8Philip said to [Jesus,] “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” 9Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. 12Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. 13I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
Mixed Messages
History is in the hands of the writers, and it appears that the writers preferred Peter, the Sons of Thunder (the synchronous siblings James and John), and poor misunderstood Judas over the rest of the lot who followed Jesus around.
Take the disciples we commemorate today for example. Tell me what you know about them. I’ll wait…
Anybody? Bueller?
If the theme song from the show Cheers spits any truth, it reminds us that “Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name…”
But honestly, that’s about all we know with any certainty regarding the apostle Philip who says some sparing words in the scriptures, and the largely mute Saint James the Less, given that little moniker so you wouldn’t confuse him with that other James who gets more attention.
I guess there are worse things in life than having “the Less” attached to your name for all of history to repeat, but they’re not coming to mind at the moment…
Lore tells us that Saint Philip hailed from that storied town Bethsaida, where the Sons of Thunder are also from. It is said that following the Pentecost event, Saint Philip was married and traveled with his two daughters to what is modern day Turkey, spreading the Gospel with such fervor that the good folks of Phrygia crucified him on a Tau-shaped cross…which is why in iconography you often see Saint Philip holding the Greek letter Tau, a symbol of both his death and his eternal hope.
Saint James the Less we know…well…less about, even in lore. We don’t know where he went after the Pentecost event, and we don’t know who he was with, but legend has him dying a gruesome death either being sawed in half or beaten with a fuller’s club…which is why in icons of him he’s holding one of those objects.
Humanity has long had a fascination with death, obviously, and the church is unfortunately no exception.
But with so much death these days in Ukraine. In Gaza. In Charlotte, North Carolina just down the road from me. On the ticker at the bottom of my screen, and in the noise machine blaring from my phone, I’d rather not focus on that. A world that is as beautiful as ours and yet as deadly as ours…humans full of such potential and yet so full of such violence…we’re walking mixed messages, Beloved.
Icons themselves are kind of mixed messages if you think about it. As a collector of icons and as one who nerds out on the lives of the saints (probably why I was invited to preach today…no one wants to preach about saints no one knows, you know?), but as one who loves and collects icons I’ll be the first to admit that they’re mixed messages in and of themselves.
They depict someone we venerate, yet if they died a gruesome death they’ll often be holding the instrument of their demise.
They depict a historical figure, and yet through them we catch a glimpse of the Divine working in their story.
They depict someone in history, and yet their story lives on in perpetuity because the icon itself is a story about their story and the greater story of God they’re wrapped up in…
Mixed messages.
Which is kind of appropriate for today’s reading because today’s Gospel, chosen purely because Philip gets a bit part speaking role (one of his few in scripture) asking Jesus to give him something.
And what does Jesus give him?
No, seriously, that’s my question. What does Jesus give him other than this word soup? This soliloquy which is more images bending back on themselves than a cut and dry answer.
It feels like a mixed message.
In fact, the Scriptures themselves feel like a mixed message most of the time. Pull a verse from here and a verse from there and you can construct yourself a so-called holy word that says just about anything you want!
And humans have done that. Do that. Will do that.
As our own grumpy and yet blessed Martin Luther said, “Scripture has a wax nose…you can twist it any way you want.”
And speaking of Luther, can we talk about a walking mixed message? So full of wisdom. So full of guilt. So full of grace, and yet so full of it as he aged…
A good reminder that broken vessels sometimes contain holy things.
Or in other words, even mixed messages can hold life-giving meaning, Beloved.
So, what do we do, surrounded by all of these mixed messages?
Well, the bald and beautiful Reverend William Sloane Coffin (and there’s nothing but bald and beautiful, Beloved) says that,
“When everything biblical is not Christ-like, we Christians need to develop an interpretive theory of Scripture. I think the love of Jesus is indeed the plumb line by which everything is to be measured. And while laws may be more rigid, love is more demanding, for love insists on motivation and goes between, around, and way beyond all laws.”
And I’m going to take his wisdom one step further and say that we, Beloved, who attempt as best we can to follow The Way need not only an interpretive theory of scripture, but an interpretive theory of life. Of humans. Of everything.
Because the messages we get are so mixed, we have to come back to the core center of what makes it all beat, and Jesus is right that he is of God, and we know that God is Love itself, I think a core center to everything that we do must be able to trace itself back to that: Love.
Demanding love.
Liberating love.
Holy love.
Frustrating love.
Stubborn love.
Death might have a track record of consistently showing up, but love has proven it can even beat that, by God.
Powerful love over loveless power every time.
Love.
A love so demanding that it requires our hearts to break over and over again for a humanity that just can’t seem to get it together…
And yet, we can’t give up on it. For the great Love that began it all still thumps and beats for this world, and if God won’t abandon all hope, we can’t either, amen?
Saint Philip knew that, even until the very end.
Saint James the Less knew that, even until the very end.
And my fervent hope, my cloyingly clear belief in this existence of mixed messages, perhaps you can even say the central message at the core of the mixed message which is me, is that love is shown and known above everything else.
That I, like those icons I admire so much, my reflect a God who, despite what this world might say about them, is full of unexplainable, unrestrained love.
The divine interpretive lens in a world of mixed messages.
Saint Philip who said so little, and Saint James the Less who, as far as we know said nothing of interest to those writing the story, they are remembered today not for who they were as much as whose they were.
They were Loves very own.
And that’s worth remembering about them.
And about this world of mixed messages.
And about me, mixed message that I am.
And about you. Messy and gloriously mixed messaged you.
Amen.