Fifth Sunday of Easter Yr C May 15 2022

Fifth Sunday of Easter Yr C May 15 2022

Acts 11:1-18, Revelation 21:1-6, John 13:31-35, Psalm 148

 

“The Spirit stood among the graves and pointed down to one. He advanced toward it trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape. ‘Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,’ said Scrooge, ‘answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that will be, or are they shadows of things that may be only?’ Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. ‘Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,’ said Scrooge. ‘But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me.’ The Spirit was immovable as ever. Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, EBENEZER SCROOGE. ‘Am I that man who lay upon the bed?’ he cried, upon his knees. The finger pointed from the grave to him, and back again. ‘No Spirit! Oh no, no!’ The finger still was there. ‘Spirit!’ he cried, tight clutching at its robe, ‘hear me. I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope?’ For the first time the hand appeared to shake. ‘Good Spirit,’ he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: ‘your nature intercedes for me, and pities. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life.’” As you may have guessed, from the story, A Christmas Carol.

 

Barbara Rossing, author of The Rapture Exposed, describes the book of Revelation by comparing it to A Christmas Carol. She said that the visions in Revelation are like the visions Scrooge has. The ghost of the past, present, and future warn Scrooge that if he doesn’t wake up and change his ways, these visions are the way it will be. The book of Revelation shows us the very same thing. If we don’t wake up and change our ways, if we don’t reconcile our relationships with one another and with this earth, our island home, the consequences will be dire. 

 

And then we come to chapter 21 that we hear today. This chapter is the chapter of hope. In this part of the story we hear Good News, we hear that what could be is that the home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with us as our God and we will be God’s people. God will be with us and will wipe every tear from our eyes, death will be no more, mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away. See, I am making all things new.

 

This is hope. This is where all our visions and dreams come into focus. The whole message of the bible is that God loves the world so much that God comes to earth to dwell with us. That’s exactly what we hear in John’s gospel today. Revelation proclaims this message. God’s home is not somewhere else, but here in our midst, in the flesh right here on earth. This is a message that is not just about the future; it is a message that is operative right here, right now. “See, I am making all things new.” New life is about now; new life is available to each one of us right now. We don’t live our lives for the reward at the end. We live our lives because we have this chance of new life, of a different way of being, right here, right now. NT Wright calls it life before life after death. 

 

And what is this new thing, what is the gift we’ve been given? Why does any of this make any sense at all? It is the gift of God with us, the gift of Jesus Christ who lived this life, just like you and me. Jesus who suffered and cried, Jesus who loved his friends, even Peter who denied him, and Judas who betrayed him, Jesus, who would not give into the cultural pressures of his time. Jesus who was God who is God and who will be God forever, whose work in his life in his suffering in his death and in the resurrection gives us something new, gives us the truth of a transformed life, calls us into a life that is about hope and growth and love and forgiveness, it calls us away from a life of self-centered and self-serving narcissism. Hope is what revelation is about. 

 

When we embark on the journey of transformation, we enter the land of hope. When we enter the land of hope, we are in fact transformed, we are made new, we occupy a new space, we are given the gifts for living this life fully alive, where out of death comes new life, out of sadness comes hew hope, out of crying and pain come new love.

 

The vision of revelation is meant to be God’s vision by which we live our lives right now, as followers of the Lamb in our world. According to Barbara Rossing, “The Lamb is leading us on an exodus out of the heart of empire, out of the heart of addiction to violence, greed, fear, and unjust lifestyle or whatever holds each of us most captive. It is an exodus we can experience each day. Tenderly, gently, the Lamb is guiding us to pastures of life and healing beside God’s river.”

 

The theme of exodus runs through the entire book of revelation, and it is the theme that guides us through our Christian lives. Each of us, and all of us together wander through the wilderness of all that which enslaves us, all that which hurts us and causes us to protect our hurts and fears at all costs. That is what the scary stuff of revelation is. It is the powers that enslave us. The powers of empire that demand worship and adoration at all costs. The powers of possession that cause us to fool ourselves into believing that people and things are ours to possess. The powers of self doubt that fool us into believing that we are not worthy to be loved by God. But it is also the theme of exodus that assures us that God is God and we are God’s people, and we can do nothing to cause God to break that covenant. That is the liberation, that is the freedom.

