Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent – March 23, 2010
John 8:21 – 30
Once more Jesus said to them, "I am going away, and you will look for me, and you will die in your sin. Where I go, you cannot come."
This made the Jews ask, "Will he kill himself? Is that why he says, 'Where I go, you cannot come'?"
But he continued, "You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am he, you will indeed die in your sins."
"Who are you?" they asked.
"Just what I have been telling you from the beginning," Jesus replied. "I have much to say in judgment of you. But he who sent me is trustworthy, and what I have heard from him I tell the world."
They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. So Jesus said, "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him." Even as he spoke, many put their faith in him.
Jesus says to those pressing him, “You are of this world; I am not of this world.”
The tone may sound harsh, especially given the context of the passage; however, I assert that he implies no condemnation to being “of this world.” We are each “of this world.” Our humanity plants us in “this world.”
Being “of this world” simply means that we are shaped by the structures of the “world,” that the society in which we live exerts tremendous influence on us, that our culture provides us a framework with which we do life. In a sense, you might think of this framework as a lens through which we see the world and life.
Those of the first century had a world-structure in which they lived, just as those of us who live today have a framework or paradigm with which we live. We are each “of this world.”
How could we not be “of this world?” We are born to women and men who are “of this world,” raised in families that are “of this world,” and guided through childhood by persons who are “of this world.”
It is not wrong or bad to be “of this world.” It is, however, quite dangerous to be “of this world” and to not recognize that we are “of this world.”
In fact, it can be the particular stumbling block of good, religious persons to be “of this world” while thinking they are “not of this world.” For this reason, spiritual growth necessarily entails an awakening, an enlightenment, or an illumination, so that we are able to see with honesty the structures and frameworks that shape our lives.
The danger we tempt is in thinking we are free of the world’s structures or paradigms when actually they are so deeply rooted in us that we can no longer recognize them. The spiritual life, then, invites us to notice our own inscape (inner landscape) and to take the difficult inward look at our makeup.
Jesus could say that he was “not of this world” not merely because he was God or because he was the Messiah – frankly, those seem to be flippant and quite trivial answers to why Jesus was “not of this world” – but because the paradigms, structures, and frameworks out of which he lived came from God, not from the world.
While we don’t know much about his childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, I assume that he had issues related to life-structures and frameworks in his early years. He was born a human to humans, in a real world, in real time. Somehow, though, in his relationship with the Father, he divested himself of the world’s structures and adopted the paradigm and world-view of God. He was “of this world” but “not of this world.”
This, too, is our spiritual journey. We are “of this world,” but we are invited to take up a new paradigm – the Gospel language for this new paradigm is “the kingdom of God” – that is shaped more by God than it is by the world. This is our life-task, our life-mission. As we live more and more into this life-mission, “not of this world,” our lives are transformed. And in a larger way, our world is transformed.
Once more Jesus said to them, "I am going away, and you will look for me, and you will die in your sin. Where I go, you cannot come."
This made the Jews ask, "Will he kill himself? Is that why he says, 'Where I go, you cannot come'?"
But he continued, "You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am he, you will indeed die in your sins."
"Who are you?" they asked.
"Just what I have been telling you from the beginning," Jesus replied. "I have much to say in judgment of you. But he who sent me is trustworthy, and what I have heard from him I tell the world."
They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. So Jesus said, "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him." Even as he spoke, many put their faith in him.
Jesus says to those pressing him, “You are of this world; I am not of this world.”
The tone may sound harsh, especially given the context of the passage; however, I assert that he implies no condemnation to being “of this world.” We are each “of this world.” Our humanity plants us in “this world.”
Being “of this world” simply means that we are shaped by the structures of the “world,” that the society in which we live exerts tremendous influence on us, that our culture provides us a framework with which we do life. In a sense, you might think of this framework as a lens through which we see the world and life.
Those of the first century had a world-structure in which they lived, just as those of us who live today have a framework or paradigm with which we live. We are each “of this world.”
How could we not be “of this world?” We are born to women and men who are “of this world,” raised in families that are “of this world,” and guided through childhood by persons who are “of this world.”
It is not wrong or bad to be “of this world.” It is, however, quite dangerous to be “of this world” and to not recognize that we are “of this world.”
In fact, it can be the particular stumbling block of good, religious persons to be “of this world” while thinking they are “not of this world.” For this reason, spiritual growth necessarily entails an awakening, an enlightenment, or an illumination, so that we are able to see with honesty the structures and frameworks that shape our lives.
The danger we tempt is in thinking we are free of the world’s structures or paradigms when actually they are so deeply rooted in us that we can no longer recognize them. The spiritual life, then, invites us to notice our own inscape (inner landscape) and to take the difficult inward look at our makeup.
Jesus could say that he was “not of this world” not merely because he was God or because he was the Messiah – frankly, those seem to be flippant and quite trivial answers to why Jesus was “not of this world” – but because the paradigms, structures, and frameworks out of which he lived came from God, not from the world.
While we don’t know much about his childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, I assume that he had issues related to life-structures and frameworks in his early years. He was born a human to humans, in a real world, in real time. Somehow, though, in his relationship with the Father, he divested himself of the world’s structures and adopted the paradigm and world-view of God. He was “of this world” but “not of this world.”
This, too, is our spiritual journey. We are “of this world,” but we are invited to take up a new paradigm – the Gospel language for this new paradigm is “the kingdom of God” – that is shaped more by God than it is by the world. This is our life-task, our life-mission. As we live more and more into this life-mission, “not of this world,” our lives are transformed. And in a larger way, our world is transformed.
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