Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost Yr A Proper 17 August 30 2020

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Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost Yr A Proper 17 August 30 2020

Exodus 3:1-15, Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28

 

There is so much suffering going on just now, isn’t there. Our siblings in Christ are suffering with hurricanes in Louisiana and Texas, again. They are suffering with wildfires in California, again. We are witnessing the rise and fall of unrest in our cities. There is so much suffering going on, whether related to COVID, racial injustice, economic hardship, emotional despair, our own loved one’s deaths, or more. Not to make light of our situation, but It feels like that carnival game, whack a mole, ya just keep whacking and as soon as one gets hit another one pops up.

 

But in all of this Matthew reminds us, in all these things, not just Christ’s cross is present, but Christ himself – holding us, lamenting with us, encouraging us, and promising us the strength to endure and, having endured, to flourish and, flourishing, to help others do the same. In Matthew's gospel we hear, "those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life." 

 

Jesus continues on his way to Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, Jesus is charged with sedition, and is sentenced to death on a cross. In the eyes of the culture, then and now, death, and especially death on a cross - was not only terminal but counted as failure as well. We know that Jesus' mortal life ends on a cross, hung between two thieves. But the reality of this story, this story of life and death and resurrection, is that what the world counts as loss, what seems like failure, what looks to the world as death, is really something else altogether, something amazing, something astounding, something completely new. When a new doorway is opened, another doorway is closed. When a seed is planted in the ground, it comes up looking nothing like it did when it went into the ground. When a branch is pruned, it makes way, it leaves space for completely new growth. For every new thing, something dies, and is born again in an unimagined way.

 

And the reality is that this life takes a lot of death. That's not necessarily a bad thing. It is usually painful, but it's most definitely not failure. It just is. The world shifts under our feet, what happens is not exactly what we expect. The shifting is literal, earthquakes and hurricanes and floods. The shifting is violent, wars and shootings, protests and counter protests. The shifting is heart-wrenching, broken hearts and broken lives, and the shifting is decisive, as when we experience the death of our loved ones. 

 

And that, you see, that is what Peter is railing against. Even to Peter, Jesus' impending ordeal and death looks like failure. What a disappointment this must have been, what a baffling shift in expectations. Not unlike our shifting expectations, our redefinition of normal. Clearly, this is not what Peter had imagined. Peter says something like, "listen, Jesus, this cannot be what God intends for you. There must be a different way. This is not what our deliverer ought to do. Suffering and dying is what we have all endured, prophet and ordinary person alike. You are supposed to be different. You are supposed to save us from all our enemies!"

 

Peter himself is wondering what it looks like to follow the Messiah, the anointed of God. We wonder what it looks like to be a follower of Jesus. That path is lined with crosses and paved with Jesus’ passion. This is a matter of life and death for Jesus’ followers as much as it is for Jesus. It is about making space for the new thing that will grow, that must grow.

 

And there are things that we must let die, things that demand our time and attention that pull us away from true relationship, things that cause us to judge others, things that disconnect us and fragment our beings, these are the things that pull us away from mercy and compassion, love and justice. These are the things that harden our hearts and keep us from forgiveness and healing. These are the things that grip our hearts and minds so tightly, we cannot see beyond them. These are the things that cause us to judge, ridicule, and oppress. These things are seductive, like all things that divert our attention from the one who loves us. They are not intrinsically bad things, they may in fact seem like good things, but their false claim is so strong that we cannot pay attention to that which has the ultimate claim on our lives and our souls, which is Love. The Love of the creator for all of creation, the Love of the creator who is willing to show us how it's done, the Love of the creator who gives up all power to show us the way of the cross, to show us the way of Love, and mercy, and compassion, and reconciliation, and healing. 

 

That is what is happening in this passage from Matthew. Peter and the disciples, and you and me, are witnessing this powerful thing that God is doing in our lives and in our world, then and now and in the age to come. As followers of Jesus we are called to lay down that which is killing us, and to pick up the new life that Jesus offers. It is not really easy. And yet we learn that suffering and death, each and every death that is part of this life, this cruciform existence, is not all that there will be. The Son of Man will return and bring justice in this world. Such justice is not merely the paying off of old debts or the settling of bitter scores. Instead, this justice is a promise of deliverance.

 

The cross will appear to span finality. The cross will appear to be the end of the story for us all. But the promise Jesus makes here and the promises God has made from the beginning assure a future, a future in which justice blooms, a future in which the hungry are fed and the imprisoned are comforted. And that future is not a long way off. 

