John 14:1-14
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.
And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.
Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
Ok, I’m here to admit it: I am a details person. Are you one, too? It’s a trait that comes in quite handy when cleaning the bathroom but can also drive the people around us a little crazy. We can be what some call a little “obsessive” from time to time. I admit that, too. There are just some things in life that go better when in the hands of a details-oriented person. For example, those of us who tend to give more of our attention to the details of life get a little upset when the details of a story aren’t told correctly: that is, when they don’t match our version of the correct order of things. It’s because we have our own context, our own set of circumstances from which we see the world and our place in it, and we tell our stories from that context. It gives us reason to need the things we need, to want what we want, and to look at the world the way we look at it. Being a member of the details-oriented brigade, I am what some call “high context.” It means that when a story is told, I want to hear and tell as many of the details of the thing as possible. Somehow, that makes the story better, more plausible, and easier to understand for me. Fewer details only leave me with more questions: why? How? When? Who was there? What did they say? How did they seem to feel about what happened?
Have you ever had that problem of telling a story along with someone else and they tell some detail or event of the story “wrong”? I think the sharing of our faith story is often like that. Just get 2 people together and ask them to tell the chronology as we have it in the New Testament of how Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion took place, and you’ll likely get 2 stories that have basically similar timelines but with a variety of side stories and characters thrown in here and there. We do this because we often connect with certain moments or characters that are told in one gospel differently than another. For example, many folks are particularly moved by the Centurion whose eyes are opened as Jesus dies on the cross and who proclaims that Jesus surely must have been the Son of God. This man is mentioned in Matthew and Luke, but only in Matthew does he call Jesus the Son of God.
One of the details of the story of Jesus’ last supper as it is recorded in John in the chapter just before our passage for today is the conversation he has with the disciples about his betrayal. He tells them what will happen with Judas and with Peter, that he’ll be betrayed and denied by two of these gathered around the table with him. It’s difficult for them to hear these words that seem to be counter to the closeness they have developed over their life in ministry together. How could any of them turn his back on Jesus? And how could it all be coming to and end? This is the context for these verses we have for today: Jesus is preparing them for his departure, and they cannot accept that he is leaving them. Peter even asks where it is Jesus is going, but Jesus’ response is cryptic and a little frightening when he says they cannot follow him immediately but in the future. So when Jesus says that he is the way, the truth, and the life, we can begin to understand the reference back to his conversation with the 12 at the last supper when he has taught them about love and service—that they should consider themselves servants of all people in his name. This teaching helps us to know that the way of Christ is the way of service, the truth of the gospel is that we are called above all else to love one another in the name of Jesus, and that real life is the sharing of one another’s burdens and joys and serving one another in the name of Jesus.
But really to put these details into perspective, we must consider the introduction to John that sets the tone for the whole gospel. There we find not the birth narrative of Jesus but the emphasis on Jesus’ divinity as the Son of God, the light of the world sent to bring light into our darkness, received not by the people to who he was sent, but the true revelation of God in our world. In this way, we can add to the understanding of John 14 by seeing that when Jesus says he is the way, the truth, and the life, we must refer back to the words of the gospel writer when he first introduces us to Jesus: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us…full of grace and truth.” God came to us, to live as we live, so that we could learn to love and serve in the way that God loves and serves. That is the truth of what Jesus came to teach us; that is the way to get close to the heart of God.
But that really isn’t enough detail for me. I think we have to look at the whole message of the gospel, even the whole Bible, which as I read it is a rich story of the history of God’s love being given freely to us over and over. Look at our disastrous ancestors of the Old Testament who turn away from God over and over again, whose love for God failed time and time again, and then remember the God of the Old Testament who has every opportunity and then some to discard human beings on account of our fickleness and self-absorption but who decides, instead, to remain steadfastly in love with us and continue to invite us back into forgiveness and grace. That must be the way, the truth, and the real life that God has to offer, now to us in Christ.
But what about the details of how this passage plays a role in your own spirituality or theology? Your own understanding of God and God’s action in your life? Thinking about the context of the 14th chapter of John, the whole gospel of John, the whole Biblical witness, and your own faith experience, how would you tell John 14?
