The only planting and growing I’ve ever really done is by accident. When I can throw seeds on the ground, cover them with good dirt, and leave them go, I am a successful gardener. You should have caught that I left out the watering part, the weeding part, the pruning part, because I tend to leave those parts out. I have been successful at growing tomatoes and beans, some green peppers, but not in this soil. So far anything I’ve planted in the garden here has died, too hot, too dry, and not enough effort. Vines and branches, mustard seeds, wheat and grain, Jesus sure liked to use metaphors of planting and harvesting, illustrations that bear much more fruit than my planting escapades.
There are two major metaphors of Jesus’ relationship with us presented in the Gospel of John. Last week was the good shepherd who calls us by name. Today it is this metaphor of the vine. In the other Gospels, there are other images. It is important to understand that there is not one way to describe, or illustrate, or show, Jesus’ relationship with us, it takes many metaphors to begin to give us an idea of what that relationship is really about.
This metaphor presents us with a way to show us Jesus’ relationship with us. The vine may be Jesus, the branches may be us and all the disciples, the pruner may be God, and the fruit may be the outcome of our relationship with Jesus. The theme may be that of an enduring relationship with Jesus and the joyous outcome of that relationship. The root of the metaphor is the verb abide. Eugene Peterson translates the verb “to live in me.” Make your home in me, as I make my home in you. That is the call of this gospel passage.
Try to imagine what the vine and the branches look like. The branches twist and turn and are intertwined with themselves and with the main trunk of the vine. When they are fully in leaf, you can't tell one branch apart from another, and it's hard to even see the vine itself. All the branches run together and are intertwined with one another, even as they receive their sustenance from the main vine. No one vine is more important than another. What an amazing picture of our relationship with Jesus and with one another, especially in our society that values individualism and competition, this is about interdependence rather than independence. This is about community; it is about the body of Christ.
Essentially this metaphor is about love. Love is at the heart of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Love is the measure of faithfulness. It is about the kind of love that is anonymous rather than self-proclaimed. It is the kind of love that puts the other over the self. It is the kind of love that Jesus shows to us, it is the kind of love that we are called to show forth. We are called to make our home in Jesus, and to live in the midst of this self-giving love. It is the very nature of this relationship that bears fruit; fruit is the joyous outcome of this relationship.
The next verses in John are these, translated by Eugene Peterson, “I’ve told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends.” And a few lines later, “You didn’t choose me, remember; I chose you, and put you in the world to bear fruit, fruit that won’t spoil. Remember the root command: Love one another. “This relationship that Jesus calls us into, this relationship that puts the other over the self, bears fruit, and the fruit is love. Remember too where this passage is in John’s gospel. Jesus has just washed the disciples feet, Jesus is teaching his followers how to carry on when he is gone, as well as trying to instruct them about what it is he is doing by going to the cross.
You and I are disciples too. We have been baptized into the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Our baptismal ministry is this, to live in this community of faith, to be fed by this interdependent body of Christ, to be pruned by the God who creates us, and to bear the fruit that is loving one another. What is to keep us from being like Philip in the reading from Acts today, Philip who proclaims to the Ethiopian the good news about Jesus? As they were going along the road they came to some water and the eunuch said, “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
What is to prevent you from being baptized? What is to prevent you from bearing fruit? What is to prevent us from loving the other? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Make your home in me, as I make my home in you. That is the call of this gospel passage. We have all we need to bear fruit. Since I am such a poor gardener, I am encouraged by this passage; it really isn’t up to me. We do have to respond to God’s grace and love and pruning, but we’re not the pruner. I am reminded once again that God is God and I am not. Our home is in God’s grace; God sees to the pruning, it is that nourishment, that growth, our connection to that vine that gives us what we need to love one another, to bear fruit.
I do believe this is what we need today. To take seriously our interdependence, To take seriously the anonymity of this gospel, to take seriously the call to be in this life together, and to bear the sweet fruit of love, rather than the sour grapes of bitterness or enmity, prejudice or hatred. Jesus shows us though that bearing fruit is costly. This is not a love that necessarily feels good or has a happy ending. It is a love that puts the other first; it is a love of respect and dignity.
The challenge of the vine and the branches is to practice what we preach. The challenge of bearing fruit is to remember that the work we need to do happens out in the world, the love we need to show forth begins here, but flourishes only when we bring it to the lost and the hurting, when we bring healing and reconciliation into the world. The love we need to show flourishes when we are the agents of resurrection in the world.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
4 Easter Yr B
Hear the sound of your name as the one you love speaks it. Hear the sound of your name as your best friend in all the world is on the other end of the phone. Remember the sound of your name when your mom called you for dinner, or maybe used your entire name when you did something you shouldn’t have done, or sang you to sleep at night. Even remember the sound of your name when used in anger, or in fear, Kathy, get out of the street! When you hear your name like this, you know the one who is speaking it knows who you are. They’ve known you forever, they knew you before you were born, they’ve expected your homecoming, they named you, they love you.
Today we hear Jesus call us by name, if we are the sheep, and Jesus is the shepherd. In the verses right before these we heard read this morning, Jesus says “the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.” And in our passage, “I know my own and my own know me…they will listen to my voice.” Hear the sound of your name as this one who loves you speaks it. You were called into being before you were born. Your name was spoken at your baptism. You are called to be the person you were created to be, the minister you were created to be. Kathy, follow me, you’ll be fed by green pastures and still waters, I will guide along right pathways, and be by your side through the valley of the shadow of death. I will feed you, and fill you. You have been anointed for the work I call you to do.