 

Can you imagine it? Can you imagine that God is at work in and through your life for the good of the world? Can you imagine that this congregation has something of value to offer our community? Can you imagine that when you befriend the lonely or encourage the frightened heaven rejoices? Can you imagine that, though afraid, when you stand up to those who spew hate God is with you? Can you imagine that even small acts of love and generosity challenge the world order and introduce a different reality? Can you imagine that God wants for us not just comfort but freedom? Can you imagine that love is more powerful than hate? Can you imagine that God raised Jesus from the dead?

 

We stand at a crossroads, a cross really, in our lives today. We stand at this place where we must choose the way of Jesus, the place that to some, the mighty and powerful, looks like failure, but that is a lie. The very hard truth of the cross is that we are so very much like Peter, believing that Jesus can deliver us from this life that is so very hard sometimes, believing that Jesus can deliver wealth and prosperity to us if only we are good enough and pray hard enough and go to the right church. The truth of the cross is love. The truth of the cross is that Jesus embraces all of creation, not just some or a part of creation. We must imagine the way forward with God who raises Jesus from the dead.  Amen, Alleluia!

 

2 Lent Yr B Feb 25 2018

2 Lent Yr B Feb 25 2018 Audio

Eugene Peterson, who we know best from his bible translation called The Message, wrote a book called A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. What a curious title. And yet the title describes what I have come to think Lent is about, a long obedience in the same direction. You see, Lent is this opportunity we are given to practice what it is we really do for our whole lives. It is a long obedience in the same direction, and that direction is God.

We focus particularly during Lent on the discipline of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. The discipline of prayer; putting ourselves in the posture of listening. The discipline of fasting; giving up that which keeps our attention away from love, giving up that which keeps us hostage to fear, giving up that which seduces us into a sense of superiority. And the discipline of almsgiving. The discipline of Almsgiving is sharing our wealth, all of it, not just the money. Sharing our wealth of compassion, sharing our wealth of joy, and sharing our wealth of food and shelter.

So in his book Eugene Peterson writes something I find rather odd, he says, "people submerged in a culture swarming with lies and malice feel as if they are drowning in it: they can trust nothing they hear, depend on no one they meet. Such dissatisfaction with the world as it is is preparation for traveling in the way of Christian discipleship. The dissatisfaction, coupled with a longing for peace and truth, can set us on a pilgrim path of wholeness in God. "

In our conversations around the baptismal promise, we will persevere in resisting evil, what is becoming evident is that we have a deep distrust, and that leads to fear. And as long as we are afraid of what might be, or around the next corner, we are held hostage to immediate fixes and shortsighted solutions, and so we do nothing.

We are afraid of not being the best, so we come up with short-term solutions to long-term issues. We are so sure of our status, we become afraid of our differences, we come up with ways to exclude people from benefits the rest of us take for granted, or we make laws that disregard the dignity of every human being. But fear and distrust is not the way God would have us live our lives. God would have us live our lives in Love and Hope, which is what is in our gospel today. Lay it down, Mark says, lay down all of that fear and anxiety and distrust, and take up the cross of God's love. Lay down all of that fear and anxiety and inner angst, so that there is room for mercy and compassion.

We have a cross in our pocket to help remind us of the long obedience, the long view. Lent gives us some practice in that long view. We can't just beam up to Easter and resurrection. We need to be on this journey, we need to carve out some time and space where we can let love in, let truth in, where we can set our minds on divine things. The truth we hear today is a very hard truth. Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for God's sake and the sake of the Good News, will save it. 

We get so convinced that our way is the right way, we tend to walk in front of Jesus, we think we can show Jesus the way. Jesus even is reported to say to Peter, "get behind me Satan." It's as if we say to Jesus, "our way, the way of the world, the way of greed, of power, the way of status and honor, these are the way Jesus. You'll never get ahead in the world if you don't take advantage of every situation, if you don't step on and over the ones who are too slow or too weak. You'll never get ahead if don't exert yourself as the best, the fastest, the most important. Following is for losers, being out in front where winners find themselves."

But that's not the way this story goes. We are to follow Jesus on a journey that just takes time, a whole lifetime, and even more than that. That's what Abraham and Sarah's story is about. God is calling Abraham and Sarah to God's future, not their wealth or our wealth, success, or even failure. Abraham and Sarah's story surely is a story that has a long view of things. No baby according to their plans and their timeline, but according to God, they are the parents of a nation. 

