Testify

John 12:12-16; 15:18-27

April 10, 2022 (Palm Sunday) • Mount Pleasant UMC

The crowd is fickle. Any crowd. One day they will love you and the next day, or let’s say five days later, they will despise you, even hate you. I remember how one president took office and something like a month later, his supporters were complaining that he hadn’t changed everything already. I know a pastor who one time had a group that was singing his praises, and a couple of months later they were petitioning the Bishop to have him moved. The crowd is fickle. One day, they celebrate you entering Jerusalem, singing, “Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” (12:13), and a few days later, they clamor for your death. At least that was Jesus’ experience. The clouds are gathering on this final night he spends with his disciples, and he knows all too well that the tide has turned. So he tells his disciples, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first” (15:18). As the night wears on, Jesus’ heart is heavy, but he still has an important message to share with and an important mission to give to his disciples.

All throughout Lent we have been spending time with Jesus, mainly in the Upper Room, on that last night with his disciples. As we begin this Holy Week, we’re going to be walking along the Kidron Valley toward the Garden of Gethsemane. In some ways, the conversation in chapters 15-17 feels a bit disjointed, like it would be if you were walking in the dark along a rocky path with only the light of the almost full moon to guide you. At the end of chapter 14, they’ve left the Upper Room and now they are somewhere along the path at the base of the Temple Mount. As one author points out, “This was not a leisurely stroll. Jesus will double back, repeating words and images he has used throughout his ministry” (Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 167). In the particular passage we read this morning, Jesus is focused on two things, and if I were the sum up his teaching here in a short sentence, it would be this: They’re going to hate you, but tell them about me anyway.

You know, as kids we’re taught that “hate” is a strong and serious thing to say, and of course there is a whole growing cultural thing about how most anything can become “hate speech,” but Jesus doesn’t shy away from using that language here. For a man who taught so much about loving others, even loving your enemies, Jesus recognizes the reality that, in part because of his teaching, the world has come to hate him, to detest him, even to persecute and threaten him and those who follow him. I sort of wonder if the disciples thought Jesus was being just a little paranoid here. I mean, after all, just a few days ago, people had welcomed him to the city with a flurry of palms and singing. Those same people are still in the city; who is this “world” he now claims hates him? Of course, my philosophy professor in seminary once said that just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean people aren’t out to get you (cf. Wright, John for Everyone: Part Two, pg, 76). We know they are out to “get” Jesus and the disciples are about to learn in short order that Jesus isn’t paranoid. He wants them to know that whatever the world does to him, they will also try to do to those who follow him.

Here’s the reality: we are engaged in a struggle. In Ephesians, Paul says, “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the power of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12; cf. Dunnam, With Jesus in the Upper Room, pg. 133). Paul’s reminder is a good one, that the person who opposes us or our message is not really the enemy. There are other forces at play. Still, that one is the one we can see, and Jesus is informing his disciples that opposition is coming from the world. Persecution is on the horizon, and it won’t come from the places you think it will come from. When Jesus is talking about “the world,” he’s not necessarily referring to the pagan world, the Greek and Roman world. They’re not the ones who will condemn him to death; Pontius Pilate will try multiple times to declare Jesus innocent and ultimately wash his hands of the whole affair. No, Jesus’ opposition is coming from the religious world. Biblical scholar N. T. Wright describes it this way: “It was the world of Abraham’s children, people who were studying the law of Moses. It was the world which thought of itself as God’s people. This was the world that looked at Jesus, at what he was doing, that listened to what he was saying, and that said, ‘No, thank you.’ This was the world that saw the blind man healed, and remained blind itself. This was the world that saw Lazarus raised to life, and decided it would be safer to kill him off properly because otherwise people might believe in Jesus” (77-78).

