That’s Jesus. And although we mostly think of him for the days he was a baby and the three years when he was grown up and doing amazing things, it’s important to recall that we don’t worship someone who just WAS. We worship and follow someone who IS. He still IS. Every collect we have says he is alive and reigns with God.
Jesus doesn’t stop at the crucifixion.
Jesus doesn’t stop at the resurrection.
Jesus doesn’t stop at the Ascension.
Jesus keeps on and on.
And the reading from Acts this Sunday morning – a book about everything the friends of Jesus did after Jesus returned to heaven – the reading has Jesus in it, speaking to Saul. Just because he’s gone up into heaven, it doesn’t mean he’s stopped talking to people on earth.
Saul has been a bad man. Saul has imprisoned Christians and had some of them killed. And Saul is on a horse riding to Damascus to get more power to do more arresting and more killing. This is when Jesus decides that he’d quite like Saul working for him instead, and that an end to persecution would be a good thing. So he shines a light in Saul’s eyes and brings him off his horse, crashing down to earth and crashing down to the reality of what he’s been doing.
This'll be the critical moment and the critical question.
And Jesus asks, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”
Let me tell you. If I was on the wrong side of God, the last thing I would want to hear would be Jesus calling my name not once but twice. Saul... Saul…
"Saul, Saul…"
It’s like when your mum uses your Sunday name... or your dad uses your full name including your middle name... you know it’s serious.
Now there are three times in the Bible when Jesus does that, when Jesus uses someone’s name not once but twice... and you can be sure that when he does, the people he’s calling sit up and listen, because whatever Jesus says next must be soooo important.
Three times. See if any spring to mind...
The third is “Saul, Saul...” Saul is someone Jesus loves, despite all the persecution. Saul is someone Jesus has died for, someone Jesus wants not as unrepentant enemy but remarkable friend. And so how do you think Jesus calls his name? Sharply ?[demonstrate] No, that sounds a bit too much like Sybil Fawlty. So how does he call? I suspect tenderly... but a little exasperated... wearily... but lovingly... strongly and clearly, so it can’t be mistaken.
And the question: why are you persecuting me? It’s something Saul needs to look at seriously, to address well, to think on. You listen when Jesus uses your name twice.
The previous time Jesus used a name twice was... Simon Peter. Simon Peter. In Luke 22. Simon Peter had been insisting that he would follow Jesus into the jaws of death, getting carried away with his own bravado. And Jesus saw before him someone who was building himself up for an almighty fall. And he wanted to soften the blow. He wanted Simon Peter to survive the night he would deny Jesus. He wanted Simon Peter not to be crushed. And so Jesus says, “Simon, Simon...” That gets his attention.
"Simon, Simon…"
How does Jesus say it? Tenderly, kindly, carefully, loving this fragile, flawed, flimsy man in front of him. “Simon, Simon,” he says, and he tells Simon the bad news that he will not have the guts to follow Jesus to death. A warning so that when the time comes, it won’t kill Simon Peter of a broken heart. And Jesus goes on, “I have prayed for you that your faith will not fail.” Bad news is followed by such reassurance. This may be the sentence that saves Simon Peter. Judas hanged himself. Simon Peter survived. Maybe this is why. You listen when Jesus uses your name twice.
That’s Saul and Simon Peter. There’s one more. It’s... anyone?... Martha.
Martha. Martha is the sister of Mary. They too are friends of Jesus, and one day Jesus turns up at their house. Do you know the story? Mary sits at the feet of Jesus, drinking in everything he says. Martha disappears into the kitchen, feeling obliged to make dinner. But she resents it. She wants to be with Jesus, hearing those wise words. So she storms around the kitchen, fuming and feeling sorry for herself and more and more furious with Mary for not helping. Jesus can feel the tension, hear the clattering of pans and the way that vegetables are being cut with a lot more vigour than you really need. And finally she storms in and accuses Mary of being slack and lazy. “Don’t you care, Jesus?” she asks through gritted teeth.
Cooking like she means it...
And Jesus says, “Martha, Martha…”
"Martha, Martha…"
He loves her too, but he needs to speak up because Martha has wrapped herself in a martyr’s blanket, wallowing in self-pity and self-righteous, missing all the good stuff because she’s got a right cob on her. Know the feeling? Yeah, me too.
And Jesus punctures her pity party. “Martha, Martha...” So tenderly, maybe with a raised eyebrow. “Mary’s just chosen what’s best,” he says. “And she won’t let feelings of obligation take it away.” He never asked for dinner. He’d be happy with toast. But he can see Martha ruining her day, missing out, and she’s about to ruin some more people’s days. So this time it’s a gentle rebuke – don’t play the martyr, it’s not a good look on you – and also an invitation to laugh at herself and sit down and listen. Jesus steps in to offer her a way back.
So Martha has all the wind taken out of her sails. And so she should. Jesus loves her enough to reset the day. You listen when Jesus uses your name twice.
And he does.
What did we say? Jesus talked to Simon and Martha while he was here in the flesh. But he speaks to Saul from heaven. And Jesus will want to speak to us too.
So imagine Jesus calling your name twice. Joan, Joan... Oliver, Oliver... Henry, Henry... Ian, Ian…
"Ian, Ian…"
Two questions.
One. What does it sound like? What does Jesus saying your name sound like? I’ll tell you one thing. It’s really probably not an accusing tone. Jesus may well correct us, rebuke us, but he doesn’t accuse. He never knocks people down. He builds people up. So even if we need a bit of correcting like Martha... even if we’re getting a bit above ourselves like Simon Peter... even if he’s got the most important question of our life to ask us it’ll be loving and tender. And firm. Jesus brooks no nonsense.
Question two. What has Jesus got to say to you? If Jesus sat you down and looked you in the eye, loving you so so much, what would he say? What’s the thing you most need to stop running around and to listen to?
It may be a word of love, because you’ve been getting a bit threadbare and run ragged, or been giving so much you need to sit down and receive a bit from Jesus. Ian, Ian, don’t forget I love you.
It may be a pointed question, like his question to Saul. God is the master of the pertinent question. What are you doing here? Ian, Ian, why are you up so late?
It may be a gentle invitation to get that cob off of us, that chip off our shoulders, like martyred Martha. Maybe we’ve been letting our hearts grow a bit cold or crusty. Maybe I’ve got a face on me like a... fried egg. Ian, Ian, why so serious?
My face when I've got a cob on
It may be something we’re dodging: a difficult work of the heart, or some Christian thing we know we should do: go to someone, ask someone why they’re hurting us, forgive someone. Ian, Ian, have you forgiven that bully yet?
Could be anything. And either you know what it is already... or you could sit down this afternoon and listen, imagine Jesus sitting opposite you and saying your name (saying it twice!) and then saying the words he most needs you to hear.
Ian, Ian... it’s okay.
Ian, Ian… you're not the barking one in this situation!
Ian, Ian... I know how you feel.
Ian, Ian... take the evening off.
Ian, Ian... you gotta laugh, haven’t you?
Ian, Ian... I told you not to worry. I have it in hand.
Not always serious. Sometimes Jesus needs to raise a smile in me. Make me take stuff less seriously. Remind me of my place in the world. Remind me of my friends.
Enough about me. You now. This amazing Jesus, who always lifts you up, who never knocks you down; this wonderful Jesus, who always rubs it out, who never rubs it in; this beautiful Son of God, who knows you inside out and loves you anyway. What will he say?
Or maybe it’s enough just to hear your name twice from his lips and remember that he knows you.
"Insert your name here, twice please…"
But please. Today. Sit on down and imagine and let Jesus speak. And when he says your name twice, listen.