Here’s how I would do it:
There is nothing at all to fear in life because Jesus has shown us that God is with us always. In fact, there is no place we can go that would take us away from God. Jesus was and is God’s gift to us so that we could understand the way that God relates to us—a humble presence of love and service, teaching us to offer the same to the world around us in God’s name with the help of the Holy Spirit whom Jesus has sent to be our help and guide. We don’t need a picture of God to know what God is like; that’s why we have Jesus and the portrait of him painted for us in the biblical witness. There we find his life, death, and resurrection told in terms of his love for us. So the way to God’s heart is to be ready and willing, as Peter states in the previous chapter and Jesus, himself, states in the next chapter, to give up what you hold dear in life so that someone else can have fullness of life. The truth is that God loves us more than we could ever imagine, and that while we may not be able to make contact with that understanding while we continue to live self-absorbed lives, believing the love and mercy of Christ is the way God has offered to us to try and connect with God’s love and God’s intentions for our lives. And when we can make that connection, we can live out that love and mercy with others, making God’s plan for us become a reality—that we would figure out that what God wants is for us to treat each other with love and respect, to serve one another’s needs, and to make God’s love known to as many people as we possibly can as far as it depends on us.
And there it is: our call to spread the news. But what is it that we spread? The more exclusive version of this story that, frankly, leaves out too many details for me to ever accept? The one in which there is a bit of proof-texting involved in trying to use God’s love in poured out in Christ to keep people out rather than to draw as many as we can in? I believe it is, instead, the message of how God’s love in Christ gives us the very best way to live our lives in service to one another, the truth that God truly does love us more than we could ever imagine—and that means all of us! —and the life that we can experience in hopeful expectation that God’s love will ultimately reign over all the parameters we try to put around it, such as who really deserves it and who doesn’t.
I don’t think we can tell the story in any other way except in high context: the whole story of God’s love for us, the remarkable presence of God among us in Jesus, the call to believe and share the news that because of Christ and his resurrection we cannot ever be separated from God, and that God’s love for us surpasses all things that we can think of to put in its path.
I think that’s a witness of John 14 that the world needs to hear. How will you tell it?
Amen.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Easter 4
This sermon will be given this morning to a congregation where I am the guest preacher.
Acts 2:42-47
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
If we could bottle that last little bit of this passage and sell it, no church would ever have a money or attendance or volunteer crisis ever again! If only we could come up with a plan that would work in this church, at St. Paul, at the many, many churches who are threatened by bills that pile up with not enough support to keep the doors open—a plan that would not only keep our doors open but would also open those doors to the people that the Lord is just waiting to add to our numbers—to all those in whom God’s prevenient grace has been at work all their lives long, and who are now on their way to us in churches everywhere, who may even be here for the first time today.
Yes, if only we knew the secret, the thing to do to get the Lord to add to our numbers. Like in the old days, when things were really good. All of us have those days we remember, to which we travel in our minds when we fear that life in the community of faith has grown stagnant. “Those were the days—when we were brimming over with children, when the youth were all over the place, when there were families spilling into the aisles, when we had activities every night of the week, when things were really alive!” If you’ve ever been part of a church for more than a few years, you’ve probably said these words to yourself once or twice.
And people have made programs, seminars, and money off our memories of what it used to be like. The truth is, there are people out there who have figured out how to make money by teaching us their method of how to add to our numbers in churches across the world. Only I wonder if we look in every place we can find except the way it really was way back when, and by way back when, I mean in the good old, old days of the church: right after Peter’s sermon in Jerusalem on Pentecost.
Think back to that great sermon—when Peter stood before the large crowd of people gathered for a holy purpose. They had miraculously heard about God’s deeds of power in words they each understood although they were from places all over the known world. And then, to continue to describe the power of God, Peter paints for us the first directory portrait of the church: thousands of people so moved by the words of Peter’s mouth that they were baptized, claimed by God as forgiven, and added to the names of all those who call on the name of God for salvation.
Thousands of people were never the same after that day. What they did was start the Church, a church where thousands and thousands of people were saved, as John Wesley says in his commentary on the New Testament “from their sins; from the guilt and power of them.” People were discovering that there was a new way of life to be lived—a life lived in forgiveness, a life of repentance, a live shared together with other believers, a life of abundance in that no one ever needed anything that the body of Christ couldn’t provide, a life of faith in the one whom God had sent and had raised from the dead. They held everything in common, especially their belief and trust in God.
What did they do to add to their numbers? It’s easier than an expensive program, and more basic that many of our church consultants, and maybe all the things we’ve tried over and over in the name of church growth. Here’s what they did:
• They devoted themselves to the teaching of the disciples, which Jesus had commanded them to do.
• They devoted themselves to fellowship, to spending time together getting to know one another and being there for one another in their hours of need.
• They devoted themselves to the breaking of bread, the meals shared for the remembrance of Christ as he had shared with them just before his arrest.
• They prayed together.
• They shared each other’s lives.
• The shared everything they had.
• They sold what they had and gave what they made to those who needed money, again, following the teachings of Jesus as the apostles must have shown them.
• The praised God daily in their homes.