“The world” may be the people you least expect, the ones you think you can most trust, and according to Jesus it’s because you have rejected what they think and believe is important. Jesus says, “You do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you” (15:19). These disciples will soon learn how much the world hates him and them. For the first three hundred years of church history, the church endured on and off life-threatening persecution, usually more on than off (cf. Wright 77). Still today, there are places in the world where having a different faith than the majority can cause you to lose your family, it can land you in jail or worse, and yet in our culture we use the word persecution to describe much softer penalties. We say we are persecuted when we lose a job opportunity or when Christians are shut out of the public square. I don’t know that I could face a believer from China who has spent untold months in prison that I am being persecuted when I lose a place of privilege. As one writer put it, “Sometimes Christians today say they are being persecuted for the sake of God, when in fact they are being rejected merely because they are obnoxious” (Whitacre, John [IVPNTC], pg. 383). In our culture, even with what seems to be rising animosity toward people of any faith, we are still rather comfortable.

Don’t get my wrong: I like comfort. I have a comfortable chair that I retire to in the evenings. From there I can watch TV or reach a stack of books I’m reading. Barney can jump up into my lap and I usually have a glass of iced tea easily within reach. I complain when the power goes out because many of my conveniences aren’t available. As Pastor Craig Groeschel said, “I like comfort, but comfort never made me more like Jesus” (cf. Cordle, A Jesus-Shaped Life, pgs. 109-110). Historically, the church has always grown more and been stronger when we face hard times. I’m not hoping for or praying for true persecution, but I do recognize the reality that those times when the world hates us causes the church to focus on what is really important for the sake of the kingdom. In those times, we tend to think less about our own personal preferences and desires and focus more on what God wants.

Jesus does give these disciples the key to endure and to make it through what is coming, and that is by being surrounded by this one he calls “the Advocate” and “the Spirit of truth” (15:26). Earlier in this conversation, he promised that he would send the Holy Spirit (14:16), and in the next chapter he will tell them that if he doesn’t leave, the Spirit cannot come (16:7). But here, he uses two specific names to describe the Holy Spirit, both of which I believe are helpful for disciples facing tough times, even persecution, because of their faith in Jesus. First, he calls the Spirit “the Advocate.” There are a lot of ways that word is translated: healer (NKJV), comforter (KJV), friend (MSG), counselor (CSB), companion (CEB), but by my informal count, “Advocate" is the most popular. And for good reason. The word Jesus uses to describe the Spirit is paraklete, which literally means “someone who comes alongside.” That’s what an “advocate” does. An advocate is someone who sticks up for you, who stands beside you during difficult times, maybe someone who will protect you when things get hard. An advocate is someone who comes to your defense when you’re accused or someone who provides help when you find yourself without something you need. I’ve heard stories from several people about having to advocate for a loved one who is in the hospital, when it feels like no one is listening. An advocate: someone who comes alongside. And if it’s incredibly valuable to have a person on our side, think how much more valuable it is or can be to have God himself in the person of the Holy Spirit on our side. Jesus says that’s exactly what will happen, what is happening. When the world hates you, the Spirit comes alongside. The Holy Spirit is your Advocate.

So the question is: how does he help? Jesus says, "He will testify about me” (15:26). That brings us to the second name he uses for the Spirit: “the Spirit of Truth.” The Spirit of Truth will testify about Jesus; a bit later, Jesus will tell the disciples the Spirit will “guide [them] into all the truth” and he will “speak only what he hears” (16:13). Here’s how I picture it, what I hear Jesus saying there. When you find yourself in a difficult situation, when you find yourself doubting if this faith is worth it at all, when you question what you stand for, the Spirit will speak into your life. He will whisper to your heart or remind you of a particular Scripture or send someone to speak truth to you. When you need strength, the Spirit will remind you of Jesus; he will testify to the truth.