 

The vision of Revelation also is a vision of God’s dream right here right now, as well as that which is yet to come. We live in the tension of this vision always. You and I have been claimed by God at our baptism. We participate in God’s dream by sharing the love of God in Christ. They truly know we are Christians by our love. This 21st chapter of Revelation has been paired with the gospel of John chapter 13, I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another. By this everyone will know that you have love for one another. We know that according to John, being a follower of Jesus is to love one another. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

You and I participate in God’s dream when we love one another. You and I change one life at a time when we love one another. You and I change people around us when we love one another. You and I can change the world when we love one another, because it is Love that wins. You and I can participate in the new creation described in Revelation when we welcome God in our midst, when we treat each and every person as if that person is created in God’s image, because they are. You and I can be an incarnational community, a community of love, of hope, of resurrection and of transformation right now, we don’t have to wait until some time in the future. 

 

Welcoming God among mortals, expecting Jesus with us, this is our call, this is the Christian life we are to be about. 

 

Thanks be to God, Amen. Alleluia.

Fourth Sunday of Easter Yr C May 8 2022

Fourth Sunday of Easter Yr C May 8 2022

Acts 9:36-43, Revelation 7:9-17, John 10:22-30, Psalm 23

 

"Kathy, John, Mary, Joe, time to come and eat!" My mom would yell out the back door and we would come running from the schoolyard, or the neighbor’s yard, knowing there was a wonderful dinner waiting for us. "Kathleen Ann Monson" was not such a pleasant way to be called, if that was what my mom was yelling I knew I was in trouble. "I Rick, take you Kathy to be my wife" brought tears to my eyes. "Therefore, Father, through Jesus Christ your Son, give your Holy Spirit to Kathleen, fill her with grace and power, and make her a priest in your Church," are the words of ordination. 

 

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," are the words that William Shakespeare put in Juliet's mouth as she tells Romeo that she loves him, regardless of his family. In a little novel called "The Little Prince," knowing one’s name connects or ties one to another, and in a novel by my favorite author Madeleine L'engle, called A Wind in the Door, naming is that which calls a person into existence, unnaming, or xing, allows a person to just vanish, to be annihilated, negated, extinguished, xed. In that story, Meg, the hero, is trying to save the life of her brother, Charles Wallace. Meg meets some very bad characters, called the echthroi, who take life out of the world by unaming them. And anytime we look over or around or through a person, anytime we disregard their name, the word by which they are known, we devalue and dishonor that particular creation of God.

 

"My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish," this story in John tells us. Let that just wash over you. Jesus knows you. Jesus loves you. Jesus knows your name.

 

We step off the path this week. For the weeks since Easter, we have been reading stories about Jesus after the resurrection. Our lectionary returns us today to the time before the events of Holy Week and Passion, to the festival of Dedication. John tells us this detail, because then we will know that there are many people gathered in Jerusalem, many people around who may hear from Jesus. Today we know that festival as Hanukkah.

 

It is winter, Jesus was in the portico of Solomon, and there were many gathered around him, maybe listening to his stories. Though they seem impatient, maybe even bored after being there all winter, they want Jesus to spill the beans to them, they want Jesus to give them the breaking news, they want Jesus to tell them if he is the one they have awaited since time began. Is Jesus the Messiah they have been waiting for? Is Jesus the leader, the one appointed by God, the descendant of David, the one who will free them from the tyranny of empire? 

 

And, the piece of the story we are attending to today is part of a much larger story in which Jesus tells those who are listening that he is the Good Shepherd. They ask him if he’s the Messiah, and Jesus says, "My sheep hear my voice." They weren’t asking Jesus anything about sheepherding. They were asking him about what Jesus would do for them. But Jesus would not be put on the pedestal of power, instead he told them that being a child of God is to hear our name spoken by the God who creates, the God who loves, the God who empowers. 

 

And we recognize Jesus as Jesus calls to us, as Jesus breathes us into being, as Jesus says our name, as Jesus gives us life. In the gospel of John, eternal life has a specific meaning. Being known by God is eternal life. Eternal life is realized in the present, it is that which God gives through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus calls each one of us by name and we are known. In our baptism, we are marked and claimed as God's own. 

 

But the question many continue to ask is the same one those who surrounded Jesus ask. Who are you Jesus, what can you do for us, Jesus? And what we hear is: The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff --- they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of The Lord my whole life long. 

 

So it’s not about what Jesus can do for us, it’s about being in a relationship with Jesus. A relationship in which we are called by name. Why bother in this relationship with Jesus? Why bother with this ancient story? Because it's true. It's not true like 2 plus 2 equals 4 is true, but it's true like caterpillars turn into butterflies, and seeds turn into flowers, and wheat turns into bread. You know it's true because you have walked with your family, friends and neighbors through pain and sickness, and you know that there is new life on that path.