• They concerned themselves with the goodwill of all, or with how the lives of the community around them were—difficult or easy—and pledged themselves to ease the difficulties and celebrate with the joys people experienced in the life of the community.
And God added to their numbers, so they had to get more chairs, build bigger buildings, wear nametags, ask for names every time they got together, and burst with pride at how they were growing.
So, here in the book of the Acts of the Apostles is a free-of-charge plan for growing the church:
• Teaching the faith with integrity to children, youth, and adults—how do you teach here?
• Spending time together for the purpose of getting to know everyone—not just the folks you already know—so that whenever there is a need of any kind, the whole congregation will want to respond.
• Have Holy Communion together as often as you can, and be present at the Lord’s Table. Encourage one another to come, and delight in receiving the bread and the cup in each other’s presence as Christ did with his disciples.
• Pray. Pray in your homes, but pray also together—and not just in worship! Pray in small and large groups. Meet together for the sole purpose of praying together for the needs of the body of Christ.
• Share. Share not only your material possessions and your money, but share also when someone needs your support or, in some cases, accountability.
• When the things you accumulate in your life take away from attending to the body of Christ, then get rid of them. And any profit you make should come back to the body. The very idea of our United Methodist Apportionments is based on the idea of the body of Christ sharing the load of serving the needs of the world.
• Praise God all the time, even at home.
And I think in the time and culture in which we now live, this last thing might just be the most important:
• Be concerned about the good of the community in which you live and thrive. Be so concerned, in fact, that you lose interest in the building up of your own life in favor of the building up of the lives of others. Somewhere in there you’ll discover what Jesus meant when he said that those who want to save their lives must lose them.
So, that’s it. Easy as pie. Most of us in most churches are already doing these things—some, most, or even almost all of them. But it was when they checked off the whole list that God added to their number every day. It is, then, our task as members of the body of Christ gathered in every place, to figure out what it is that we need to work on. Which of these things are you doing well here? I suspect you fellowship and teach and pray well! What else are you doing that is good? What do you need to work on?
It’s easy to read or hear this story outside the context of the hard work and hours of laboring that the earliest members of the Church were putting in and to think that it sounds rosy and sweet and then to dismiss it and say, “Well, the world is different now.” Certainly it is, but human need is not different. Prayer is not different. Sharing with others is not different. And the power of God to re-member and continue to build the body of Christ is not different. God is as powerful as ever. Christ’s call is as compelling as it has ever been. The urging of the Spirit in our hearts is as strong now as it ever has been to be faithful to how we began this thing we do; this life we live called “Church” in the first place.
It doesn’t cost us any money. Christ has saved us from having to pay our own way and given us grace to turn around and give to the world, not as the world gives, but as the Church gives: with all things in common, with the goodwill of the people first in our hearts, with praise to God for helping us see the new lives that can be changed by the work we do together.
So, my brothers and sisters, now we have the list. Now we know the secret. It’s been right here in the book of Acts all the time. It is our task to call on the Spirit’s power within us to have the courage to live life together as the earliest Christians did, to whom God was faithful and who showed us that it has nothing to do with what buildings or programs we have. God will bring people to us in salvation; that is God’s work. It’s what we do for and with them next that is up to us! May the many lives that will come through these doors and halls and through your lives be richly blessed by your commitment to bringing to life once again the caring, saving, forgiving, graceful Body of Christ.
Amen.
Acts 2:42-47
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
If we could bottle that last little bit of this passage and sell it, no church would ever have a money or attendance or volunteer crisis ever again! If only we could come up with a plan that would work in this church, at St. Paul, at the many, many churches who are threatened by bills that pile up with not enough support to keep the doors open—a plan that would not only keep our doors open but would also open those doors to the people that the Lord is just waiting to add to our numbers—to all those in whom God’s prevenient grace has been at work all their lives long, and who are now on their way to us in churches everywhere, who may even be here for the first time today.
Yes, if only we knew the secret, the thing to do to get the Lord to add to our numbers. Like in the old days, when things were really good. All of us have those days we remember, to which we travel in our minds when we fear that life in the community of faith has grown stagnant. “Those were the days—when we were brimming over with children, when the youth were all over the place, when there were families spilling into the aisles, when we had activities every night of the week, when things were really alive!” If you’ve ever been part of a church for more than a few years, you’ve probably said these words to yourself once or twice.
And people have made programs, seminars, and money off our memories of what it used to be like. The truth is, there are people out there who have figured out how to make money by teaching us their method of how to add to our numbers in churches across the world. Only I wonder if we look in every place we can find except the way it really was way back when, and by way back when, I mean in the good old, old days of the church: right after Peter’s sermon in Jerusalem on Pentecost.