Each of us are called by name, often lovingly, sometimes urgently, like the sheep, we seek that voice that calls. Sometimes, we wander far and get caught in the brambles, we get hurt, we break our leg. The radical nature of this shepherd is come back for us. That is the good news of this shepherd. Because shepherds don’t do that. The shepherd pictured on the front of our bulletin today wouldn’t have gone back for the hurt and lost sheep. He would have aided that sheep’s demise, a hurt or lost sheep is a liability to an ordinary sheepherder.
I have mixed feelings about Shepherds. The one’s we see portrayed in artwork often look kind and caring, very pastoral. I’ve heard people say that shepherding is good for people who want to be alone; they don’t really have to talk to anyone except the sheep. Some of the commentary’s say that in Jesus’ time, shepherding was for the miscreants, the dregs, shepherding was a job that was scorned by most. A shepherd had to endure the ravages of heat and cold, the attacks by the wolf and other predators. The shepherd had to keep track of all those sheep. A shepherd’s job was not for the faint of heart.
But you and I are called by name, and this particular shepherd is not like the others. This shepherd says and does something truly radical. “I lay down my life for my sheep. I lay down my life in order to take it up again.” What shepherd does that? Jesus, this shepherd, shows us how to live our lives in the new creation. Jesus leads the way of death and resurrection. Jesus shows us that we don’t live our lives as servants because of our reward now or at the end of time, Jesus shows us that in living our lives fully as new creations, as transformed and transforming people, our daily lives spent in the muck and the mud and the mess, have meaning.
We are loved absolutely and abundantly. Jesus laid down his life; he suffered and was killed, and was resurrected from the dead. We follow the shepherd in laying down our lives and taking it up again as a response to that amazing love. And we are transformed and created new on that journey. The journey is not about the endgame, but about being the body of Christ while we journey together. It is about the love and care we have for each other and the rest of creation.
All of the great stories show us this reality. Homer’s Odyssey, Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, C.S. Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Madeleine L’engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, George Lukas’ Star Wars, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter stories. The hero’s, female and male, in these stories, engage on a journey of transformation, and at one point realize that the death they need to die, is a death to something that gets in the way of their calling. They each must lay down their live in order to take it up again.
Because of our limited human imagination, we think death is an ending. Jesus, the shepherd, shows us that death is just the beginning. It is the beginning of the new creation. It is the beginning of transformation. It is the beginning of being created in God’s image. Death is painful, death is hard, but the promise is that Jesus takes up our life again; Jesus shows us how to do it.
If we are to live this life fully alive, fully aware, fully engaged; if we are to live this life called by our baptism, called by name, marked as Christ’s own forever, we must follow the shepherd to the green pasture, beside the still waters, through the valley of the shadow of death. We must follow the example of the shepherd to die to that which keeps us from ourselves, we must die to that which gets in our way of helping our brother or sister, we must tear down the walls that we build around us that prevent us from seeking and serving Christ in all persons.
And we must rise again to the promise of new life that Jesus shows us.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Today we hear Jesus call us by name, if we are the sheep, and Jesus is the shepherd. In the verses right before these we heard read this morning, Jesus says “the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.” And in our passage, “I know my own and my own know me…they will listen to my voice.” Hear the sound of your name as this one who loves you speaks it. You were called into being before you were born. Your name was spoken at your baptism. You are called to be the person you were created to be, the minister you were created to be. Kathy, follow me, you’ll be fed by green pastures and still waters, I will guide along right pathways, and be by your side through the valley of the shadow of death. I will feed you, and fill you. You have been anointed for the work I call you to do.
Each of us are called by name, often lovingly, sometimes urgently, like the sheep, we seek that voice that calls. Sometimes, we wander far and get caught in the brambles, we get hurt, we break our leg. The radical nature of this shepherd is come back for us. That is the good news of this shepherd. Because shepherds don’t do that. The shepherd pictured on the front of our bulletin today wouldn’t have gone back for the hurt and lost sheep. He would have aided that sheep’s demise, a hurt or lost sheep is a liability to an ordinary sheepherder.
I have mixed feelings about Shepherds. The one’s we see portrayed in artwork often look kind and caring, very pastoral. I’ve heard people say that shepherding is good for people who want to be alone; they don’t really have to talk to anyone except the sheep. Some of the commentary’s say that in Jesus’ time, shepherding was for the miscreants, the dregs, shepherding was a job that was scorned by most. A shepherd had to endure the ravages of heat and cold, the attacks by the wolf and other predators. The shepherd had to keep track of all those sheep. A shepherd’s job was not for the faint of heart.
But you and I are called by name, and this particular shepherd is not like the others. This shepherd says and does something truly radical. “I lay down my life for my sheep. I lay down my life in order to take it up again.” What shepherd does that? Jesus, this shepherd, shows us how to live our lives in the new creation. Jesus leads the way of death and resurrection. Jesus shows us that we don’t live our lives as servants because of our reward now or at the end of time, Jesus shows us that in living our lives fully as new creations, as transformed and transforming people, our daily lives spent in the muck and the mud and the mess, have meaning.