That’s how some of you have come to know Jesus. You were going through a tough time, or maybe you had given into an addiction of some sort, or you faced a personal disaster, and someone came along, sent by the Holy Spirit, who spoke truth to you. It happens like that nearly every week in our Celebrate Recovery ministry. I constantly hear stories of someone who “just happened” to come to Celebrate and there they found Spirit-filled people who testified to the truth. Or some folks find that the Spirit whispers to them directly—not audibly, but directly to their heart. That was the witness of C. S. Lewis, who spent his early life as an unbeliever, an atheist. Through reading and many conversations with Christian colleagues and friends, Lewis moved inch by inch toward belief. There is a great description of his change during a trip to the zoo (of all places) in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy. He wrote this: “When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did. Yet I had not exactly spent the journey in thought. Nor in great emotion…It was more like when a man, after a long sleep, still lying motionless in bed, becomes aware that he is now awake.” I suppose we will never know, but it’s fascinating to speculate just what the Spirit might have whispered to C. S. Lewis during that trip. The Spirit testifies about Jesus.

So, let’s recap what Jesus has told the disciples so far. The world hates Jesus. And the world will hate Jesus’ followers. When they hate you, the Spirit will stand beside you to help you through. And even though they hate you, tell them about Jesus anyway. That’s the last part of his teaching here in this morning’s passage. Jesus says, “You also must testify, for you have been with me from the beginning” (15:27). Even when they hate you, even when they speak badly about you, even when they persecute you, even when they hurt you, tell them about Jesus anyway. Is it any wonder that the church grows the most in places and times where there is real persecution? It’s because they take this verse seriously.

The disciples knew Jesus best because they had been with him for three years, “from the beginning,” as he says. They had stories to tell, and in the coming years, they shared that story. They told their story. I’ve said it before, that the best testimony you can share is simply the way Jesus has touched and changed your life. Some people are reluctant to talk about Jesus because they feel like they don’t know enough Bible or enough doctrine or enough theology or enough of the Christian faith—or whatever. And all of that stuff is important but we no longer live in an age where that is what people want to hear first. What people want to know most is the difference Jesus has made in your life. You may not be able to explain eschatology or pneumatology or soteriology (or even pronounce those words or know what they mean) but you can tell your story. One of the great theologians of the church, Karl Barth, was once asked how he would sum up his faith. Barth wrote weighty volumes of theology and thought long and deep about what Jesus meant. But when he was asked to boil it all down to the basics, this is what he said: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” People can argue with your theology but they cannot argue with your story, because it’s yours. That’s what the earliest disciples did—they told their story. That’s how we can testify as well. Tell your story. Tell how Jesus set you free, how he made your life better. And, Jesus assures us, the Spirit will help us and give us the words we need to testify (cf. Luke 12:11-12).

I was thinking about that first Palm Sunday, which we heard about and celebrated earlier in our worship this morning. John says there was a “great crowd” present (12:12), but we don’t know exactly how many because apparently there were no Methodists in the crowd counting everyone. Anyway, we’re told a little further down in the passage that the people came because they had heard about Lazarus being raised from the dead. In other words, they came to see this teacher and miracle worker because someone had shared the story of Lazarus. Someone—or several someones—had testified. And as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the donkey, they continued to testify. They sang what they believed; they sang what they were experiencing: “Hosanna!” (That means, “Lord, please save!”) “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the king of Israel!” (12:13). They were singing about what they were experiencing in that very moment; they were testifying.

And then there’s Jesus’ own witness on this day. He rides into Jerusalem on a young donkey (12:14). And while that’s a fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy (9:9, as John tells us), it’s also a witness about the kind of king Jesus intends to be (cf. Dunnam 134). When Roman conquerors rode into a city, they would ride a powerful war horse. Jesus came humbly, quite the contrast to the Roman power and glory, because his kingdom is different. It does not set out to conquer the world through power and might. It infiltrates the world one person at a time, one story at a time, one changed heart at a time. That’s what changes hate to love. And it happens as we testify. Who will you share your story with today, this week, this month? To whom will you testify? Let’s pray.