Think back to that great sermon—when Peter stood before the large crowd of people gathered for a holy purpose. They had miraculously heard about God’s deeds of power in words they each understood although they were from places all over the known world. And then, to continue to describe the power of God, Peter paints for us the first directory portrait of the church: thousands of people so moved by the words of Peter’s mouth that they were baptized, claimed by God as forgiven, and added to the names of all those who call on the name of God for salvation.
Thousands of people were never the same after that day. What they did was start the Church, a church where thousands and thousands of people were saved, as John Wesley says in his commentary on the New Testament “from their sins; from the guilt and power of them.” People were discovering that there was a new way of life to be lived—a life lived in forgiveness, a life of repentance, a live shared together with other believers, a life of abundance in that no one ever needed anything that the body of Christ couldn’t provide, a life of faith in the one whom God had sent and had raised from the dead. They held everything in common, especially their belief and trust in God.
What did they do to add to their numbers? It’s easier than an expensive program, and more basic that many of our church consultants, and maybe all the things we’ve tried over and over in the name of church growth. Here’s what they did:
• They devoted themselves to the teaching of the disciples, which Jesus had commanded them to do.
• They devoted themselves to fellowship, to spending time together getting to know one another and being there for one another in their hours of need.
• They devoted themselves to the breaking of bread, the meals shared for the remembrance of Christ as he had shared with them just before his arrest.
• They prayed together.
• They shared each other’s lives.
• The shared everything they had.
• They sold what they had and gave what they made to those who needed money, again, following the teachings of Jesus as the apostles must have shown them.
• The praised God daily in their homes.
• They concerned themselves with the goodwill of all, or with how the lives of the community around them were—difficult or easy—and pledged themselves to ease the difficulties and celebrate with the joys people experienced in the life of the community.
And God added to their numbers, so they had to get more chairs, build bigger buildings, wear nametags, ask for names every time they got together, and burst with pride at how they were growing.
So, here in the book of the Acts of the Apostles is a free-of-charge plan for growing the church:
• Teaching the faith with integrity to children, youth, and adults—how do you teach here?
• Spending time together for the purpose of getting to know everyone—not just the folks you already know—so that whenever there is a need of any kind, the whole congregation will want to respond.
• Have Holy Communion together as often as you can, and be present at the Lord’s Table. Encourage one another to come, and delight in receiving the bread and the cup in each other’s presence as Christ did with his disciples.
• Pray. Pray in your homes, but pray also together—and not just in worship! Pray in small and large groups. Meet together for the sole purpose of praying together for the needs of the body of Christ.
• Share. Share not only your material possessions and your money, but share also when someone needs your support or, in some cases, accountability.
• When the things you accumulate in your life take away from attending to the body of Christ, then get rid of them. And any profit you make should come back to the body. The very idea of our United Methodist Apportionments is based on the idea of the body of Christ sharing the load of serving the needs of the world.
• Praise God all the time, even at home.
And I think in the time and culture in which we now live, this last thing might just be the most important:
• Be concerned about the good of the community in which you live and thrive. Be so concerned, in fact, that you lose interest in the building up of your own life in favor of the building up of the lives of others. Somewhere in there you’ll discover what Jesus meant when he said that those who want to save their lives must lose them.
So, that’s it. Easy as pie. Most of us in most churches are already doing these things—some, most, or even almost all of them. But it was when they checked off the whole list that God added to their number every day. It is, then, our task as members of the body of Christ gathered in every place, to figure out what it is that we need to work on. Which of these things are you doing well here? I suspect you fellowship and teach and pray well! What else are you doing that is good? What do you need to work on?
It’s easy to read or hear this story outside the context of the hard work and hours of laboring that the earliest members of the Church were putting in and to think that it sounds rosy and sweet and then to dismiss it and say, “Well, the world is different now.” Certainly it is, but human need is not different. Prayer is not different. Sharing with others is not different. And the power of God to re-member and continue to build the body of Christ is not different. God is as powerful as ever. Christ’s call is as compelling as it has ever been. The urging of the Spirit in our hearts is as strong now as it ever has been to be faithful to how we began this thing we do; this life we live called “Church” in the first place.
It doesn’t cost us any money. Christ has saved us from having to pay our own way and given us grace to turn around and give to the world, not as the world gives, but as the Church gives: with all things in common, with the goodwill of the people first in our hearts, with praise to God for helping us see the new lives that can be changed by the work we do together.
So, my brothers and sisters, now we have the list. Now we know the secret. It’s been right here in the book of Acts all the time. It is our task to call on the Spirit’s power within us to have the courage to live life together as the earliest Christians did, to whom God was faithful and who showed us that it has nothing to do with what buildings or programs we have. God will bring people to us in salvation; that is God’s work. It’s what we do for and with them next that is up to us! May the many lives that will come through these doors and halls and through your lives be richly blessed by your commitment to bringing to life once again the caring, saving, forgiving, graceful Body of Christ.