 

You know it's true because you have known loss, after your spouse has died, when you didn't think you could ever live life again someone calls your name and picks you up and takes you out to dinner. You know it's true because you have not felt protected or safe, and someone gave you hope, someone gave you sanctuary. You know it's true because people run toward the gunshots to guard their classmates from the bullets. You know it's true because someone calls your name, tenderly, lovingly, courageously, encouraging you to be fully and completely human, fully and completely loved. You know it's true, because you have that indelible mark on your forehead, and you have been named beloved child.

 

Following Jesus is to listen to the voice of hope, the voice of mercy, the voice of compassion, the voice of healing, the voice that knows who you are. Following Jesus transforms how we occupy our space in this world. You are not alone in this endeavor. You are called and known by the one who knows what joy and pain and suffering feel like. You are connected to the others around you by virtue of your humanity. We really are all in sheepfold together. And when you go missing, when you are lost, when you feel like there is no one anywhere who really knows you, this shepherd, this one who loves you, this one who knows you from all the others, this one who knows your name, comes to find you and carry you back to safety. 

 

Beloved child, I am your shepherd, follow my voice, follow me. To listen to Jesus' voice, to follow Jesus, is to be a disciple. And remember, in the gospel of John, love is the definition of discipleship. Following Jesus is all about loving one another. Following Jesus is about pointing people toward hope. Following Jesus is about being the one who calls another's name, following Jesus is about providing a way out of the lostness -- by providing again or for the first time a chance to be invited into a relationship with God. You are called by name, you are absolutely and abundantly loved. You are perfectly forgiven. You are nourished and fed by the bread and the wine. 

Third Sunday of Easter Yr C May 1 2022

 

Third Sunday of Easter Yr C May 1 2022

Acts 9:1-6, (7-20), Revelation 5:11-14, John 21:1-19, Psalm 30

 

Risen Lord, be known to us in the catching of the fish. Risen Lord, be known to us in the hearing of the Word. Risen Lord, be known to us in the tending of the sheep. Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. 

 

This story is a new discipleship narrative, it’s a new calling story. It references earlier stories that have shown and taught the followers of Jesus what following, or discipleship looks like, but what it looks like to follow Jesus has to be revisited after the resurrection, after the incarnation is finished, and to prepare them and us for the advocate, the comforter, the Spirit.

 

The disciples had been in that room, with the doors closed and locked. It was so hot and stuffy. They were so afraid. And Jesus showed up, right there, in that locked room. They never knew how he had gotten in. But they knew it was him, they knew it because of what he'd said. Peace be with you. The hands, and the feet, the side. They just knew it. But what do they do next? What is there left to do now that Jesus is gone. They might as well go back to fishing. It's really all they knew.

 

Early in the morning, just after daybreak, they were out in the boats. The sun was a beautiful round globe, glowing with morning warmth. Fishing, at least they knew how to do that well. Cast the net, pull in the fish. Although the night had brought nothing in, this morning not so much either. There seemed to be no fish in the sea on this morning. But the new guy said try the right side. Since what they were doing wasn't working, they gave it a try. They threw the nets out on the other side, and it filled so full and so fast they couldn't even pull the net in. And John recognized Jesus first, he said to Peter, It is The Lord. Peter in his exuberance put on his robe and jumped in the water.

 

The fire was set on the beach, Jesus already had some fish roasting, and he invited them to bring their abundant catch and add it to what was already there. They roasted the fish, they were so hungry after a night of fishing, and after weeks of being afraid, not sleeping well, and all the rest. Come and have breakfast, come and eat. They knew it was Jesus in the breaking of the bread. And they knew who they were in the roasting of the fish.

 

We know it is Jesus in the breaking of the bread. The central act of what we do together, is to recognize Jesus in our midst, in the breaking of the bread. We are made into one body in the breaking of the bread. We are made into new creations in the breaking of the bread. We recognize our common humanity in the breaking of the bread. Jesus invites us into being who we are created to be, in the breaking of the bread. God's abundance meets our giftedness in the sharing of the meal.