So what is this journey about? Why do these stories that seem so odd, that seem so counter cultural, that seem so topsy turvy, hold any meaning for us at all? This journey is to freedom, which is what God offers. Over and over the old testament stories show God's people that they are free, and for a while they live in freedom. But they always seem to fall back, miss the mark, making bricks for Pharaoh is a sure thing. Wandering in the wilderness, looking for food and a place to make camp, pitch their tents, is so much more uncertain. God's freedom is a lot more uncertain than the certainty of riches. 

So you see, creating the quiet space, making camp, pitching your tent, is to listen to God's call to love and freedom. Those who lose their life for God's sake will save it. As we make this pilgrimage, and practice this long view of things, as we become followers of Jesus, rather than try to tell Jesus what to do, we begin to be transformed and formed in God's image. We become the people who include rather than exclude. We become the people who love no matter what. We become the people who fall on our knees in repentance when we miss the mark, and rise up in praise to give God glory. We become the people who carry the light for someone walking in great darkness and we will walk beside someone who can carry the light for us. We will stand shoulder to shoulder at the table with a whole bunch of imperfect, but perfectly loved, people of all ages—and we will leave renewed, strengthened and forgiven.

We are these people. We are these people who risk uncertainty, who risk imperfection, who risk being openhearted, for Jesus' sake. We are the people who encounter Jesus in the mess and the muck, we are the people who encounter Jesus in children among us, we are the people who sing mostly together and mostly on the right notes, whether we know the song or not. And we are the people who resist the easy fix or the easy way out. We are the followers of Jesus who stand up for what’s right; we are the followers of Jesus who figure out how to protect the most vulnerable. Because the kingdom is not about perfection or certainty or judgment, the kingdom is about love and freedom, the kingdom is about encountering Jesus in the here and now, the kingdom is not about us and our institutions and our judgments and our morality, the kingdom is about God. 

Following Jesus on this journey is to follow the way of love, and freedom, it is to accompany one another on the way, no one is excluded. It is to fall down, and to take the hand of the one who reaches out to us in love; it is to reach out in love to the one who has fallen down. And then we can take out the real cross, made not of pretty stones but of our own arms spread out to welcome and to embrace. Now that's a cross we can carry.

Feast of the Holy Cross, transferred, Sept 17, 2017

Feast of the Holy Cross, transferred, Sept 17, 2017 Audio

From the moment John opens his story, in the first few lines of this fourth gospel, John proclaims, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it… The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” John’s first words call upon the creation story in Genesis, they imagine with us the incarnation, the Word becomes flesh for the sake of the world God loves, and helps us to cast our gaze to crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension.

The passage from John before us today follows Jesus’ last teaching. It follows Mary’s anointing Jesus’ feet, and Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the place of his death. The path John shows us is a path of love and light, light that enlightens, light that emboldens, light that illuminates all people everywhere. And the scene before us today follows this request of the Greeks, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” We are joined on this journey together with those who wish to see Jesus.

Jesus, God in the flesh, is the Light that enlightens the world. Even through this horrible death on a cross, God’s love extends and includes all of creation, you and me. You’d think John and Martin Luther King Jr. broke bread together, as Martin Luther King Jr. had said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

What is it we see? What does this Light that is God’s love in the world, reveal to us? The scene and the activity point us forward to Jesus’ death, death that looks to the world as failure and loss, but the means of Jesus’ death, and the hope of exaltation, resurrection and ascension is illuminated as well. The words announce to us that God’s love in the flesh, Jesus, is the Light, and the Light will never go out. We also learn that the Light is meant for everyone, not just some, not just the ones in the inner circle, surely not just the rich and powerful, not just the cool kids, but everyone. And John is grappling with a question of belief, or maybe disbelief. John wonders why some who have encountered Jesus believe that he is God in the flesh, God’s love made real, and some do not. John wonders how disbelief is even possible. For John, responding to the light, the revelation, the appearance of God in the flesh, is belief.

So when wondering about John’s question, why do some, many, most, in fact, not believe, the answer is may be somewhere in the experience of the Jews of Jesus’ circle, belief in Jesus put them out of the synagogue, out on the margins. So how do you fashion your life around that which looks like loss and defeat?