Amen.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Easter 3
Luke 24:13-49
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
In one of his stories about Lake Woebegone, Garrison Keeler once spoke of the days off from school that students and teachers get as “Easter break.” The context was the weather in Minnesota, and he said that they continued to call the days off in the spring “Easter break” because the word Easter refers to the Christian tradition of believing in things hoped for but not yet seen. It’s hardly spring in Minnesota in early April, according to Mr. Keeler. Having never been there, I’ll have to take his word for it.
Hebrews 11:1 defines faith for us. The old King James version of the Bible uses these words: “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” It is what our faith tradition is built upon—the sincere hope for, or assurance (as other translations of the Bible call it) of things hoped for but not yet seen. Our faith story is filled with this kind of thing—the promise of our brother Moses to the Israelites that they would get to the promised land, finally knowing that he would never live there; the courage of our brother Samuel to answer when the Lord called though he could not see God when God called; the face of Christ turned toward Jerusalem when all he could see there was anger and destruction, not yet the empty tomb; the prophecy of our brother Martin who, 40 years ago, saw a vision of today, when people of all races would have what would be something resembling more equality in live and rights than had ever been known in this country before; our own encounters with the living Christ, the Holy Spirit, and the Almighty God that we can neither explain nor photograph—our faith is an assurance of life hoped for but not yet seen.
I believe that the best understanding we as human beings can ever have of what resurrection feels and looks like is that thing we do after we have lost a loved one. You know what I mean—we get together in groups of 2 or 3 or 15 and share memories and stories of time and experiences we have shared. This so often happens around a table at a meal. We tell our favorite stories—the ones that make us laugh out loud or cry a tear of remembrance and joy for the one who has died. But in those precious moments of remembrance, when we are laughing and wiping away tears of remembrance, for me it is as if the one who has gone away has returned, but in a different and now unchangeable way.
Dave and I have his grandmother’s dining room suit in our home. It contains a china cabinet, a buffet, and a table with 6 chairs. It is the same table where I sat in November 6 years ago and hurriedly wrote down my thoughts to put them together into a sermon and service of death and resurrection for Daddy Howard—that’s Dave’s grandfather—when he died very suddenly of an aortic aneurism before we could even get over to Birmingham after we got the call that he had been taken to the hospital. But whenever we remember a funny story about him or admire one of his many admirable characteristics, I feel his presence in a way that is different than when he had a physical body and would sit around that table and tell me for the 5th or 6th time how he met Geraldine, Dave’s grandmother. It’s an eternal presence now that doesn’t leave when Christmas is over. He’s just there. And when I sit down there to share a meal with other folks now that he’s gone, he’s still there.
Not long ago I was sitting there with my mother, father, husband, sister, and her fiancé and realized that at the same table I had prepared to say good bye to one family member and hello to another. Around that piece of wood with legs, and in those chairs with old chair bottoms that need to be replaced, many important family moments have been shared. It is as if our home cannot contain all the lives represented at that table.
But the kingdom of God can. The reign of God in Christ and by the Holy Spirit brings us into communion with one another in the breaking of bread. When we eat together, when we feed together, when we receive nourishment from one another, when we come here empty and leave full, or when we come here full and leave empty of the things that crowd God out, when we embrace new little ones like Adelaide and her family and say to them that there are places set for them at the table of the family of God—in those holy moments, he is made known to us. And not in a way that recalls the past but in a way that sets our own faces and lives toward the future.
What does his presence make known to us? What about the future do you have hope for with no real visible sign that it has yet or will come to pass? What problems do you hold on to, just knowing that if you work on them hard enough you’ll be able to fix them yourself? What table fellowship draws you into the fellowship of God? If you do not have a table where the presence of Christ and all those who have gone before us is made known to you, then hear today the invitation to the Lord’s table, where all who desire to be known are invited to gather, where the body of blood of Christ are eternally offered to us without price or manipulation, where the holy scriptures are revealed to us, where we come together from places of difference and sometimes struggle, where the entire family of God at one time can join together in communion with the presence of Christ, in the mysterious way that only Christ can do.
In the breaking of bread. In the sharing. In the prayers. In the revelation of scripture. In the tears of joy and remembrance we show to one another. In the hand offered to one who needs help. In the arm held around the child who’s not sure what to do. In the Holy Spirit who moves us from our comfortable seat in this room to be humbled and celebrate the extraordinary love and presence of Christ that is now unchanging.