 

And, we are, just like the disciples that morning on the beach, are invited into a new way of following Jesus. This story not only shows us who we are, it also shows us what it means to be a follower of Jesus, what it means to be a disciple. Discipleship is nourished in the breaking of the bread, discipleship is about the Love that wins. Yes, Lord; you know that I love you. Feed my lambs. Yes, Lord; you know that I love you. Tend my sheep. And the third time, that frustrated Peter so terribly, Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. Feed my sheep. Three times Peter repeats his love, three times for each of the times he denied Jesus by that other fire, just before Jesus was condemned to death.

 

But there it is. There is discipleship. Just like Peter we disciples deny that we know Jesus, and yet Jesus still knows who we are. Just like Peter we disciples deny that we know Jesus, and yet we are forgiven. Just like Peter. That is exactly what it means to follow Jesus. The Love that wins causes us to go and feed and tend. The Love that wins nourishes us so that we may feed and tend. The Love that wins washes over us and we are made into the people God intends for us to be. The conversation between Jesus and Peter centers around the question, "do you love me?" In the gospel of John, love is the definition of discipleship. Following Jesus is all about loving one another.

 

And as Peter shows us, love is an action, not a feeling. What you do matters. As parents or friends, employees or volunteers, citizens or neighbors, you are called to look for opportunities to care for the people and world God loves so much. So discipleship is the activity of love. No more, no less. Sometimes people try to make that so difficult. But it's not, really. And the first activity of love is forgiveness. We are not perfect people, and trying to be keeps us from the love and forgiveness that is available to us. We are not perfect, but we are perfectly loved.

 

This is actually the commissioning story in the gospel of John. In Matthew, the disciples are told to go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. We are commissioned at Baptism to share in the work and ministry of our Lord. And yet, like Peter, we fall short, failing to give witness in word or deed to our faith in the living Lord. And yet Jesus doesn’t just commission and send us, Jesus also forgives us when we fall short. And Jesus doesn’t just forgive us, but calls us to try again. And Jesus doesn’t just call us to try again, Jesus also invites us to share what we have and gives us meaningful work to do. Your work is your discipleship. In your work, your school, your play, Jesus invites you to follow, by loving those you are with.

 

And, part of discipleship, part of following Jesus, is that Jesus, never, ever, gives up on us. Jesus keeps calling, keeps forgiving, keeps loving, so that we may be Jesus' hands and feet in the world, loving others. Following Jesus is never about judging people. Following Jesus is always about being loved and loving others, and being the disciple we are baptized to be. 

 

Abundance and invitation. Here, have all you want, all you need, Jesus says, and give it away. Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. Give Jesus' love away, feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep. Love wins.

Second Sunday of Easter Yr C April 22 2022

Second Sunday of Easter Yr C April 22 2022

Acts 5:27-32, Revelation 1:4-8, John 20:19-31, Psalm 150

 

"It is one of the cosmos' most mysterious unsolved cases: dark matter. It is supposedly what holds the universe together. We can't see it, but scientists are pretty sure it's out there." I read that on the Internet, so it must be true. And I also read or heard, can't remember which, that we know about 3% of all there is to know.

 

We want to know so desperately, don't we? We want certainty, we want proof, we want it all. And yet, in faith as in science, the story we tell really only touches the mystery of the universe every once in a while. Our science and our faith are only as good as the questions we ask. And yet the story we tell, whether it is the story of faith, or the story of science, does a darn good job of pointing us in the right direction, describing the reality in which we live. The story of faith, and the story of science, are not mutually exclusive stories, they are stories that describe different things, and yet, they dance together.

 

Jesus died, didn't he? The incarnation ended on that cross, that we know. And yet Mary, who stood weeping at the tomb, returns to the disciples and says, “I have seen the Lord.” And we claim that God entered time and space and did something absolutely new, something so amazing that all we can do is sing and dance and shout alleluia! All we can do is try to describe it, try to paint pictures and make music; we can't come close to knowing it. And that amazing thing that God continues to do changes us, transforms us, like Jesus, we are made into something completely new and different.

 

The doors of the house where the disciples met in fear were locked, and Jesus came and stood among them. Jesus came and stood among them, but until Jesus said, Peace be with you, they did not even recognize him. Well, would you? He was dead, why on earth would Jesus be standing among them. Remember the women who came running back from the tomb? The disciples didn't believe them, they didn't believe even Jesus himself until Jesus said these familiar words, Peace be with you. Only then did the disciples realize this was Jesus in their midst. My grandson’s favorite question, at 2 ½ years old, is how. I think he has the mind of a scientist. That is the question we ask of this story before us, how could this be? 

