Whom Do You Seek?

John 1:35-39; John 18:1-11; John 20:11-18

There are three times in the Gospel of John when Jesus asks someone who they are looking for—here with would-be disciples; once with those coming to arrest him; and finally with Mary Magdalene in the garden on Easter morning. 

Obviously, then, this question must be pretty central to the practice of faith. It is a question we need to ask as we make our way to Jesus. Who are we seeking? Who do we think we’ll find? 

Before we begin to answer, though, we need to stop and remind ourselves who is asking the question—it is Jesus himself. That completely changes how we should consider answering the question. It frames the question in the same light as when Jesus asked the disciples whom the crowds said he was—Jesus wants to know on whose terms we are defining him as we claim to seek him.

We humans live a great deal by supposition and presupposition. In sum, we tend to act and live by what we think we know rather than what is actually before us.

For example, we see a group of bikers in full leathers, scraggly beards, and covered in tattoos outside our favorite Peet’s coffee shop. A good many of us will assume they are up to no good whatsoever, steer well clear, and assume we are safer getting away. Then, later, the barista lets us know that it is a regular group that meets for coffee, Bible study, and prayer. 

Whoops.

Now, there is safety wired into our brains to make such assumptions—better safe than sorry if you want to survive—but there is also danger in allowing that impulse to be a prime determination for our action. The consequences are major. We will judge someone unfairly. We will prejudicially dismiss someone. We will miss the child of God before us. 

Note what happens in the first encounter with the two disciples of the Baptist. 

John the Baptist tells them this man along the way is the Lamb of God—the savior. With such an introduction, the two scamper off to meet Jesus, a man who could well be the promised Messiah, the one who would finally restore the fortunes of the people of God. 

As they draw near, Jesus asks his question—Who are you looking for? 

Here is the moment—on whose terms do they come? Will they be open to Jesus as he is? Or have they already assumed they know who he is?

If it is the latter, they could well wind up disappointed. Jesus may well ignore, dismiss, or innocently fail to meet their expectations. Then what?

If they are open, they remain open to the full possibility embodied in Jesus. Jesus can freely be who he actually is. Moreover, they are now open to the possibility that he will transcend and transform all of their expectations, becoming more than they ever imagined, perhaps even God with us, Immanuel.

So which way do they go?

They ask a question of their own that reveals everything—Where are you staying? This odd non sequitur actually is perfect—they abandon all presumption and assumption. We will meet you where you are, as you are, and for what you are.

And they become apostles of the Most High God.

Not bad.

Now contrast that experience with what happened on Maundy Thursday. A mob confronts Jesus to arrest him. Jesus asked the same question and the mob declares they are looking for Jesus, but their response is terror. They assume they know everything, even as they know nothing. Confronted with Jesus the Christ, he terrifies them. All because they could not let go of their assumptions. All because they could not let Jesus be Jesus. Instead, all they saw was a man who refused to be confined by their definitions. They can’t handle the truth. It overwhelms them. They plunge ahead with their plan to be rid of Jesus.

They are lost.

That’s terrible.

Now end with Mary. It is three days since Jesus was murdered. He is dead. His tomb, though, is apparently desecrated. She is shattered. She is lost in grief. It blinds her. Jesus meets her. Again, he asks his question—Who are you looking for? But unlike the mob blinded by hate; she is blinded by love. She has lost one she treasured. She confesses all. Her love shines forth. Jesus simply calls her name, Mary. What happens next is a wondrous miracle of grace. Love meets love. Love cures blindness. All it takes is a simple name. I know you; you know me; look and see. Let love open us to one another.

She is found.

And that is gospel—good news of great joy for all people.

So, whom do we seek?

Do we seek a Savior we have already confined within our definition of what a savior is supposed to be? Have we already limited Jesus’ power by naming whom he is to speak with, whom he is to love, and how he is supposed to meet our thinking?

Or do we seek a Savior who is God with us? A savior who is beyond any and all human definitions? A savior more wondrous than anyone we can imagine? A savior who can meet us with amazing grace that can save even wretches like ourselves?

All is in how we answer.