It has been the custom for many centuries now for much of the Christian church to dedicate the six weeks prior to Easter to a concentrated and serious look at Jesus and the events surrounding the last days of his earthly life. We call this the season of Lent. I know that there are many things in your life and mine that vie for our attention in this time of year that have nothing to do with Lent. If you are a sports-minded person you are watching the Olympics and preparing for the March Madness of NCAA basketball. If you like to travel you are planning your summer itineraries. If you follow politics you might be focused on conservative political conventions and the passing of a former Secretary of State. No matter what your interests and passions, I’m sure there are plenty of things filling your thoughts and your days that have nothing to do with an ancient Christian celebration. And yet, here you are, in a service of worship focused on a person who lived nearly 2000 years ago. Something in you—like something in me—cannot escape the conviction that Jesus is still someone with whom we must contend. And that is exactly what I propose to do in these six weeks. Beyond all the other things of life that will surely claim our attention from now until April 4, I am convinced that the most important thing is this man whose death and resurrection stands as the pivotal event of history. I want to know more about Jesus, and frankly, I want to know him better, not just facts about him. And I think you do, too.

Our guide this Lenten season will be a major section of the Gospel According to John. Through John’s report we are going to dwell for a while with Jesus. As we pick up the story in John, the buzz about Jesus has stepped up a notch due to his dazzling display of power in bringing Lazarus back from the dead. You can bet that people in Jerusalem are still talking about this news as they gather for the celebration of the Passover. When Jesus comes into the city the buzz gets stronger still. And so it comes as no surprise that people want to know who Jesus really is and what he is really like. Some people think they were Greek-speaking Jews, others think they were not Jews at all but rather Gentiles from Greece, but in any case, a group of people come to one of Jesus’ disciples and ask to see Jesus. “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

Clearly, these Greek visitors to Jerusalem are not interested in just looking at Jesus. They want to meet him, to talk to him, to get to know him. Maybe they’re just curious about this person everyone is talking about. Maybe they are truly seeking a deeper knowledge of God or a more powerful experience of God’s power. We can’t quite know, but we do know that their intention and desire was strong enough for the story of their visit to earn mention in John’s account of Jesus’ life. It would be very hard to dismiss this brief episode as anything less than a genuine request by some people who really did want to “see” Jesus.

How about you? Would you like to see Jesus? Sometimes I think you and I go through life thinking that we already know Jesus pretty well and there is nothing much more to learn. I meet people all the time who really aren’t all that interested in Jesus. But is Jesus worth getting to know? Is Jesus complex enough that there is always more to learn about him, maybe even more to learn from him? Are there some things that we think we know but aren’t really so? There is so much more in the world to learn about than just Jesus. And the story about Jesus is so old. But there is no historic person about whom more is written. There is no religious figure that has had more impact on world history. And there is no one to compare to him regarding the story we celebrate at Easter—that he was dead, but brought back to life by God. Yes, we wish to see Jesus. And we wish to keep looking, to keep learning, to keep moving to deeper and deeper levels of knowledge and experience and true knowing.

Philip goes and tells Andrew and together they go and tell Jesus that there are some people who want to get to know him. And Jesus begins to talk about who he is and what he is doing in the world. And he does more than talk. He demonstrates in graphic and memorable scenes that are now part of the church’s cherished memory about him. The first thing Jesus says is this: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Glorified: now there’s an interesting word. When you and I think of glory we think of gold medals, endorsement deals, world-wide recognition, the luxury life, and the praise of everyone around us. We have to think that Jesus’ disciples, along with the Greeks who came seeking an audience, were thinking of glory in those terms, glory that would capitalize on Jesus’ power and popularity and transform it into a revolt against the stifling Jewish leadership and the oppressing Roman power. It was certainly the case that the people who gathered around Jesus were interested in his having that kind of glory because, of course, they wanted a share in it. There is something alluring and intoxicating about being associated with someone else’s glory, even if you can’t have it for your own. We wish to see Jesus. Is the Jesus we wish to see someone who is going to carry us along on his coattails and usher us into an easy, cushy, glorious life? Perhaps.

What Jesus says and does next doesn’t seem to have much of glory in it. He talks about a grain of wheat falling into the ground and dying. He talks about hating your life. A bit later on, he washes the filthy feet of his disciples and then declares that is what his disciples should do for others because that is what he does for them. This is not glory, not on the world’s terms, at least. We wish to see and know Jesus. But Jesus is the one who, like the grain of wheat, goes into the ground and dies. That is not the kind of thing that anyone was expecting Jesus to say, much less do himself. Jesus is the one who will “hate” his life in this world, which is not about hating in the sense that you and I think of, but hating in the sense that he knows there is something more important in this life than life itself and he is fully prepared actually to give up this life for what is more important. That also was not what anyone was expecting. We wish to see and know Jesus. The disciples saw and knew more than anyone else, and yet they were shocked and confused when, during supper on the evening before Passover, Jesus washed their feet. Such a thing was always done only by servants or by the lowest person on the rung of the social ladder. Never would a master wash the feet of a disciple. Jesus knew their confusion, and he also knew that later on, after his death and resurrection, all the talk of seeds dying, and hating your life, and now this graphic demonstration of menial service, would make sense.