 

But we don’t answer that question with science, we answer it with a story. You see, this story about Jesus appearing to the disciples after the crucifixion and resurrection, this story about Jesus coming back to appear to Thomas, who missed it the first time around, serves to try to show us what resurrection looks like. It tries to show us what this amazing thing that God does, looks like.

 

Imagine yourself there. You are in that room, it is hot and smelly and so close, the doors are locked, the windows are barred. You are so frightened, the same authorities who just killed Jesus are after you. You can't eat, you can't sleep, your stomach is in knots. And then, suddenly, without any warning, this man, whom you do not recognize, shows up in the room. How did that happen? There's no way he could have gotten in, you locked those doors yourself. Everyone is shaking in their sandals. And then he speaks. "Peace be with you." His hands and his feet were torn from the nails driven into them; his side was pierced. You knew it was him when he spoke again of peace, and forgiveness, when he breathed on you and you felt his spirit.

 

Thomas wasn't there that day, and just like you, couldn't believe it until he saw it. So a week later, when Thomas was there, Jesus showed up again. The hands, the feet, the side. You knew you had to tell this story; you knew that God had done something so amazing you just had to tell everyone.

 

Here you are, on this day, the Sunday after Easter, your 60th Easter, your 45th Easter, your 20th Easter, your 10th Easter. We gather here, in this place. Our doors are wide open, we hope and pray each time we gather that God will show up, that God will send us people to whom we may introduce God. The reality is that God is here, God is showing up. The question is how do we recognize God? How do we recognize Jesus in our midst? This story we hear today points us to the ways we recognize Jesus in our midst. Peace be with you. Receive the Holy Spirit, forgive the sins of any, blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. This is the way we recognize Jesus; this is the way we serve Jesus, this is the way we follow Jesus. We listen to those around us, we listen to their stories, we listen to who they are, and when we do, Jesus shows up.

 

When people tell the story about Thomas, they tend to end with the admonition to believe without seeing. Somehow, believing without seeing gets equated with certainty and faith. But I think one of the mistakes that is made in Christian talk is that belief and certainty become synonymous, they are conflated. Certainty is never a pre-requisite for belief, and certainty is not a product of belief. There is a place for all our doubt and uncertainty, all our questions. Even Thomas shows us that. Certainty actually is not really very important at all. The reality in which we live, and the place I began all of this today, is that reality in which we see and experience very little of the total that is possible in human experience. We place our faith in the story that is true, not in the certainty of being right. We place our faith in the story of life, joy, pain, suffering, death, and resurrection, and the God who walks with us in the midst of it all. The God who collects all of humanity's pain, fear, and hate, and takes it into Godself through love. That is not about certainty, but it is about love.

 

We practice love and God shows up. That is what this life and this faith is all about. We practice peace and Jesus shows up. That is what serving others is all about. We practice silence and the spirit shows up. That is what prayer is all about. Open the doors, let all who would enter come in. It is Love that wins. Amen.

 

Easter 2022

Easter 2022 John 20:1-18

 

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they had gone in, they did not find the body. The men they saw said to them “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here but has risen.”

 

We have had quite a journey to get to this place, on this night. We followers of Jesus, along with all the characters who populate this amazing story of love, Peter, Mary, Joanna, have accompanied Jesus into Jerusalem with the shouting of Hosannas. We have watched with horror as the events turned violent. We have been implicated in the apathy that allowed Jesus to be condemned and killed. We sat in the silence and waited as we believed with those very first followers, that Jesus, the one who stood for love, the one who healed others, was dead. That was the end. It looked like failure. It looked like the light went out. It looked like evil won. But evil does not have the final word, the Word of God has the final word, Jesus.

 

So let’s take a look at Mary and what she has to say to us and to the world. She comes to the tomb, after watching and witnessing Jesus’ death on the cross, believing this was the end of the run, the end of the story, the end of her life as well as Jesus’. Imagine her there. Mary, the outlier. Mary, scorned by most of Jesus’ friends as well as the culture in which she lived. Mary, who when she was with Jesus, mattered. When she was with Jesus her life held value and meaning. This Mary understood heartbreak. Many of us have watched a loved one die, but none of us have watched a death so violent as this death on the cross. Her sadness and grief were tremendous. We meet her here, at the tomb. She had come early in the morning after what must have been a sleepless night, only to discover that the body, the one she loves, was not there. She ran back to tell the others, they arrived at the tomb and confirmed what she had seen and yet, they returned home.  