Death on a cross looks like a loss. In any definition of winning today, death, especially death on a cross, looks like loss, defeat, it sure doesn’t look like victory. Victory is winning. Winning is good, that’s what we hear from the one who holds the highest office in our country, and others who hold on tightly to power. It’s all about the win, and winning is worth any collateral damage it takes to get there. Dying on a cross sure isn’t winning. Telling the truth, and then dying on a cross, sure isn’t winning. It’s as true for us as it was for those who heard Jesus, who saw the wonders Jesus has done. Putting your faith in a guy who gets put to death on a cross, puts you on the margins, it puts you out of the winners circle. And it would have put you out of the synagogue, and life outside of the synagogue, in the world of 1^st century Mediterranean culture for a Jew, would have been worse than death.

If you were Jesus’ friend, Jesus’ follower, and you witnessed Jesus’ death on that cross, how would you react? Protests, riots, calls for retribution. We see that all the time, and we call it righteous outrage. How could this death possibly happen? This person was innocent, we would have hoped for a far different outcome. Something that didn’t look like, couldn’t possibly be, death, on a cross.

And then there’s Judas. Judas, who very soon betrays Jesus into the hands of the authorities. Judas, who was a trusted friend. Judas, who just couldn’t believe how Jesus could possibly be Messiah, the anointed one. He didn’t act like the Messiah, he consorted with sinners, with women, with unclean outsiders. Judas, who was one of the inner circle, who loved Jesus, and whom Jesus loved, who had spent his sleeping and waking hours with Jesus, in the middle of a garden, handed him over. The sadness, the grief, in this act of betrayal is almost too much to bear.

It gets mighty dark, and still, the Light doesn’t go out, and still, the love that is God’s own body, does not lash out in hate.

John tells us that the victory here is of a whole different sort. It was all about his being lifted up. That’s how God, the true God, the God of astonishing, generous love, would be glorified. Swords or bullets don’t glorify the creator-God, Love does. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Everytime I visit these verses I come away feeling somewhat battered, bruised, and I have to take a break, sit in the quiet, light a candle, and wait. I have to wait for the light to dawn on me, again. And when it does, and it will, I am emboldened to do what Jesus calls me to do, to do what this relationship with Jesus, with God in the flesh, calls me to do, and that is to risk love again. We are called by this dying and rising, we are called by this light that does not go out, we are called by this love that does not seek revenge, retribution, or power, to love.

That is what is happening here. That is where our belief, our faith, lives. In God in the flesh, love made real. When our own faith wanes, when our own disbelief takes hold, we find hope in love in the flesh, love made real. When we pray for our loved ones that they may find the kind of absolute and unconditional love that God has for us, God’s children, and that is made real in the love poured out on the cross, we can find it here. As Jesus says to his mother as she stands at the foot of the cross, “woman, here is your son,” so we too are part of the family that loves and cares for one another. Jesus shows us how that is done through the signs and wonders of this gospel. Jesus breaks bread and feeds thousands, so that all may be fed, all may be healed.

Today, the light shines brightly and we believe in Jesus, God in the flesh, when we see these signs in action, and when we participate in the goodness. But it’s not always that way. There are days, weeks, months, maybe years of disbelief. Especially when it feels like God is distant, especially when the hurt is palpable, especially when the wind blows, the waters rise, and the fires rage. The modern day prophet, Fred Rogers, calls us to look for the helpers. In the midst of tragedy, in the midst of devastation, look for those who run in to help. Be those who run in to help, there is always enough so no one goes hungry or thirsty. Not only our friends and neighbors in Texas and Florida and Montana, but those right here on our very streets, men and women who are our neighbors.

This is the truth of the cross, the truth of love hanging on the cross, the truth that the light will not be put out, the truth that love wins.

May the light shine in our lives, and when our faith wavers, and our belief falters, and our grief grips our hearts, may we share what we have, the love that gave up all power for us. Amen.

13 Pentecost Proper 17 Yr A Sept 3 2017

13 Pentecost Proper 17 Sept 3 2017 Audio

What is it that God has done and is doing through Jesus' life, death, and resurrection? As followers of Jesus, I think this is an important question we must address, I do think it takes a lifetime journey to find an answer to that question, and I’m pretty sure the answer lives in the realm of mystery. But what I do know is that figuring out how to live takes embracing not only life but death as well. In Matthew's gospel we hear, "those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life." 

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, Jesus is charged with sedition, and is sentenced to death on a cross. In the eyes of the culture, then and now, death, and especially death on a cross -  was not only terminal, but counted as failure as well. We know that Jesus' mortal life ends on a cross, hung between two thieves. But the reality of this story, this story of life and death and resurrection, is that what the world counts as loss, what seems like failure, what looks to the world as death, is really something amazing, something astounding, something completely new. When a new doorway is opened, another doorway is closed. When a seed is planted in the ground, it comes up looking nothing like it did when it went into the ground. When a branch is pruned, it makes way, it leaves space for completely new growth. For every new thing, something dies, and is born again in an unimagined way.