What Cleopas and his friend told the others was that Jesus was with them, that they didn’t know it at first, but that he was there at the table, in the breaking of bread. It’s what we do here all the time, friends—break bread in the name and presence of Christ. I invite you to let him be made known to you today in bread and cup. Let him be with you, reveal things to you, make your heart burn for desire of his presence, and lead you with the guidance of the Holy Spirit to go and tell others whom you have known.
Taste and see the goodness of the Lord. Amen.
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
In one of his stories about Lake Woebegone, Garrison Keeler once spoke of the days off from school that students and teachers get as “Easter break.” The context was the weather in Minnesota, and he said that they continued to call the days off in the spring “Easter break” because the word Easter refers to the Christian tradition of believing in things hoped for but not yet seen. It’s hardly spring in Minnesota in early April, according to Mr. Keeler. Having never been there, I’ll have to take his word for it.
Hebrews 11:1 defines faith for us. The old King James version of the Bible uses these words: “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” It is what our faith tradition is built upon—the sincere hope for, or assurance (as other translations of the Bible call it) of things hoped for but not yet seen. Our faith story is filled with this kind of thing—the promise of our brother Moses to the Israelites that they would get to the promised land, finally knowing that he would never live there; the courage of our brother Samuel to answer when the Lord called though he could not see God when God called; the face of Christ turned toward Jerusalem when all he could see there was anger and destruction, not yet the empty tomb; the prophecy of our brother Martin who, 40 years ago, saw a vision of today, when people of all races would have what would be something resembling more equality in live and rights than had ever been known in this country before; our own encounters with the living Christ, the Holy Spirit, and the Almighty God that we can neither explain nor photograph—our faith is an assurance of life hoped for but not yet seen.
I believe that the best understanding we as human beings can ever have of what resurrection feels and looks like is that thing we do after we have lost a loved one. You know what I mean—we get together in groups of 2 or 3 or 15 and share memories and stories of time and experiences we have shared. This so often happens around a table at a meal. We tell our favorite stories—the ones that make us laugh out loud or cry a tear of remembrance and joy for the one who has died. But in those precious moments of remembrance, when we are laughing and wiping away tears of remembrance, for me it is as if the one who has gone away has returned, but in a different and now unchangeable way.
Dave and I have his grandmother’s dining room suit in our home. It contains a china cabinet, a buffet, and a table with 6 chairs. It is the same table where I sat in November 6 years ago and hurriedly wrote down my thoughts to put them together into a sermon and service of death and resurrection for Daddy Howard—that’s Dave’s grandfather—when he died very suddenly of an aortic aneurism before we could even get over to Birmingham after we got the call that he had been taken to the hospital. But whenever we remember a funny story about him or admire one of his many admirable characteristics, I feel his presence in a way that is different than when he had a physical body and would sit around that table and tell me for the 5th or 6th time how he met Geraldine, Dave’s grandmother. It’s an eternal presence now that doesn’t leave when Christmas is over. He’s just there. And when I sit down there to share a meal with other folks now that he’s gone, he’s still there.
Not long ago I was sitting there with my mother, father, husband, sister, and her fiancé and realized that at the same table I had prepared to say good bye to one family member and hello to another. Around that piece of wood with legs, and in those chairs with old chair bottoms that need to be replaced, many important family moments have been shared. It is as if our home cannot contain all the lives represented at that table.
But the kingdom of God can. The reign of God in Christ and by the Holy Spirit brings us into communion with one another in the breaking of bread. When we eat together, when we feed together, when we receive nourishment from one another, when we come here empty and leave full, or when we come here full and leave empty of the things that crowd God out, when we embrace new little ones like Adelaide and her family and say to them that there are places set for them at the table of the family of God—in those holy moments, he is made known to us. And not in a way that recalls the past but in a way that sets our own faces and lives toward the future.
What does his presence make known to us? What about the future do you have hope for with no real visible sign that it has yet or will come to pass? What problems do you hold on to, just knowing that if you work on them hard enough you’ll be able to fix them yourself? What table fellowship draws you into the fellowship of God? If you do not have a table where the presence of Christ and all those who have gone before us is made known to you, then hear today the invitation to the Lord’s table, where all who desire to be known are invited to gather, where the body of blood of Christ are eternally offered to us without price or manipulation, where the holy scriptures are revealed to us, where we come together from places of difference and sometimes struggle, where the entire family of God at one time can join together in communion with the presence of Christ, in the mysterious way that only Christ can do.
In the breaking of bread. In the sharing. In the prayers. In the revelation of scripture. In the tears of joy and remembrance we show to one another. In the hand offered to one who needs help. In the arm held around the child who’s not sure what to do. In the Holy Spirit who moves us from our comfortable seat in this room to be humbled and celebrate the extraordinary love and presence of Christ that is now unchanging.