We are loved absolutely and abundantly. Jesus laid down his life; he suffered and was killed, and was resurrected from the dead. We follow the shepherd in laying down our lives and taking it up again as a response to that amazing love. And we are transformed and created new on that journey. The journey is not about the endgame, but about being the body of Christ while we journey together. It is about the love and care we have for each other and the rest of creation.
All of the great stories show us this reality. Homer’s Odyssey, Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, C.S. Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Madeleine L’engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, George Lukas’ Star Wars, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter stories. The hero’s, female and male, in these stories, engage on a journey of transformation, and at one point realize that the death they need to die, is a death to something that gets in the way of their calling. They each must lay down their live in order to take it up again.
Because of our limited human imagination, we think death is an ending. Jesus, the shepherd, shows us that death is just the beginning. It is the beginning of the new creation. It is the beginning of transformation. It is the beginning of being created in God’s image. Death is painful, death is hard, but the promise is that Jesus takes up our life again; Jesus shows us how to do it.
If we are to live this life fully alive, fully aware, fully engaged; if we are to live this life called by our baptism, called by name, marked as Christ’s own forever, we must follow the shepherd to the green pasture, beside the still waters, through the valley of the shadow of death. We must follow the example of the shepherd to die to that which keeps us from ourselves, we must die to that which gets in our way of helping our brother or sister, we must tear down the walls that we build around us that prevent us from seeking and serving Christ in all persons.
And we must rise again to the promise of new life that Jesus shows us.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
3 Easter Yr B
When Tom and Willie were little boys we would love to go to the Science Museum in St. Paul, MN. It was a great museum because you could touch and feel everything. I suppose that means it is designed for kids, but I like it too. There would be boxes that you would put your hand into and touch whatever thing was in it, and try to figure out what it was. Was it soft or hard, hairy or smooth, round, square, oddly shaped, squishy, slimy, all of these were important questions to figuring it out. You couldn’t really learn about the object, or the animal, or the fossil without encountering it, just standing back and looking at stuff not only is boring but doesn’t really register in the learning centers of the brain because you haven’t accessed all the important learning centers, like touch, smell, taste etc.
Jesus seemed to know all this. This story follows right after the Emmaus story. Be known to us in the breaking of the bread. His appearance in this story at the end of Luke, his words touch and see, even having a little fish snack, should bring us right back to the meals he shared with his friends, he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
Appearing to his friends like this, after they watched him die, after they watched him being taken down from the cross, after they watched him being laid in the tomb, must have been so much more than shocking. They thought what they were seeing was an apparition; Jesus had to show them that he wasn’t an apparition, but that he really was Jesus. So he reminds them of what they did together, he reminds them of the meals they shared, he reminds them that each time they bake the bread, each time they combine the wheat, the water, the yeast, each time they smell the bread baking, each time they bless it and break it, they are to remember. Touch and see. Smell and feel. Remember who you are.
Resurrection and resuscitation is not the same thing. This is Jesus that these followers are feeding. It is not a ghost, and it is not some sort of resuscitated Jesus, a Jesus who narrowly escaped a horrific death. This is the resurrected Jesus, the promise and fulfillment of God as revealed in the story of God’s activity in the live of God’s people. We are shocked and surprised. We wish to believe and yet are wary of belief. Resurrection is not about us. Resurrection is about God. Resurrection is about being united with God, being made one, and whole. Resurrection is about being re-membered. Put back together as a new creation. Starting over, starting again, being cleansed, being made new, being made whole. God does all this through this shocking and amazing thing called resurrection. And God begins the new creation with the resurrection of Jesus, and we are participants in the new creation.
Touch and see; the evidence is in front of our eyes if only we put ourselves aside and see the truth. The evidence is in the truth we know and live every day. The evidence is in the seeds that must be buried in the ground and be created new before they can erupt from the ground to become the wheat that becomes the flour that becomes the bread that becomes the body of Jesus broken for us. The evidence is in the transformation of a broken body into a healed body. The evidence is in a life lived in pain and sadness with the constant striving to acquire and have, and the transformation of that life into a life in service to others.
God has begun the new creation in Jesus. God has inaugurated all that God has promised with the resurrection of Jesus. You and I then are participants in the new creation, or the Kingdom of God. There is a moral dimension to resurrection, and it is not about being good in order to go to heaven. If we are in fact re-membered, or put back together as the Kingdom of God, as Jesus’ body was when he appeared to his friends, we have a moral obligation in the here and now. We are called to revere and care for our physical bodies, God will make them new at the resurrection at the fulfillment of time, but what we do with them today bears on being created in God’s image. We are called to revere and care for the earth on which we live, as a living, breathing body that sustains human life as well as animal and plant life. Touch and see.
Another part of the moral obligation is that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in Jesus name to all nations. We are to proclaim repentance and God’s forgiveness. We are to turn back to God, we are to be forgiven for missing the mark, and we are to help others do the same. What an amazing gift we have to give to others. We can help people lay their burdens down. Their burdens of self-criticism, their burdens of greed, their burdens of self-doubt, their burdens of perfection, their burden of not being good enough. All of these burdens which cause us to miss the mark. We can help people see that they are created in God’s image, they are loved absolutely and abundantly, they are the delight of God’s life, and they can turn to God and say, forgive me, and thank you.