 

Mary stood weeping. Mary stood weeping. Three little words, three little words that encapsulate so much of our reality. It could be any one of us, we have wept. We have wept for our loved ones, we have wept because our hearts have been broken as we have been absent, one from another. We have wept in disappointment. We have wept in frustration. We have wept in loneliness. We have wept at the oppression and mistreatment of people of color. We have wept as we have watched the people of Ukraine be violently attacked. We have wept. These are holy tears, and they recall for us Jesus’ tears at the grave of his friend, Lazarus. 

 

Together with Mary we stand in this space that is filled with sadness, and with hope, and joy. Why do you weep? Who are you looking for?

 

Name them, name them as Jesus named Mary. Name those who we love but see no more. Bring joy and love into your heart as you see them, as you remember them, and you learn to fill your broken heart with their memory. Revel in the tears and the heartache.

 

And then, listen. Listen for the one who calls your name. In the darkness of that morning, Mary saw those angels in the tomb, and they wondered with compassion about her tears, she named her grief, they have taken him away, I do not know where he is. Crying in the darkness of that tomb, Jesus, stands before her, unrecognizable, and breaths, Mary. Mary. 

 

As you hear this, remember the other time we heard Jesus calling our names. When we are lost and cannot find our way. When we are broken and hurting and in need of healing. When we feel like we’ve come to the brink, and Jesus calls our name and brings us home. The shepherd calls our name, and we hear the voice of compassion and love. This is what Mary hears, this is what we hear. And contained in that name, Mary, is all of Jesus’ love for her, and for us. Jesus’ love saturates our grief. Mary is filled with the assurance that Jesus is right there with her, we are filled with the assurance that Jesus is right here with us, can we hear? Can we see?

 

Mary wants to hold on to Jesus, isn’t that what we want to do? When those we love die, we want to hold on in our grief. But Jesus is very clear with Mary that he will go, and after this very real resurrection Jesus will not leave her, or us, alone. And Jesus does not want Mary to hold on to him; he tells her to go and tell the others. And she announces to everyone, “I have seen the Lord”. 

 

There is power in these words of Mary. Power born of grief, power born of compassion, power born of brokenness. Mary, beautiful Mary Magdalen, was an outlier, her power was not as a result of authority or control, her power, maybe even her super power, was in compassion and sight, born out of derision. 

 

Mary’s words are spoken to those who follow Jesus, those who gathered in fear in the early hours of that first morning, and us, who gather in joy on this most beautiful Easter day. “I have seen the Lord.” The light is breaking through, the dark does not win. 

 

This is the way of Love, this is the path we are on, the path from darkness to light, the path from death to life. 

 

As we look back at where we have been, where have you seen the Lord? Who are the Mary’s who have called out to you, “I have seen the Lord?” Where have you seen compassion and love? Who has called your name? Is there someone who has grabbed your hand and pulled you back, and said, “you are loved?”

 

Mary’s words are stunning, they are filled with hope. You see, not only do we look back, and see all the times when we have seen the Lord, we stand in God’s presence today. I look out on all of you, and I can say, “I see the Lord.” I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to love the Mary’s, the outliers. I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to love one another. And I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to say to all who have ears to hear, Alleluia, Christ is Risen. The Lord has risen indeed. Alleluia 

Good Friday April 15 2022

I think Good Friday is such a confusing day. Is it a day of mourning, or a day of rejoicing? Is it a day to be sad, or is it a day of forgiveness, love, and compassion? It is all of that. It is time out of time, it is unexpected, in it the system is broken, Jesus is broken, we are broken. What is good about Good Friday? 

 

I think what is good about Good Friday is that it shows us the true story about death. That there isn't just one death that each of us must die, but there are many. Over and over we must die to that which is killing us, over and over, to truly be ourselves, we must lay down all that gets in our way of the loving relationship that God desires with us. And that is good, and very different than what the world tells us is good. And it is different for each of us, the stuff that gets in our way, the idols we worship, the dependency on ourselves, security and safety. God says, lay that down, and don't pick it up again. Walk with me, depend on me.

 

We live this day, and many days, in the reality of this cross. You have been carrying your cross around with you all during lent. The cross that reminds you of God's love for you, the cross that reminds you that it is through death, and for Jesus, death on that cross, that you receive full and new life. The cross that reminds us of Jesus' brokenness, of our brokenness.