What Cleopas and his friend told the others was that Jesus was with them, that they didn’t know it at first, but that he was there at the table, in the breaking of bread. It’s what we do here all the time, friends—break bread in the name and presence of Christ. I invite you to let him be made known to you today in bread and cup. Let him be with you, reveal things to you, make your heart burn for desire of his presence, and lead you with the guidance of the Holy Spirit to go and tell others whom you have known.
Taste and see the goodness of the Lord. Amen.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Easter 2
John 20:19-31
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Recently, while visiting with my parents, their phone rang. My dad went to answer it while my mom explained to us that they get telemarketing calls add day long. When my dad came back from the phone, he explained with a glimmer in his eye which one had just called. “They were offering something for senior citizens,” he said, “...ages 40-85!” Senior citizens? Age 40? How many of us today are senior citizens today based on this newest age label? If you’re not there yet, you’re now closer than you’ve ever been before! I’m hoping my dad just heard the telemarketer wrong; but it got my attention.
There is something important to us about labels. As much as we may protest, we kinda thrive on assigning them to others and living into them if we are really honest with ourselves and each other. And now we find ourselves in the midst of preparation for a general election, probably the most important one of recent history. Labels are being tossed around, sometimes even thrown at one candidate or another--by the candidates themselves as well as the media and we, the consumers of this election. Liberal, conservative. Experienced, inexperienced. Ready, not ready. Mature, young. Black, female, old. There are times when our labels for ourselves and each other seem to take over our identities and turn us into a list of characteristics or a lithmus test of core beliefs and/or practices.
Or maybe it’s what we do. I saw a short story on CNN recently about a woman who had been labeled a hero because she became a kidney donor for a customer she met at the Starbucks where she is a barista. “One morning,” she said, “the customer came in and looked like something was wrong. Since she came in every day, I felt like I had a good enough repore with her to ask what was wrong. She came out and said that she needed a kidney transplant, so I said I wanted to get tested.” She was a match; now she’s a hero.
Labels: they tell the world who we are. And it’s not really new to us. People have been doing this in every generation since the beginning of time. It happens throughout the biblical story--take poor old Thomas, the disciples who gets top billing in today’s story. He’s called both Thomas “the twin” and “doubting” Thomas. We know him by the reputation he has for throwing a wet blanket on the interesting things that happen with Jesus in John’s gospel. In John 11, when the discover that Lazarus is at death’s door and Jesus considers returning to Bethany (which is a neighboring community to Jerusalem), the disciples warn Jesus that they should not go back there because the last time he was in Jerusalem he was nearly stoned over some comments he made at the Temple, claiming that he and God are one. If they go to Bethany, surely the ones from Jerusalem who meant to kill him before will get another chance. And Thomas, with his flair for the dramatic, says, “Yeah, let’s all go, and we can all die together!”
Then in John 14, when Jesus is offering words of comfort to the disciples as a follow up to a difficult events of chapter 13 in which Jesus tells them that he’ll be betrayed by them, Jesus begins to paint a picture for them of the enormous house of God in which there is and will be room for them all. And what does Thomas say? “We’ll never find it on our own.”
We can begin to see why the label “doubter” has stuck.
But I think it is precisely that identity of doubt that we use to characterize Thomas that makes him such a powerful witness to the risen Lord. If you think about it, the doubt he shows at the second gathering of the church of the disciples after the resurrection is founded in real human emotion and experience. It you compare Jesus’ first appearance to them the week before with the one in which Thomas is present, he does not ask to experience anything that the other disciples have not already experienced. The first time, Jesus showed the disciples his hands and side. Why can’t Thomas ask about it? Maybe it’s not doubt but inquisitiveness and impetuousness that we find in Thomas. Maybe there is something about him that we find to be counter to the characteristics we deem appropriate for disciples: he asks too many questions, he has too many opinions, he doesn’t seem to really get what Jesus says, he’s a downer.
But without the story of Thomas, we might not be sitting here today.
I think the best label we can give to Thomas is “witness.” He is a witness--eyes, mind, heart, and soul--to the risen Christ. Without his story, and the stories of the others who saw him in that liminal time between the resurrection and the ascension, what faith would we have today? What reason would we have to believe anything? What hope would we ever have in the midst of the tragedies we live with from day to day? How would we believe that the impossible is somehow possible?