Touch and see the new creation. Our call is to show people this reality. Our call is to be witnesses of these things. So how do we go about doing that? Bearing witness to God’s amazing and abundant love for us, as evidenced through the amazing and shocking resurrection, is all about the reality of communion, eating together, and healing. These things we do together are not as a result of our perfection, but are of God’s grace, they are sacraments. And sacraments are an outward sign of an inward reality. We gather together to be sacrament to one another, and we are sent out into the world to witness as sacrament to others.
We gather together and share a meal, a meal of bread and of wine, that are made for us into the broken and resurrected body of Jesus. We are made into a body by the bread and the wine, to witness to a fragmented and broken world of the wholeness and healing that is made possible by the broken and resurrected body of Jesus. What we do here and what we are made into here has everything to do with what we do and who we are at work, at school, and at play. What we do here and what we are made into here make sense only as we go out into the world to bring peace and healing and grace to every aspect of the lives we share with others.
God has already inaugurated the Kingdom, the new creation has begun. Get busy with what God is doing.
Alleluia. The Lord has risen indeed: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Jesus seemed to know all this. This story follows right after the Emmaus story. Be known to us in the breaking of the bread. His appearance in this story at the end of Luke, his words touch and see, even having a little fish snack, should bring us right back to the meals he shared with his friends, he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
Appearing to his friends like this, after they watched him die, after they watched him being taken down from the cross, after they watched him being laid in the tomb, must have been so much more than shocking. They thought what they were seeing was an apparition; Jesus had to show them that he wasn’t an apparition, but that he really was Jesus. So he reminds them of what they did together, he reminds them of the meals they shared, he reminds them that each time they bake the bread, each time they combine the wheat, the water, the yeast, each time they smell the bread baking, each time they bless it and break it, they are to remember. Touch and see. Smell and feel. Remember who you are.
Resurrection and resuscitation is not the same thing. This is Jesus that these followers are feeding. It is not a ghost, and it is not some sort of resuscitated Jesus, a Jesus who narrowly escaped a horrific death. This is the resurrected Jesus, the promise and fulfillment of God as revealed in the story of God’s activity in the live of God’s people. We are shocked and surprised. We wish to believe and yet are wary of belief. Resurrection is not about us. Resurrection is about God. Resurrection is about being united with God, being made one, and whole. Resurrection is about being re-membered. Put back together as a new creation. Starting over, starting again, being cleansed, being made new, being made whole. God does all this through this shocking and amazing thing called resurrection. And God begins the new creation with the resurrection of Jesus, and we are participants in the new creation.
Touch and see; the evidence is in front of our eyes if only we put ourselves aside and see the truth. The evidence is in the truth we know and live every day. The evidence is in the seeds that must be buried in the ground and be created new before they can erupt from the ground to become the wheat that becomes the flour that becomes the bread that becomes the body of Jesus broken for us. The evidence is in the transformation of a broken body into a healed body. The evidence is in a life lived in pain and sadness with the constant striving to acquire and have, and the transformation of that life into a life in service to others.
God has begun the new creation in Jesus. God has inaugurated all that God has promised with the resurrection of Jesus. You and I then are participants in the new creation, or the Kingdom of God. There is a moral dimension to resurrection, and it is not about being good in order to go to heaven. If we are in fact re-membered, or put back together as the Kingdom of God, as Jesus’ body was when he appeared to his friends, we have a moral obligation in the here and now. We are called to revere and care for our physical bodies, God will make them new at the resurrection at the fulfillment of time, but what we do with them today bears on being created in God’s image. We are called to revere and care for the earth on which we live, as a living, breathing body that sustains human life as well as animal and plant life. Touch and see.
Another part of the moral obligation is that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in Jesus name to all nations. We are to proclaim repentance and God’s forgiveness. We are to turn back to God, we are to be forgiven for missing the mark, and we are to help others do the same. What an amazing gift we have to give to others. We can help people lay their burdens down. Their burdens of self-criticism, their burdens of greed, their burdens of self-doubt, their burdens of perfection, their burden of not being good enough. All of these burdens which cause us to miss the mark. We can help people see that they are created in God’s image, they are loved absolutely and abundantly, they are the delight of God’s life, and they can turn to God and say, forgive me, and thank you.
Touch and see the new creation. Our call is to show people this reality. Our call is to be witnesses of these things. So how do we go about doing that? Bearing witness to God’s amazing and abundant love for us, as evidenced through the amazing and shocking resurrection, is all about the reality of communion, eating together, and healing. These things we do together are not as a result of our perfection, but are of God’s grace, they are sacraments. And sacraments are an outward sign of an inward reality. We gather together to be sacrament to one another, and we are sent out into the world to witness as sacrament to others.
We gather together and share a meal, a meal of bread and of wine, that are made for us into the broken and resurrected body of Jesus. We are made into a body by the bread and the wine, to witness to a fragmented and broken world of the wholeness and healing that is made possible by the broken and resurrected body of Jesus. What we do here and what we are made into here has everything to do with what we do and who we are at work, at school, and at play. What we do here and what we are made into here make sense only as we go out into the world to bring peace and healing and grace to every aspect of the lives we share with others.
God has already inaugurated the Kingdom, the new creation has begun. Get busy with what God is doing.
Alleluia. The Lord has risen indeed: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Easter
I have seen the Lord! Mary says to the other disciples and friends. I have seen the Lord! After a night of death and destruction, of sadness and fear, of waiting and crying, Mary delivers this good news. Alleluia. Christ is risen! is the acclamation we shout.