 

Good Friday shows us that something must die before the green and growing thing can take root and bear new life. Good Friday shows us that forgiveness is about pruning that which is dead anyway, so that God can affect in us the new life that God promises. Good Friday shows us that the work Jesus does on the cross matters, that God's love for humanity, and the healing that love affects, saves us. 

 

Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane is Lord, not my will but yours be done. Giving up our will is not a bad thing. In our culture that is all about you, all about what you want and when you want it, obedience becomes a bad word. But it is being who God wants us to be that is a good thing, and that requires that we die to whatever it is that holds us hostage, whatever it is that is killing us.

 

Good Friday shows us holy dying, it is not easy, but it is a part of life. You see, the truth is that being human means being born to die. Again, none of us gets out of here alive. Jesus’ life, and suffering and death on a Roman cross not only show us how to do it, but Jesus, on that Roman cross, takes our place. On this night we remember all this. We enter into the story of the passion.  We hear the story in the voices of those who were with Jesus that terrible night. We do so not to glorify Jesus’ death or any other death, we do it so that we may be healed, we may be reconciled, that we may have the absolutely new and abundant life that God offers in the life, suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

 

The people who populate this story, and the events of this passion, the betrayal, the lies, the apathy, the bad luck, allow each of us to enter the story. You and I are these people, we are people who have betrayed and been betrayed, we are people who have lied and who have been lied to, we are people who have shown apathy, and we are people who experience just darn bad luck. We are people who have experienced sadness and pain, we are people who feel isolated and alienated at times. We are human beings who live in the muck and mess of this life. What we do together this evening, and even the joyous resurrection we will celebrate together on Sunday, doesn’t take away the reality of the muck and mess in which we live. We carry these crosses, they are part of who we are.

 

So what does happen when we walk the way of the cross with Jesus, when we enter into the events of this holy week and this holy day? Why do we all show up all these evenings to walk the way of the cross with Jesus? We grow toward Holy Dying and transformation happens. I surely hope we are changed by our encounter with the people on the way, the people in the stories, and by the amazing love that God has for us that we know because God is willing to be one of us. Because only a God who is willing to be one of us, a God who has such faith in us, is a God in which I can place my love, my loyalty, my attention.

What changes? Jesus does not fight violence with violence, hatred, or revenge. Love wins. Jesus takes on all of our betrayal, all of our lies, our apathy, all of our pain, sadness, loneliness and isolation, and Jesus defeats it, not by resisting it with the sort of violence that was visited upon him, but by absorbing it and removing it through the power of love. 

 

And Jesus’ dying on the cross looks to the world like failure. Jesus suffered, Jesus died. But Jesus did not fail. Jesus redefined death and life. Death does not have the final word; death does not have the victory. The Word of God has the final word.

 

What Jesus did on the cross was to make it possible for us to have new life, a life that our words cannot begin to describe, a life that our minds cannot begin to imagine. What Jesus did and does is to make it possible for us to be make whole, to be put back together again, to be loved wholly and completely. 

 

Winning and losing have no meaning in Jesus’ Kingdom; love and forgiveness are gifts. Success and failure have no meaning in Jesus’ Kingdom; sharing and walking together are gifts. Even isolation, and have felt isolation deeply, has no meaning in Jesus’ Kingdom; relationship and connection are gifts, even through zoom and live streaming.

 

Death is real and grief hurts and sometimes we just have to sit in the silence and cry and wait. Can we do that? Can we sit in the pain and loneliness with those who suffer? That is what this Good Friday is about. In these past days, and weeks, and months, we have more experience than we would wish, in this. It is very like when we sit with our loved ones in hospital, or at home, waiting, quite unsure of what to do or what to think, silence and sadness and tears, are our only activity. 

 

Too many Christians want to go straight from the garden of Gethsemane to the garden of the empty tomb without going by way of the hill of crucifixion and the stone-cold body. It seems too painful to sit in silence, waiting and grieving. And yet nothing of the reality of Christ’s victory over evil on the cross, or our faith in the resurrection to come soon, must be allowed to shield us from the awful brute fact that Jesus died. And that death, that brokenness, makes us whole.

 

We have come through so much, heartache, sadness, and we look forward to joy, hope, love. For now, we wait.

 

Tonight, we sit in the tension, of life, death, and new life. Watch, and wait.  

Maundy Thursday April 14 2022

Maundy Thursday April 14 2022

Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14, 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, John 13:1-17, 31b-35, Psalm 116:1, 10-17

 

We enter John’s gospel tonight, and we will stay here throughout the Day of Pentecost. You all know about John’s gospel, the words that John uses that point us to the intimacy of Jesus’ relationship with us, God’s beloveds, Jesus followers. 

