to have peace in our soul is to choose the obvious good. But when there is a conflict between two goods, we are also troubled. Even if one good seems obviously the better choice, we have the problem of denying the good of the other choice. In times like this, we want certainty that we are making the right choice. Yet, truth is that all God offers us is the assurance of God’s grace while we are yet sinners.

Now, you may be wondering, aren’t we the people who believe that we are going on to perfection? And wouldn’t perfect people be certain about the things of God? Skipping past the obvious point that even Jesus faced uncertainty, we are being called to perfection in love, not knowledge. There is infinite space beyond our circle of knowledge, which should make us humble, not certain. We are called to perfection in love, not practice. We are limited in what we can do since none of us has unlimited power and resources.

This is why, in his pamphlet titled, “The Character of a Methodist,” Wesley began by saying a Methodist is not distinguished by their opinions, their terminology, or their actions. Methodists, to use the expression of Wesley’s, “think and let think.” Methodists, in humility, do not lift up a particular position to the most important, or the only certain, position of true believers.

So, if you chip those certainties away, what is left? Do we allow speculative latitudinarianism, which means that you can believe or do whatever you want because, after all, you can’t be certain that what we choose to do and believe is right or wrong? Methodists have certainly been accused of that.And usually the accusation is made by those who are certain that they alone know the truth of Jesus Christ.

What’s left, according to Wesley, is this: A Methodist is one who has "the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost given unto him;" one who "loves the Lord his God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind, and with all his strength. God is the joy of his heart, and the desire of his soul; which is constantly crying out, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee! My God and my all! Thou art the strength of my heart, and my portion forever!"

Wesley then went on for 2500 words to flesh out what that confession of faith means. So, let me sum it up for you. A Methodist, a disciple, a Christian, is someone who has traded certainty of knowledge for the assurance of God’s love. It doesn’t make any difference if we have it right in our heads, if it is not first right in our hearts. Discipleship, at its core, is about loving God and loving our neighbors.

The tract ends with these famous words: “Is thy heart right, as my heart is with thine? I ask no farther question. If it be, give me thy hand. For opinions, or terms, let us not destroy the work of God. Dost thou love and serve God? It is enough. I give thee the right hand of fellowship.”

We live in a culture that is constantly tempted to make something into an absolute good.We do it for the express purpose of being certain about something in this world. These things that we lift up as absolute good may in fact be good, and they can be very good, but they become idolatrous when we are certain that in every case, in every way, by every consideration, this thing is always and absolutely good. This is how our false idols are revealed, because we make them the gods we turn to in certainty, instead of coming humbly before the God revealed in Jesus Christ.

I want to revisit that illustration we started with. This time, imagine that all the sins you are aware of in your life are contained in a circle. The edge of the circle, by definition, would be those places in your life where you have experienced the grace of God. The more you are aware that you have sinned, the bigger the circle becomes, and the more you experience of the grace of God. This is why the holiest people are humble: they see themselves as the chief of sinners. In their humility, they know the only thing we can claim is the assurance of the love of God revealed in Jesus Christ.

If you have not been aware of God’s grace in your life, if your “circle of sin” is so very small, then might I suggest that you look for those single grains falling into the earth, those seemingly little things that end of meaning so much to us. It might be that God has been surrounding you with grace all along, only you didn’t know to call it that. To grow as a disciple of Jesus Christ, trade a little certainty for a lot of the assurance that Jesus loves you. I think you will find it a humbling experience.

UMH 382 “Have Thine Own Way, Lord”