We have walked with Jesus to the cross. We have watched and waited with one another. We have traced our story through the covenants between God and God’s people, the promise shown by the rainbow in the sky, the commandments given by God in the wilderness. We have read about the signs and wonders that point us to Jesus, the Son of God. We have witnessed violence and destruction, pain and sadness. And our journey takes us to this place of hope, this resurrection.
Today, this Easter day, is the inauguration and fulfillment of God’s amazing and abundant love for God’s creation. God has done something absolutely new and amazing, God has freed creation from the bondage of sin and death, God has raised what was dead, God has brought creation back from isolation and sinfulness, God has filled humanity with grace and love.
Jesus begins this new creation that God has promised for each of us. If we but look, we can see the evidence all around us. But like Mary, we sometimes cannot see. Mary saw Jesus standing there before her, but did not know it was Jesus. Remember the story of the monks at the monastery? When they began to look for Jesus among them, when they began to believe in their own value and worth, and divinity, they were transformed. Look for Jesus among us. Look for Jesus in yourselves. God has already begun the transforming work among us. We are Easter people.
The evidence for resurrection is astounding. Where there is death and destruction, where it seems there cannot possibly be new life, new life surprises us. It usually does not come as we expect. Sometimes God does need to knock us upside the head so that we open our eyes to the new life that erupts around us. And always we need to die, we need to die to greed, to selfishness, to control, in order to make room for the absolutely new thing that God has in store for us.
Last Sonshine Saturday we read a story called Hope for the Flowers. It’s about two caterpillars who wish to find the new life that they feel coursing through their bodies, but can’t see. They can’t see it because it takes dying first. But once one of them weaves her cocoon and becomes a beautiful butterfly, her friend also is able to let go of the struggle of getting ahead, getting to the top, getting more, and dying to all that to become the beautiful butterfly he was created to be. This morning, just to remind ourselves of that, we have butterfly kites to take home.
The intensity of Holy Week helps us to shed our skin, to die to getting ahead, getting to the top, getting more. We are able to turn around, set ourselves for resurrection, and for the reality of the death that must precede new life. This is the journey on which we accompany Jesus, and Jesus accompanies us.
Jesus has done the transforming work with his love, on the cross, and in the resurrection. We need to live as Easter people. We need to see each other with transformed eyes. We need to look at one another with the reality that God has already done the work, and each of us is a new creation. A creation that contains the amazing grace that makes each one of us of value and worth, the messiah is one of us; Jesus is one of us, maybe even all of us. Treat each other with extraordinary respect because we are filled with God’s extraordinary love. Treat yourself with extraordinary respect because we are filled with God’s extra extraordinary love.
Something wonderful has happened. God has graciously interrupted our world. God has come into our lives, to call us back into relationship. God has made it possible for us to be transformed, to live in freedom, to be liberated from sin and death. God has made new what once was dead.
To walk in newness of life is all full of verb, of action, of creativity; to create life, to become more than just me, or just you, but to become a body. This is where grace happens. The pain of loss is surpassed by the bliss of love. The suffering of spirit or body is surpassed by the happiness found in relationship; the relationship God calls us into, and the relationship of family, friends, and community. The alienation and isolation of different-ness, is surpassed by the joyfulness of being marvelously made in God’s image.
New life in Christ is the something wonderful that Easter is all about.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed:
Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
We have walked with Jesus to the cross. We have watched and waited with one another. We have traced our story through the covenants between God and God’s people, the promise shown by the rainbow in the sky, the commandments given by God in the wilderness. We have read about the signs and wonders that point us to Jesus, the Son of God. We have witnessed violence and destruction, pain and sadness. And our journey takes us to this place of hope, this resurrection.
Today, this Easter day, is the inauguration and fulfillment of God’s amazing and abundant love for God’s creation. God has done something absolutely new and amazing, God has freed creation from the bondage of sin and death, God has raised what was dead, God has brought creation back from isolation and sinfulness, God has filled humanity with grace and love.
Jesus begins this new creation that God has promised for each of us. If we but look, we can see the evidence all around us. But like Mary, we sometimes cannot see. Mary saw Jesus standing there before her, but did not know it was Jesus. Remember the story of the monks at the monastery? When they began to look for Jesus among them, when they began to believe in their own value and worth, and divinity, they were transformed. Look for Jesus among us. Look for Jesus in yourselves. God has already begun the transforming work among us. We are Easter people.
The evidence for resurrection is astounding. Where there is death and destruction, where it seems there cannot possibly be new life, new life surprises us. It usually does not come as we expect. Sometimes God does need to knock us upside the head so that we open our eyes to the new life that erupts around us. And always we need to die, we need to die to greed, to selfishness, to control, in order to make room for the absolutely new thing that God has in store for us.
Last Sonshine Saturday we read a story called Hope for the Flowers. It’s about two caterpillars who wish to find the new life that they feel coursing through their bodies, but can’t see. They can’t see it because it takes dying first. But once one of them weaves her cocoon and becomes a beautiful butterfly, her friend also is able to let go of the struggle of getting ahead, getting to the top, getting more, and dying to all that to become the beautiful butterfly he was created to be. This morning, just to remind ourselves of that, we have butterfly kites to take home.
The intensity of Holy Week helps us to shed our skin, to die to getting ahead, getting to the top, getting more. We are able to turn around, set ourselves for resurrection, and for the reality of the death that must precede new life. This is the journey on which we accompany Jesus, and Jesus accompanies us.