The reality is that this life takes a lot of death. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, it's also not necessarily a good thing either. It is usually painful, but it's most definitely not failure. It just is. The world shifts under our feet, it is not exactly what we expect, it is not what the world expects. The shifting is literal, earthquakes and hurricanes and floods. The shifting is violent, wars and shootings, protests and counter protests. The shifting is heart-wrenching, broken hearts and broken lives, and the shifting is decisive, when we experience the death of our loved ones. 

And that, you see, that is what Peter is railing against. Even to Peter, Jesus' impending ordeal and death looks like failure. What a disappointment this must have been, what a baffling shift in expectations. Clearly, this is not what Peter had imagined. Peter says something like, "listen, Jesus, this cannot be what God intends for you. There must be a different way. This is not what our deliverer ought to do. Suffering and dying is what we have all endured, prophet and ordinary person alike. You are supposed to be different. You are supposed to save us from all our enemies!"

What does it look like to follow the Messiah, the anointed of God? What does it look like to be a follower of Jesus? That path is lined with crosses and paved with Jesus’ passion. This is a matter of life and death for Jesus’ followers as much as it is for Jesus. It is about making space for the new thing that will grow, that must grow. We usually don't really even know what that looks like until we are facing it head on, or until we trip over it, or until we step in it. You know what I mean, what is it you must lose, so that you may live fully alive? What is it you have to die to, or let die, so that you can live fully and completely the new creation that God promises?

The things that we must let die, the things that demand our time and attention that pull us away from true relationship, the things that cause us to judge others, the things that disconnect us and fragment our beings, these are the things that pull us away from mercy and compassion, love and justice. These are the things that harden our hearts and keep us from forgiveness and healing. These are the things grip our hearts and minds so tightly, we cannot see beyond them. These are the things that cause us to judge, ridicule, and oppress. These things are seductive, like all things that divert our attention from the one who loves us to the things that will destroy us. They are not intrinsically bad things, they may in fact seem like good things, but their false claim is so strong on us that we can not pay attention to that which has the ultimate claim on our lives and our souls, which is Love. The Love of the creator for all of creation, the Love of the creator who is willing to show us how it's done, the Love of the creator who gives up all power to show us the way of the cross, to show us the way of Love, and mercy, and compassion, and reconciliation, and healing. 

That is what is happening in this passage from Matthew. Peter and the disciples, and you and me, are witnessing this powerful thing that God is doing in our lives and in our world, then and now and in the age to come. As followers of Jesus we are called to lay down that which is killing us, and to pick up the new life that Jesus offers. It is not really easy. And yet we learn that suffering and death, each and every death that is part of this life, this cruciform existence is not all that there will be. The Son of Man will return and bring justice in this world. Such justice is not merely the paying off of old debts or the settling of bitter scores. Instead, this justice is a promise of deliverance.

The cross will appear to span finality. The cross will appear to be the end of the story for us all. But the promise Jesus makes here and the promises God has made from the beginning assure a future, a future in which justice blooms, a future in which the hungry are fed and the imprisoned are comforted. And that future is not a long way off. 

Can you imagine it? Can you imagine that God is at work in and through your life for the good of the world? Can you imagine that this congregation has something of value to offer our community? Can you imagine that when you befriend the lonely or encourage the frightened heaven rejoices? Can you imagine that, though afraid, when you stand up to those who spew hate God is with you? Can you imagine that even small acts of love and generosity challenge the world order and introduce a different reality? Can you imagine that God wants for us not just comfort but freedom? Can you imagine that love is more powerful than hate? Can you imagine that God raised Jesus from the dead?

We stand at a crossroads, a cross really, in our lives today. We stand at this place where we must choose the way of Jesus, the place that to some, the mighty and powerful, looks like failure, but that is a lie. The very hard truth of the cross is that we are so very much like Peter, believing that Jesus can deliver us from this life that is so very hard sometimes, believing that Jesus can deliver wealth and prosperity to us if only we are good enough and pray hard enough and go to the right church. The truth of the cross is love. The truth of the cross is that Jesus embraces all of creation, not just some or a part of creation. We must imagine the way forward with God who raises Jesus from the dead. 