But how do you make sense of what Jesus did? How do you look at this man whom everyone agreed was filled with so much wisdom, so much power, so much charisma, so much strength, and then conclude that he should refuse to defend himself and allow himself to be executed like a criminal? One logical conclusion about Jesus is simply that he was a well-meaning but misguided fellow who got in way over his head. Had he stayed dead in the grave that would perhaps be the only logical conclusion. But there was something else going on. John gives us the clue to that as he sets up the story of the washing of the disciples’ feet. John says that Jesus, “having loved his own who were in the world, …loved them to the end.” If you add love into the equation then we can see a whole different angle when we look at Jesus. Jesus deeply loved the disciples, and indeed, Jesus loved the whole world. Love will go into the ground and die. Love will give up its life. Love will serve.

And there is another clue. John also says that Jesus knew who loved him. “And during supper, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself.” The world is filled with people, religious and otherwise, who think that God loves them and therefore the world should bow down to them. But Jesus takes the knowledge that he is in a special relationship with God and instead of using that relationship for his own advantage he uses it for the advantage of others. In Jesus’ day there were plenty of gods around that most folks worshiped and feared, gods who demanded allegiance, gods who played around with the emotions and lives of human beings, gods who would not think of doing anything loving or kind or remotely self-giving for their subjects. Jesus loved others and therefore gave himself up for them because he knew he was loved by God, that he had a special place and a special role because he was God.

Do you wish to see and know Jesus? He is the one who is being glorified in a most inglorious way: suffering, serving, and dying. He is the one who is not like the other gods, who knows he is loved by God, who knows he is God, but instead of using that most privileged position instead loves everyone else. Do you wish to see and know Jesus? He is the one who declared to his disciples that indeed, no matter how unorthodox his actions were, he was indeed the Lord and Teacher, the Master. And as the Leader, anyone who followed him would need to learn to become like him. “For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” Do you wish to see and know Jesus? The way we truly see and know him is to do as he does.

There’s the rub, isn’t it? We cannot escape it, though, if we look and see and know Jesus honestly, clearly, as he is revealed to us in scripture. To truly see and know Jesus we must look at him through the eyes of our own service, our own loving, our own giving up of our lives for the sake of others. To truly see and know Jesus we must make him the Lord and Master of our lives, which means that we follow him into his kind of life. “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” Here’s the question that confronts us when we want to see and know Jesus. The question is how are we serving and loving and giving ourselves up for others? How are we putting other people’s needs, interests, and good before our own? In our families, in our work, in our friendships, in our lives as citizens of a free nation, how are we “washing the feet” of others?

Those may seem like questions that we would rather not answer. But there’s one final aspect of this business of seeing Jesus that we need to understand before we close the book and go looking for someone else to look at! When he started talking with the Greeks, Jesus said that those who love their life will indeed lose it, and those who “hate” their life, who subordinate themselves to something greater, will find eternal life. He also said that those who enter with him into a life of service as they serve him will find that God will not treat them like servants, but will instead honor them. And think of this. God loved Jesus and God was Jesus. Jesus loved his disciples. And because of that love, Jesus taught his disciples—as he teaches us—that the true joy and happiness of this life is to be found as we use these lives we’ve been given for the sake of others.

There is a famous pathway in a famous city that is called the Via Dolorosa. It is, according to tradition, the path Jesus followed through Jerusalem as he dragged his cross to the hill upon which he was crucified. Via Dolorosa means, literally, the Way of Grief or the Way of Suffering. And clearly, Jesus suffered and God was grieved. As we approach Easter we get there through this way of suffering and grief. That is the way Jesus got there. But I would propose to you that the Via Dolorosa is only one side of the story. There is another way, another path that parallels and then surpasses the Dolorosa path. It is the Joy way. If indeed we find honor from God and eternal life through our service, even our suffering, then the pathway of following Jesus is ultimately not about sorrow but about joy. When we look at Jesus, really look, hard and long, with clarity and honesty, we see both things. We cannot escape the life of service to which he calls us. And we cannot forget the life of joy that is our reward. We can “see” him only as we serve, but when we do, we know the joy of being with him forever.

Amen.