Jesus has done the transforming work with his love, on the cross, and in the resurrection. We need to live as Easter people. We need to see each other with transformed eyes. We need to look at one another with the reality that God has already done the work, and each of us is a new creation. A creation that contains the amazing grace that makes each one of us of value and worth, the messiah is one of us; Jesus is one of us, maybe even all of us. Treat each other with extraordinary respect because we are filled with God’s extraordinary love. Treat yourself with extraordinary respect because we are filled with God’s extra extraordinary love.
Something wonderful has happened. God has graciously interrupted our world. God has come into our lives, to call us back into relationship. God has made it possible for us to be transformed, to live in freedom, to be liberated from sin and death. God has made new what once was dead.
To walk in newness of life is all full of verb, of action, of creativity; to create life, to become more than just me, or just you, but to become a body. This is where grace happens. The pain of loss is surpassed by the bliss of love. The suffering of spirit or body is surpassed by the happiness found in relationship; the relationship God calls us into, and the relationship of family, friends, and community. The alienation and isolation of different-ness, is surpassed by the joyfulness of being marvelously made in God’s image.
New life in Christ is the something wonderful that Easter is all about.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed:
Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Easter Vigil
Something wonderful has happened. God has graciously interrupted our world. God has come into our lives, to call us back into relationship. God has made it possible for us to be transformed, to live in freedom, to be liberated from sin and death. God has made new what once was dead. Alleluia, Christ is Risen! Is the acclamation we shout to the world.
This is the work that Jesus does. Because God gave up all power to come and live as the powerless, we, you and I, are made new. Because God became one of us, to live, suffer, die, we have new life, we can live a the life we have been created to live.
Tonight, at this Great Vigil, this amazing celebration of resurrection, we remember who we are, and whose we are. We rehearsed the story of God’s activity in the life of God’s people. We remembered creation and blessing, we remembered turning away from God, we remembered being called back to God, we remembered being made a new people, and we remember restoration and resurrection. We give God praise and thanksgiving that we are new, we are transformed, we are free. And we are re-membered, through the gift of the bread and the wine, we are one body, one spirit in Christ.
Tonight we have recommitted ourselves to living a transformed life. Tonight we have promised again to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers. We promised to persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin to repent and return to the Lord. We promised to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. We promised to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. And, we promised to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being. That is a lot to promise and this is an awful lot in one night. But just think about what Jesus accomplished for us in one night.
Because of what Jesus accomplished for us, we are called to live a transformed life, a life that is in among this world, but is no longer slave to sin, but free to be in relationship with God. There is some instruction in our reading from Romans. There we hear, “therefore we have been buried with Jesus by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” This is an ethical admonition. To walk in newness of life. And Romans goes on to say, “We know our old self was crucified with Jesus so the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved.
Lent shows us that Jesus joins us in our suffering and pain, and in our alienation and isolation, and that is what being baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection is. Jesus does not take that away, Jesus joins us in the midst of all of our pain and joy.
Transformation, new life, does not mean the absence of suffering and pain, or the disappearance of being alienated or isolated. Transformation and new life made possible by God living in our midst is about just that, living in this world, with all of its challenges, its difficulties, its injustice, and being able to respond to it creatively.
To walk in newness of life is all full of verb, of action, of creativity. To create life, to become more than just me, or just you, to become a body. This is where grace happens. The pain of loss is surpassed by the bliss of love. The suffering of spirit or body is surpassed by the happiness found in relationship; the relationship God calls us into, and the relationship of family, friends, and community. The alienation and isolation of different-ness, is surpassed by the joyfulness of being marvelously made in God’s image.
New life in Christ is the something wonderful that Easter is all about.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed:
Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
This is the work that Jesus does. Because God gave up all power to come and live as the powerless, we, you and I, are made new. Because God became one of us, to live, suffer, die, we have new life, we can live a the life we have been created to live.
Tonight, at this Great Vigil, this amazing celebration of resurrection, we remember who we are, and whose we are. We rehearsed the story of God’s activity in the life of God’s people. We remembered creation and blessing, we remembered turning away from God, we remembered being called back to God, we remembered being made a new people, and we remember restoration and resurrection. We give God praise and thanksgiving that we are new, we are transformed, we are free. And we are re-membered, through the gift of the bread and the wine, we are one body, one spirit in Christ.
Tonight we have recommitted ourselves to living a transformed life. Tonight we have promised again to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers. We promised to persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin to repent and return to the Lord. We promised to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. We promised to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. And, we promised to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being. That is a lot to promise and this is an awful lot in one night. But just think about what Jesus accomplished for us in one night.
Because of what Jesus accomplished for us, we are called to live a transformed life, a life that is in among this world, but is no longer slave to sin, but free to be in relationship with God. There is some instruction in our reading from Romans. There we hear, “therefore we have been buried with Jesus by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” This is an ethical admonition. To walk in newness of life. And Romans goes on to say, “We know our old self was crucified with Jesus so the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved.
Lent shows us that Jesus joins us in our suffering and pain, and in our alienation and isolation, and that is what being baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection is. Jesus does not take that away, Jesus joins us in the midst of all of our pain and joy.