7 Easter Yr C May 8 2016

7 Easter Yr C Audio

7 Easter Yr C May 8 2016

Time, we never have enough, it goes too fast, it drags, it can be our enemy and sometimes our friend. I begin today with a quotation from my favorite author, Madeleine L’engle. She writes, “We need to remember that the house of God is not limited to a building that we usually visit for only a few hours on Sunday. The house of God is not a safe place. It is a cross where time and eternity meet, and where we are—or should be – challenged to live more vulnerably, more interdependently. Where, even with the light streaming in rainbow colors through the windows, we can listen to the stars.” Many of Madeleine’s stories deal with time, a wrinkle in time, an acceptable time, the irrational season, and yet she never sets out to tell stories about time. We are, or at least I am, fascinated by stories about time. I used to like to watch The Time Tunnel, and I was fascinated by the story, The Time Traveler’s Wife. John’s Revelation is also all about time, although he never sets out to tell us a story about time.

So let’s hear again from Revelation. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. It is I, Jesus, who sent my angel to you with this testimony for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star. The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come.’ And let everyone who hears say, ‘Come.’ And let everyone who is thirsty come. The one who testifies to these things says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

What John is doing here is proclaiming the one who is the Alpha and the Omega, the first and last, the beginning and end. In other words, he proclaims faith in a God who spans all time, who lovingly embraces all time. This faith in God has been the foundation of his message to people of God who are suffering. To people who wonder why God has allowed time to be invested with pain and suffering. John's answer to them is to show them the one who sits on the throne of heaven, the one who is the beginning and end of all things, and so is the one who can promise an ending to the pain, a time when God will wipe away our tears and all suffering will come to an end. John proclaims to us a God who stands outside of time and who comes into time, into the midst of humanity and all it’s suffering along with all its joy, and embraces all time with divine love.

There is much mystery here. Time in Revelation is not the straight line of our lives, or the straight line of history, with a beginning and an end. Time in Revelation is much more like the wrinkle that Madeleine L’engle imagines in A Wrinkle in Time, like when you take a piece of fabric and fold it. (show this) Or as it is imagined as a cross where time and eternity meet. Getting out of the way of thinking about time in a linear fashion opens John’s Revelation to be what it really is, not an end times predictor, but an invitation to live fully and completely in this present that God creates and redeems.

The Good News here is that the Creator God, the God of the universe, the God that we worship, not only creates time, but also comes into time and walks with us in the midst of our joy and our suffering. This is Good News indeed. John shows us this mysterious reality.

As if the eternal nature of God isn't hard enough to understand, this God is one who also enters time. As eternal, God is outside of time but through Jesus steps into time to redeem it...and us. How so? This is what can be difficult for us to understand. For, if you or I were making the decisions, we would redeem the world by ridding it of evil, by simply wiping out all those people and all those things that give us pain, who give us a hard time, who we don’t like and disagree with. Wouldn't we? But God doesn't choose to do that. Thankfully, God is God, and we are not. I'm not sure if it's because God is perfect love and we aren't, but God chooses differently. God chooses instead to suffer with those who suffer in time, with a promise that some day, some time, it will be different.

So there is an invitation before us, the spirit and the bride say come, let everyone who hears say come, let everyone who is thirsty, come. This is an invitation to live the full and abundant life that God intends for us right now, at this intersection of time and space, at this intersection of earth and heaven, at this intersection of cross and empty tomb, right now. The invitation to us is to welcome the One who comes into our limitedness, our humanness, who comes into time as we know it; the invitation is to be fully present to that abundant love and grace. The invitation is to not be ruled by the past and the future, but to live in God’s presence.

If we accept the invitation to live in God’s presence, God’s time, at this intersection of cross and empty tomb, what does it matter? We have also learned from Revelation that this present time is God’s realm. So if we accept the invitation to come, if we accept the invitation to live fully in God’s presence, we stand, or sit, or kneel, in resistance to the world’s insistence that we must always be in a hurry, or that we must always have our way, or that we must always meet violence with vengeance. We stand, or sit, or kneel, in resistance to the world’s insistence that you must live only for yourself, or that you must amass riches and wealth. We stand, or sit, or kneel in God’s presence in witness to the love that includes, the love that makes whole again what is broken, the love that unites and does not divide.

When we accept the invitation to live on God’s time, we live more vulnerably, more interdependently. When we accept the invitation to live on God’s time, we stop living to acquire and we give away and give over. When we accept the invitation to live on God’s time, we stop living in scarcity and are assured of enough. When we accept the invitation to live on God’s time, we stop living in fear, and we live in hope and in Love.

The one who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!