There was a time I was not a Christian. Quite a long time, actually. My early years were in the church, but then my spiritual education and life got a little loose after that. I was always a seeker of God and I looked in all sorts of places, discovering the wisdom of the Buddhist and Hindu traditions along with smatterings of indigenous spirituality, Gnosticism, Unitarians, Science of Mind folks, new age teachers, and also Christian churches of all kinds. I don’t know what label I would have claimed for myself back in the day. I don’t remember, really, but I was likely in the “spiritual but not religious” camp. I was all over the place spiritually speaking and I liked it that way.

I don’t regret my vagabond days. I was very engaged and curious. I was always reading, journaling, meditating, taking classes, and joining up with different communities to see what they were up to. I would ponder God and talk about God. What I did way less of was actual praying or being a part of a stable spiritual community with deep roots and wisdom. I was a total vagabond, which was a fruitful path for me, I think. It just ultimately became not what I needed. So, eventually I decided to go back to the Lutheran church of my childhood and just be there, at least for a good long while. I was tired of all my primarily intellectual wanderings I think because it was all so intellectual, so cerebral, and what I needed was a place of rest and healing. And that’s what I found.

After going to church for a few months, I noticed something very different was happening in me in response to church than my usual ways. I noticed that I was changing and in ways that felt good, stable, and slow that I did not feel responsible for. God was just changing me in ways that I needed.

There were days I’d take communion with tears streaming down my face for no discernable reason. I often didn’t really get the readings. I was lost most of the time in the Old Testament readings. The psalms I noticed had a lot of hating on enemies, which was weird. And the sermons were sometimes amazing, sometimes incoherent, but either way I’d forget them pretty quickly.

I was not in command of Christian theology, so whatever was happening to me wasn’t a cerebral thing that I felt in command of. No. The Holy Spirit was doing her thing in my heart and my life. I didn’t even know what I believed. It all felt rather strange and even a bit embarrassing at times. But not so embarrassing that I didn’t keep showing up for church, because it became like water for me and I kept going back.

So, when I read about these disciples in the John text, I can’t help but think of my story. Like me, they have their own spiritual journey going on. They are already seekers and are engaged with God. They have already given their life in following John the Baptist. However, John the Baptist keeps testifying that this Jesus guy is the real guy. This is the one to follow, John tells them. But they don’t know that for themselves yet. So, they lurk and watch. After Jesus asks them the question, “What are you looking for?,” they don’t answer right away. Before bearing their souls to this stranger, they want to learn a bit more about him. They don’t seem too sure, but Jesus invites them to come and see.

Come and see for yourself. Come and experience what this thing is all about.

I think that’s what I was doing when I went back to the plain old Lutheran church. I knew I needed something different than what my path had delivered up to that point, so I just decided to show up, sit in the back, and see what the deal was. And here I am, still showing up to see what the deal is, because what happened when I started showing up at church again is that the intractable, stuckness of my being began to be healed, not by me, but by God.

What I found was I didn’t have to believe anything in particular. I didn’t have to show documentation of my baptism. I didn’t need to sign a faith document, pledging allegiance to any particular dogma. Also, what I found was that God began healing me first, because that’s what God does.

I got to come and see, check out the whole church thing, see what the deal was, and be changed for the better through no real action of my own. And how wonderful a thing it was for me to realize that life is not all up to us humans and that God is always there with love, hope, wisdom, guidance, and ultimately the gift of faith. We get to come and see without anything else to give or bring to the table.

One of my professors at Luther Seminary talked about how wonderfully pragmatic Buddhism is, because it’s a philosophy that folks can quickly put into direct practice and see if it works. And unsurprisingly, it does. Mindfulness and commitment to non-attachment to specific outcomes will always reduce our suffering. You can just try it and see what happens. And typically with even modest practice, life does get better. 

This same professor, with great enthusiasm, told us the same is true of Christianity. We Western folks tend to make our cognitive understanding of everything so important. And Christians have tended to make our belief very central to the identity of Christianity. However, that doesn’t leave a lot of room for just showing up, seeing what the deal is, and wondering whether or not Christian practice does indeed make our lives better.

For example, some of us may think that baptism isn’t really valid until we make a decision for Christ or that we can’t really take communion without knowing what we’re doing and why. But thankfully, Jesus is more generous than that. He’s totally fine telling these disciples to just come and see what they think. Come and see what they experience, what they notice, and how they feel. Also notice, Jesus doesn’t interview them for their worthiness. He invites them to come and see for themselves what he’s about and whether they want to indeed follow him.

God was apparently totally fine with me showing up to church after my years of spiritual wilderness. I imagine him telling me, “Just come and see what you think, even if it’s all a little strange.” And my life began to change, I began to heal and grow without it all being due to my effort or understanding.

Now, I’m preaching to you all as if you’re not already Christians and you’re not already showing up regularly. You’ve mostly have already come and seen what this Jesus thing is all about. But there is a way that our conversion to trusting God is a lifelong journey. There are pockets in all our hearts, minds, and bodies that do not yet trust God. There are parts of us that cannot imagine security or belonging with our hustle or control over everything. We all carry at least some fear or shame or regret that we somehow believe is beyond the grace and power of God.

So, perhaps Jesus’ message to us today, to each one of us individually and us collectively is to, “Come and see.” Come and see how that self-doubt is actually an illusion in the face of God’s love and forgiveness. Come and see how your fear for our country is already held in God’s hands. Come and see how hard relationships or diagnoses or traumas or fears of unworthiness are already being attended to by God in ways that are bubbling up into reality.

We can come and see that it’s not all up to us, that God’s Spirit is in action and is flowing in and around and through us now.

The journey of conversion and trust in God is a lifelong journey for all of us. For all the ways you may feel stuck, afraid, or alone, come again to Jesus bringing with you all the wounded parts of yourself in tow in order to see what our good Lord can do for the sake of love and new life for us all.  

AMEN