Transformation, new life, does not mean the absence of suffering and pain, or the disappearance of being alienated or isolated. Transformation and new life made possible by God living in our midst is about just that, living in this world, with all of its challenges, its difficulties, its injustice, and being able to respond to it creatively.
To walk in newness of life is all full of verb, of action, of creativity. To create life, to become more than just me, or just you, to become a body. This is where grace happens. The pain of loss is surpassed by the bliss of love. The suffering of spirit or body is surpassed by the happiness found in relationship; the relationship God calls us into, and the relationship of family, friends, and community. The alienation and isolation of different-ness, is surpassed by the joyfulness of being marvelously made in God’s image.
New life in Christ is the something wonderful that Easter is all about.
Alleluia. The Lord is risen indeed:
Come let us adore him. Alleluia.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Good Friday
On this night we remember. 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 be macabre, 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 the foot washing and holy communion of last evening, even the joyous resurrection we will celebrate together tomorrow evening, doesn’t take away the reality of the muck and mess in which we live. We carry these burdens, 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? I surely hope 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, who has such faith in us, is a God in which I can place my love, my loyalty, my attention.
You see, what Jesus does at this moment is to let evil wreak its fury upon him; he negates its power and takes it out of the world with him. 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. On the cross, Jesus ultimately collects all of the violence of this world, takes it and holds it so that the stream of hate and hurt will flow no farther. Jesus takes in all of our pain and our suffering, all of our betrayal and lies; all of our isolation and sadness, and Jesus contains it. Jesus’ life and death says to our world, it all stops here. It all stops with me.
Jesus’ last words in the gospel story we heard this evening, are “it is finished.” What is it that Jesus accomplished?
Not to take away pain and sorrow and isolation. The reality that you and I know, is that to be human is to feel, to feel pain, to feel joy, to feel isolation, to feel intimacy. And, being human means being born to die, and only a God who is willing to share that can actually help us face our own mortality and that of those we love.
Death is real and grief hurts and sometimes we just have to sit in the silence and cry and wait. The reality of incarnation, the reality of Jesus is that Jesus holds our grief, Jesus contains our pain. Jesus is the vessel in which all of humanity can rest assured in unconditional acceptance. Jesus is the chalice in which our lifeblood is poured. Jesus is the bread that contains the fruit of our sweat. The cross does become the place where transformation is possible.
But for right now though, are left to sit in the silence and cry and wait. We have some experience in this. It is very like when we sit with our loved ones in hospital, as the result of illness or accident, 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 yet, as we sit in the silence to cry and to wait, we sit with this company. The disciples sat together in the silence to cry and to wait. Our only comfort right now resides with one another, with these relationships to each other and to God. Hold one another, grieve with one another, and remember, give one another the gift of hope.
The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him. Amen
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 the foot washing and holy communion of last evening, even the joyous resurrection we will celebrate together tomorrow evening, doesn’t take away the reality of the muck and mess in which we live. We carry these burdens, 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? I surely hope 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, who has such faith in us, is a God in which I can place my love, my loyalty, my attention.
You see, what Jesus does at this moment is to let evil wreak its fury upon him; he negates its power and takes it out of the world with him. 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. On the cross, Jesus ultimately collects all of the violence of this world, takes it and holds it so that the stream of hate and hurt will flow no farther. Jesus takes in all of our pain and our suffering, all of our betrayal and lies; all of our isolation and sadness, and Jesus contains it. Jesus’ life and death says to our world, it all stops here. It all stops with me.
Jesus’ last words in the gospel story we heard this evening, are “it is finished.” What is it that Jesus accomplished?
Not to take away pain and sorrow and isolation. The reality that you and I know, is that to be human is to feel, to feel pain, to feel joy, to feel isolation, to feel intimacy. And, being human means being born to die, and only a God who is willing to share that can actually help us face our own mortality and that of those we love.
Death is real and grief hurts and sometimes we just have to sit in the silence and cry and wait. The reality of incarnation, the reality of Jesus is that Jesus holds our grief, Jesus contains our pain. Jesus is the vessel in which all of humanity can rest assured in unconditional acceptance. Jesus is the chalice in which our lifeblood is poured. Jesus is the bread that contains the fruit of our sweat. The cross does become the place where transformation is possible.
But for right now though, are left to sit in the silence and cry and wait. We have some experience in this. It is very like when we sit with our loved ones in hospital, as the result of illness or accident, 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 yet, as we sit in the silence to cry and to wait, we sit with this company. The disciples sat together in the silence to cry and to wait. Our only comfort right now resides with one another, with these relationships to each other and to God. Hold one another, grieve with one another, and remember, give one another the gift of hope.
The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him. Amen
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Maundy Thursday Yr B
I consider the liturgy of Maundy Thursday a gift. It is a gift of time, and a gift of remembrance. In our hurry up and get the next thing done world, when was the last time you put aside some time to wash someone’s feet? In the skip over the hard stuff because it might hurt world, stopping to remember the incredible sadness of these events seems foolish. Our liturgy invites us into being present, being present to one another as we bare our feet to have them washed, and as we bare our souls to have them cleansed and fed. Stop, and listen. Stop, and serve. Stop, and smell. Stop, and eat.
