Freeing Jesus: Asking “Who are You?”
A Sermon Based on Diana Butler Bass’ book Freeing Jesus
Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. ~Acts 9:1–19a, NRSV
About 20 years ago, everyone started talking about the “nones,” people who were leaving the faith in which they grew up and choosing to identify as “spiritual but not religious.” Now the popular terms are “deconstructing” and “exvangelical.” There are books and podcasts, essays and hashtags, and social media posts galore about deconstructing faith and the growing group of former evangelicals, now exiles, who call themselves “exvangelical.”
Of course, this is happening. As society, in general, becomes more open concerning sexuality, gender, and gender identity and confronts structural racism, many churches are doubling down on things like the submission of women, conversion therapy, and protesting critical race theory. As we desperately try to get the pandemic under control, we’re working against the impact of churches dismissing science and discouraging people from getting vaccinated. Earlier this year, we witnessed the role that Christian nationalism played in the insurrection at the US Capitol. In addition to social issues and current events, there’s also a generation of adults trying to overcome the damaging effects of having grown up in Christian purity culture.
It makes sense that many people would need to parse out what they grew up believing in church, what Christianity looks like in our culture, and what they actually believe and want to be part of. The thing is, though, those are important questions to ask, period, no matter what’s happening in pop culture Christianity. Deconstructing may seem new, but it’s not. It just has a new name.
Back in the 70s, James Fowler developed his theory about the stages of faith development. According to him, there are six stages of faith, and most American Protestants never grow beyond levels 2 or 3. Moving to level 4, according to Fowler, requires a crisis of faith that enables a person to begin to take personal responsibility for their faith instead of simply accepting what they’ve been taught. You see, a person has to experience different beliefs or traditions colliding in order ever to ask, “What is it I believe and why?” Deconstructing can be scary because people sometimes walk away from their faith altogether (remember the “nones”), but the process is also necessary to become spiritually mature.
In her latest book Freeing Jesus, author and friend of CBC, Diana Butler Bass, notes that many people fleeing the Church aren’t necessarily leaving the teachings and the ways of Jesus. Instead, one of the reasons people are going is because so many churches have twisted and obscured who Jesus is. Throughout the book, Butler Bass explores who Jesus has been to her during different periods of her life.
Another best-selling book right now is Jesus and John Wayne. In it, Kristen Kobes du Mez brilliantly lays out how, over the last 50 years, white American evangelicalism has created a hyper-masculine, gun-slinging Jesus who drapes himself in an American flag. In many contexts, Jesus now more resembles John Wayne or the film Braveheart’s portrayal of William Wallace than he does a suffering servant who lifted up the rejected and died to bring healing and wholeness to the world. Instead, we’ve reduced the incarnation of God to a cowboy who defends “defenseless” women, “traditional” American values, and hyper-individualism.
If you find yourself embarrassed to say you’re a Christian because pop culture Christianity is pretty embarrassing or if you’re in the process of deconstructing, we hope that this sermon series will be freeing for you.
Before Saul, who we know as the Apostle Paul, encounters Jesus on the Damascus Road, his mission is to exterminate those heretics who believe that Jesus was the long-awaited messiah. Remember, Saul looked on as Stephen was stoned. He got government permission to barge into the homes of Jesus’ followers and hauled them off to prison. He was on a crusade to kill Christians.
In fact, Saul is on this way to Damascus to continue his mission there when he’s suddenly stopped in his tracks by a blinding light from the sky. Saul falls to the ground as he hears a voice from heaven boom, “Saul, Saul, why are you attacking me?”
I’m intrigued by Saul’s response to the thundering voice. You see, if I put myself in Saul’s sandals, I imagine that I would lie through my teeth. I’d be like those videos we see on the internet of children who’ve just gotten caught doing something they shouldn’t. You know, the cute videos of toddlers with chocolate chips and cookie crumbs smeared across their faces or holding a Sharpie the same color as what’s been scribbled across the wall behind them. Even though these little kids are covered in incriminating evidence, they try their darnedest to proclaim their innocence.