 

This is a gathering of Jesus followers, Jesus’ disciples. They are all there. Imagine having been at this particular meal. Hordes of people are arriving in Jerusalem for the Passover festival. The actual Passover meal takes place two days hence. Our liturgical celebration has conflated the Passover meal with this particular meal that John writes about. Indeed, it is the last supper that Jesus and his friends will have together. 

 

Jerusalem is crowded, and everyone is clamoring for a place to eat the meal. You, being a friend of Jesus, are in this room, with these people, reclining at this table. Bartholomew, James, Andrew, Judas, Peter, John, Mary, Thomas, the other James, Joanna, Philip, Matthew, Susanna, Thaddeus, Simon, and all the other men and women and children who were gathered that night. The meal is spread before you, the unleavened bread, the roasted lamb, and the bitter herbs. The hour has finally come, the hour that was introduced to us at the wedding at Cana. 

 

 

One of the verses left out of tonight’s reading, unfortunately, is verse 23, “One of his disciples—the one whom Jesus loved—was reclining next to him.” Actually, they were all reclining. Unfortunately, DaVinci’s portrayal of the Last Supper does not give us the picture of how this really looked. All who were gathered for this last meal, though they didn’t yet know it was, were reclining, on pillows and cushions. The beloved disciple was reclining next to Jesus, with his head on Jesus’ breast. 

 

I want you to put yourself in the place of the beloved disciple, reclining next to Jesus, maybe even laying your head on Jesus. Can you feel that love? That intimacy? In that moment everything was all right. Everyone is together, sharing a meal. And in the middle of the meal, Jesus gets up, he takes off his robe and ties a towel around himself, and washes their feet, an incredibly intimate gesture that demonstrates Jesus’ ultimate love. And in this context, the foot washing comes from love, the love that Jesus has for his own. Jesus loved them to the end. This is an act of love and of compassion. 

 

And yet, included in those gathered for that meal on that night, are Judas, who will betray Jesus, and Peter, who will deny Jesus, and the rest of the disciples who after the crucifixion flee in fear. Humans, all of them. This is the truth in this story. Jesus has been with them for three years, Jesus who is incarnation, God in the flesh. The end of incarnation, Jesus’ death, is front and center in this act of love, this foot washing. This lavish loving on the disciples who are also fully human, fully a hot mess, fully dysfunctional, fully alive, fully flawed, fully who they are.

 

Who are we on this night? Are we the one who betrays Jesus, the one who walks out of the room where it happened? Are we the one who denies Jesus? Are we the one who reclines on Jesus? Where will we be at the end of this, will we stay in the relationship or not, this difficult relationship. 

 

The foot washing is framed by the last meal. This last meal in which Jesus gives us the words that make real Jesus’ love for us. 

 

Sometimes life's events feel so big, and wide, and broad, and overwhelming. The pain and the joy of life bring us soaring to the mountaintops and to the depths of despair. And much of life is lived somewhere in between, in the mundane sacramental moments of making dinner for those we love, or driving our children to dance and music class, or doing our taxes, or taking a bath, washing feet or dreaming dreams. It is in the ordinary Jesus shows us sacred. In the muck and mess that is washed from our feet.

 

In the ordinary meal, our cracks are filled, our fissures healed, we are made whole. In the mundane washing, we overflow with mercy and compassion. Jesus seeps into our very being, washes us, feeds us, heals us. Jesus shows us who God is, and Jesus teaches us who we are, and then we may show that love to others.

 

Let me wash your feet, take this bread, and you will be healed. Jesus offers love, and forgiveness, healing and compassion. And Jesus shows us how to do what we are called to do.

 

On this night, the night Jesus is handed over to be tortured, betrayed by his friend, Love really does win. 

 

The violence perpetrated on Jesus is hard to hear, hard to watch, because you and I are implicated in it. We have not been perfect. We have judged, we have bullied, we have missed the mark. We have offered ridicule when mercy was called for. We have fallen asleep when we should have paid attention. But, we are loved perfectly. Love still wins. 

 

The gift we are given this night, mercy and compassion, foot washing and food, washes over us, nourishes us, puts us back together. We are re-membered. Come and receive the gift. Come, and remember who you are. Jesus, is here, in our midst, walking with us. Come, be filled with the love that gives everything and takes nothing. And you will know what love looks like.