Jesus’ foot washing is a radical activity. Foot washing was a common practice when guests arrived for a meal, it was an action usually performed by slaves or low-status servants. It was an onerous and demeaning task because it meant washing off human and animal waste. No matter how well a person bathed, sandals and feet inevitably became smelly and dirty in the process of walking to a meal at another's house. And then, particularly here in John, to wash another's feet is to wash away their actions, foot washing is a parting gesture performed by Jesus and urged upon the disciples, they and we must forgive one another as Jesus first forgives, they and we must love one another as Jesus first loves. Peter completely misunderstands that Jesus is talking about discipleship.
The gospel from John tonight concludes with the words, I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Jesus speaks of discipleship in this distinctive way in John, having love for one another. We have heard the stories of the Old Testament all through Lent, the great stories of promise and covenant. What is radically different about this new covenant, this new commandment in the gospel of John, is this aspect of discipleship, love one another.
Jesus, teacher, rabbi, friend, knows that the end is near. In this part of John’s gospel we have event after event of Jesus trying to impart all of his teaching to the disciples, story after story that shows Jesus’ friends what discipleship looks like. Discipleship looks like love and forgiveness, and in the context of 1st century Mediterranean culture, love and forgiveness are radical. It is honor and power that has been valued, Jesus shows something else entirely.
It is a good and right thing to do for us to wash one another’s feet, but it cannot be just symbolic action. It needs to be sacramental, it needs to be an outward sign of an inward reality, it needs to be the way we live our lives in the church and in the world. The hard part about love and forgiveness, the hard thing about discipleship, is that the world we live in does not necessarily reward love and forgiveness. Just look at what happened to Jesus.
The other piece of what we do this night is to celebrate the meal Jesus shared with his disciples, the meal in which he said, do this, for the remembrance of me. Everyone eats, no one goes hungry. When we break bread together, we live in the reality of the radical nature of love and forgiveness. We live in the reality of the radical nature of coming together not for solace only, but also for strength, not for pardon only, but for renewal. The grace that is present in this meal heals us, makes us whole, so that we may go out and show forth God’s love and forgiveness, God’s reconciliation. Something amazing happens, risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread.
Foot washing and Holy Communion, two radical ideas. Washing dirty feet, and eating together with people we may or may not like, people we may or may not agree with. These activities are a sign to the world that something is different; the ways of the world are not the ways of those who follow Christ.
On this night we hear Jesus’ words, do this in remembrance of me. Every time we remember, we bring forward to the present a reality that was lived in the past. Bringing that reality forward makes it real again. This observance of foot washing and Holy Communion brings the reality of what Jesus did to our present, so that the power of who Jesus is is made real. Risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. We not only remember, but we are re-membered, we are put back together, we are made whole.
Stop, and listen. Stop, and serve. Stop, and smell. Stop, and eat.
Jesus’ foot washing is a radical activity. Foot washing was a common practice when guests arrived for a meal, it was an action usually performed by slaves or low-status servants. It was an onerous and demeaning task because it meant washing off human and animal waste. No matter how well a person bathed, sandals and feet inevitably became smelly and dirty in the process of walking to a meal at another's house. And then, particularly here in John, to wash another's feet is to wash away their actions, foot washing is a parting gesture performed by Jesus and urged upon the disciples, they and we must forgive one another as Jesus first forgives, they and we must love one another as Jesus first loves. Peter completely misunderstands that Jesus is talking about discipleship.
The gospel from John tonight concludes with the words, I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Jesus speaks of discipleship in this distinctive way in John, having love for one another. We have heard the stories of the Old Testament all through Lent, the great stories of promise and covenant. What is radically different about this new covenant, this new commandment in the gospel of John, is this aspect of discipleship, love one another.
Jesus, teacher, rabbi, friend, knows that the end is near. In this part of John’s gospel we have event after event of Jesus trying to impart all of his teaching to the disciples, story after story that shows Jesus’ friends what discipleship looks like. Discipleship looks like love and forgiveness, and in the context of 1st century Mediterranean culture, love and forgiveness are radical. It is honor and power that has been valued, Jesus shows something else entirely.
It is a good and right thing to do for us to wash one another’s feet, but it cannot be just symbolic action. It needs to be sacramental, it needs to be an outward sign of an inward reality, it needs to be the way we live our lives in the church and in the world. The hard part about love and forgiveness, the hard thing about discipleship, is that the world we live in does not necessarily reward love and forgiveness. Just look at what happened to Jesus.
The other piece of what we do this night is to celebrate the meal Jesus shared with his disciples, the meal in which he said, do this, for the remembrance of me. Everyone eats, no one goes hungry. When we break bread together, we live in the reality of the radical nature of love and forgiveness. We live in the reality of the radical nature of coming together not for solace only, but also for strength, not for pardon only, but for renewal. The grace that is present in this meal heals us, makes us whole, so that we may go out and show forth God’s love and forgiveness, God’s reconciliation. Something amazing happens, risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread.
Foot washing and Holy Communion, two radical ideas. Washing dirty feet, and eating together with people we may or may not like, people we may or may not agree with. These activities are a sign to the world that something is different; the ways of the world are not the ways of those who follow Christ.
On this night we hear Jesus’ words, do this in remembrance of me. Every time we remember, we bring forward to the present a reality that was lived in the past. Bringing that reality forward makes it real again. This observance of foot washing and Holy Communion brings the reality of what Jesus did to our present, so that the power of who Jesus is is made real. Risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. We not only remember, but we are re-membered, we are put back together, we are made whole.
Stop, and listen. Stop, and serve. Stop, and smell. Stop, and eat.
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