Saul doesn’t pretend he’s innocent, though. He doesn’t defend his actions, nor does he try to slink away and hide behind an olive tree, which is something else I may be tempted to do if it were me. Instead, Saul asks a question: “Who are you, Lord?” He calls the voice, “lord” signifying that he knows its bearer deserves respect, perhaps because the voice’s power has knocked him to the ground. And he asks, “Who are you?” This question isn’t a defensiveness reaction. Instead, it’s an invitation for the mysterious voice to identify itself.
Diana Butler Bass writes, “‘Who’ is a relational question, a question that opens us toward companionship, friendship, and perhaps even love. It is the question we try to answer whenever we meet someone new; if we find out ‘who’ is sitting across from us, we might know how to proceed with whatever comes next. To know ‘who’ is an invitation into a relationship that can-if we let it-change us, often sending our lives onto a completely unexpected path.”
When Saul asks his question, the voice replies, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.”
Jesus names what Saul is doing, but he doesn’t proceed to scold or lecture him about it. The voice also doesn’t lay out a catechism or creed defining who Jesus is or what Saul should believe about him. Instead, Jesus gives Saul some instructions. “Go here and wait. In time, you’ll know what to do.”
And that’s what happens. Now blinded by the light, Saul’s companions lead him to Damascus. For three days, he can’t see and is unable to eat or drink. During this time, Jesus prepares a disciple named Ananias to visit Saul, lay hands on him, and accept Saul as a brother. This is hard for Ananias because he’s made assumptions about who Saul is (Saul is somewhat notorious to the followers of Jesus since he’s been on a crusade to kill them and all.) So Jesus has to convince Ananias that Saul is changed. In a way, Ananias, too, is asking the question, “Who are you” but he’s asking it of Saul, a person God wants him to trust.
“Who are you? Tell me more. I want to know you and understand what you are about.” We’d all probably would be better off if we approached others, not just mysterious voices from heaven, this way, wouldn’t we?
When I began deconstructing my faith, I repeated a phrase, though more cynical than the question “Who are you” akin to it. As many of you know, I experienced a crisis of faith in college after taking care of a dear friend as she experienced what I only know to call “a breakdown.” My friend stayed with me until her parents could safely get her back home to Japan. Several months later, when my friend took her own life, I found myself ready to walk away from my faith and the God who seemed to have walked away from one of the kindest people I had ever known when she most needed loving presence and hope- the good things I had been told God is.
During that time, the phrase “If you’re any of the good that I’ve been told that you are, show me.” became a mantra to me. In a way, that challenge was still an invitation like the question, “Who are you?” A friend from my high school youth group who didn’t know what had happened mailed me a Bible verse bookmark of Matthew 7:7, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” I rolled my eyes. But I also taped the bookmark to my desk so where I would see it every day.
As I challenged God to “show me” and contemplated walking away from my faith, Jesus quietly pulled me toward a new one. The Spirit walked me through a process of interrogating just about everything I had been told to believe. God helped me build a different faith, one with room for gray and mystery, one in which God is present in despair but not an escape from it, one that questions Scripture that doesn’t seem in line with my understanding of the nature of God instead of taking it at face value.
“Who are you” transformed Saul from persecutor of Jesus to zealous missionary for Jesus. “If you’re worth my time, show me” was my way of asking, seeking, and knocking. Jesus opened the door and invited me to enter a deeper faith.
In Freeing Jesus, Diana Butler Bass points out that Paul’s letters don’t give us one image of Jesus. He described Jesus differently to different communities experiencing unique trials and challenges. Jesus can be different things to us at different times.
Over the next month, we’ll explore several images of Jesus. We’ll have opportunities for you to share who Jesus is and who Jesus has been to you. Hopefully, doing this will free Jesus from the unhealthy images we humans have created and free us to embrace a faith that brings healing and wholeness, faith that invites and welcomes in, faith that surprises and surpasses what we’re capable of envisioning.
Next week, we’ll explore Jesus as a friend. I invite you to spend some time this week reflecting upon that. If you have a story of Jesus being a friend to you (whether that story took place recently or long ago), please let me know. We’d love for one or two of you to share those stories with us next week.
*Freeing Jesus will speak to the heart of anyone who’s deconstructing, wondering if they might be exvangelical, or finds themselves embarrassed to be called “Christian” these days. I’d suggest that you buy the book through a local bookstore. If you don’t have one of those nearby, here’s the amazon link.
