So, what is glory really all about?
Back in dark ages, I did a ten year tour of duty of universities east of the Mississippi. I say this was the dark ages because it was before you could register for classes online. It was before there even was an online. This was the era of computer punch cards that represented a slot in a class, and standing in long lines trying to get one of those cards.
So, it was at Purdue (where I went to study Business and Marketing) that I found myself declaring myself a Philosophy major because it was raining cats and dogs and the Philosophy department had the shortest line.
By doing this, I could sign up for a bunch of intro philosophy classes and then wait a week and probably get into the classes I actually wanted during the drop/add period.
But I found out that I actually liked some of these classes, so while I was able to switch over to the econ and marketing and accounting that I needed, I kept a few of the philosophy classes.
Now I never really had the kind of brain that could think up the stuff that these guys were saying, but I loved reading how they said it. It was crazy and twisted, especially the more modern guys. They would use words I thought I knew, but in ways that made no sense.
So, that's how I found one of my favorite incomprehensible philosophers – Soren Kierkegaard. I'm still not sure what he said, but he could say it in such a way that made you say, “OK. That makes sense. No, wait. What????” And here is one of my favorite quotes of his:
“The self is a relation that relates itself to itself or is the relation’s relating itself to itself in the relation; the self is not the relation but is the relation’s relating itself to itself.”
WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?????
And this is exactly how I feel whenever Jesus goes on about “glorification.” It sounds like a familiar word. It sounds like something I should know. I mean, I don't stop and say, “Glorification? Wha?????”
I just move on, glossing over it, hoping I don't have to preach on it. But when the alternative to the Gospel lesson is a reading from Acts about a flying carpet filled with snakes and birds, well, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.”
This is not the first time that the author of John has put these kinds of words into Jesus' mouth. And each time, they seem to ramble on, making sense...then making no sense...leaving us with the feeling that if only we were just a little smarter, maybe we could get it.
But it's hard to get. And I sometimes wonder if it's the language or the concept. I mean, when we step back, it looks as if Jesus is trying to describe the relationship between himself and God. Then he turns around and tries to describe the role between God and us, then throw in the relationship between us and Jesus.
This is hard enough on a good day. But throw in the fact that the “Son of Man” seems to talk about these relationships at all the wrong times. Jesus talks about being glorified as he's talking about his crucifixion.
Jesus talks about the Son of Man being glorified as he's being scorned.
Jesus talks about the Son of Man being glorified right when Judas is about to betray him.
And like with Kierkegaard, I sit and think, “What does all this mean?”
I think I've mentioned this story before.
Years ago, in the late nineties, I was running a nonprofit in Chattanooga. There was a fundraiser for another nonprofit at the Theatre Centre in town, so I went like you do when you need to see and be seen. I ran into a friend of mine that I'd known since high school.
I hadn't seen him in years, and he was looking kind of rough. But we all change, I supposed, so didn't think much of it. Well, as the party went on, we were both standing at the buffet table, and he popped a shrimp in his mouth. And he began to choke.
Well, not really choke. I mean he could breathe. What had happened apparently was that a piece of shell had gotten stuck in his esophagus and wouldn't go up and wouldn't go down. He got more and more uncomfortable and soon began to panic and that made his esphpagus all tense and only made him panic more.
Well, since he could breathe and talk he refused to call an ambulance, so I loaded him in my car and drove him the few blocks to the emergency room.
I was the only person with him, so when he was called back I went back, too.
The medical team made him take off his shirt. And that's when I saw the scars from the lesions all over his torso from when he had full-blown AIDS. Then they made him remove his dentures, and that's when I realized that the HIV had destroyed his immune system to the point that his teeth had rotted out of his head. I had never known any of this before, and I know I was staring at him.
And there he sat, on this cold metal table, in these harsh lights, with tubes and wires taped all over him. Looking ashamed. Looking so amazingly, shockingly alone.
And he finally looked up at me, tears brimming in his eyes, and said, “Well, now you see me in all my glory.”
Now you see me in all my glory.
This is what John is getting at. Hidden in all that theological stuff about “I am he as you are he and He is me” is this:
When you see a person coming into a food pantry for the first time, embarrassed, eyes brimming in tears, so very vulnerable, now you see Jesus in all his glory.
When you see a legal migrant mother and her daughter wrapped up in themselves with the fear that public servants they should be able to trust are out there trying to snatch them up – not because of their status, but because of their color – now you see Jesus in all his glory.
When you see a homeless woman, sitting by her grocery cart, muttering to herself, maybe remembering a time when she was a little girl and had so much ahead of her, now you see Jesus in all his glory.
All over the world, when you see innocent human beings streaming along the roads, trying to escape, trying to find a place to be safe, trying to find a way to live the way God intended, and being turned away because those in power can't see past their utility and recognize their humanity, now you see Jesus in all his glory.
Glory isn't riches and power and fame. It's not grift and corruption and gilded offices and furniture. It's not surrounding yourself with armored guards and reveling in causing pain to the weak and fear to those who believe or look differently. Glory isn't that at all. Don't let them convince you otherwise.
God's glory is found in vulnerability and tears and need. . . and compassion and empathy and love. This is glory. This is glory. Because this is what a glorious God chose when he defined his relationship with us.
Not through fancy planes or palaces or military parades. Not through raw, bullying power wielded out of some sadistic pleasure from causing others pain. But through the tender cries of an innocent baby that grew up to painful cries on a government's cross. That is our God. That is our glorious God.
A God who chose to know us fully, to be with us fully, to suffer with us fully, and to love us fully. A God who doesn't walk with us only when we are being good, but who stays by us when we struggle.
A God who shares our hopes and desires and comforts our sadnesses and pains. A God who understands just how miraculous it is when some of us simply wake up to face another day.
A God who speaks through the mouth of a lonely, embarrassed man, covered in lesions, sitting on a gurney, ashamed and exposed, whispering, “Now you see me in all my glory.”
And that's what glory is all about.
[In a moment we are going to baptize three new Christians, three beautiful children, with the whole world ahead of them. Please, all of you, please pray that when they – and children like them – replace us...
...pray that they will be able to see the glory of Christ in ways that we so often actively refuse to see.]
Amen.