We need witnesses today. We need folks who will take on that label with pride and tell the world that all things which seem like they’ll never happen become reality, like the end of the war in Iraq, the end of the hell that has come to pass in Darfur, the imbalance of us throwing away food we can’t squeeze into our full stomachs while children and adults in other parts of the world beg for enough food to keep their stomachs pain-free for a few hours, and then tell other people about it. We need people whose lives have been changed by the power of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit and the forgiveness offered to us in Christ to stand up and say it out loud so that the ones who think their lives will be horrible forever, who feel completely alone, who are convinced that they will never be worth forgiveness for the things they’ve done--those people can find some peace, rest, and joy in their lives. We need doubters, who can’t possibly understand how it could be true but who are, at the same time utterly convinced that it is, to share how their doubt has been turned into belief. We need witnesses so that the people who have not seen that kind of amazing thing in their own lives can come to believe that it can happen for them, too. That God is that good. That Jesus matters. That the Spirit is a constant companion. That what we do here every Sunday, every 7th day, behind these closed doors, is welcome the risen Christ who enters without our ever knowing how or where, but who speaks peace to us.
We need witnesses. The stories of Mary, the disciples, and Thomas let us know that it is true--he rose from the dead. He is risen, indeed. We are witnesses to what we have seen in our own lives, so that those who have not yet seen God’s presence and the difference it makes will come to believe. The church is called to continue the story of Christ’s resurrection in the lives of its members and friends. We are called to continue the life of the body of Christ in our own bodies, spirits, energies, and commitments.
If you’re not yet convinced, just hold on for a few more minutes and get your bulletins ready to sing and respond to Elliott Warner. He needs us to tell him the story of Thomas, that this stuff we say and pray and do together is real and that it matters. And today, we promise that we will do that with the way we live our lives, with being his teachers and supporters as he grows and learns and makes mistakes, and becomes the young, middle-aged, and senior citizen God has called him to be! (Maybe by the time he’s finishing college he’ll be applying for AARP!)
What would it take in your life for the people around you outside of this place to label you a “witness” to this faith? What kind of questions do you need to ask of Christ? How will you talk about your experience of God with others in a way that leads them to belief where they have not yet seen? And today, how will you back up the promises we make to Elliott, the promises made to his parents in their baptism to which they respond today by bringing their child for the same promises of witness?
Doubting. Quiet. Silly. Exuberant. Unusual. 4Faithful. Witness. May we be called all of these things and much, much worse, my friends, for the sake of our Lord and our God!
Amen.
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Recently, while visiting with my parents, their phone rang. My dad went to answer it while my mom explained to us that they get telemarketing calls add day long. When my dad came back from the phone, he explained with a glimmer in his eye which one had just called. “They were offering something for senior citizens,” he said, “...ages 40-85!” Senior citizens? Age 40? How many of us today are senior citizens today based on this newest age label? If you’re not there yet, you’re now closer than you’ve ever been before! I’m hoping my dad just heard the telemarketer wrong; but it got my attention.
There is something important to us about labels. As much as we may protest, we kinda thrive on assigning them to others and living into them if we are really honest with ourselves and each other. And now we find ourselves in the midst of preparation for a general election, probably the most important one of recent history. Labels are being tossed around, sometimes even thrown at one candidate or another--by the candidates themselves as well as the media and we, the consumers of this election. Liberal, conservative. Experienced, inexperienced. Ready, not ready. Mature, young. Black, female, old. There are times when our labels for ourselves and each other seem to take over our identities and turn us into a list of characteristics or a lithmus test of core beliefs and/or practices.
Or maybe it’s what we do. I saw a short story on CNN recently about a woman who had been labeled a hero because she became a kidney donor for a customer she met at the Starbucks where she is a barista. “One morning,” she said, “the customer came in and looked like something was wrong. Since she came in every day, I felt like I had a good enough repore with her to ask what was wrong. She came out and said that she needed a kidney transplant, so I said I wanted to get tested.” She was a match; now she’s a hero.
Labels: they tell the world who we are. And it’s not really new to us. People have been doing this in every generation since the beginning of time. It happens throughout the biblical story--take poor old Thomas, the disciples who gets top billing in today’s story. He’s called both Thomas “the twin” and “doubting” Thomas. We know him by the reputation he has for throwing a wet blanket on the interesting things that happen with Jesus in John’s gospel. In John 11, when the discover that Lazarus is at death’s door and Jesus considers returning to Bethany (which is a neighboring community to Jerusalem), the disciples warn Jesus that they should not go back there because the last time he was in Jerusalem he was nearly stoned over some comments he made at the Temple, claiming that he and God are one. If they go to Bethany, surely the ones from Jerusalem who meant to kill him before will get another chance. And Thomas, with his flair for the dramatic, says, “Yeah, let’s all go, and we can all die together!”
Then in John 14, when Jesus is offering words of comfort to the disciples as a follow up to a difficult events of chapter 13 in which Jesus tells them that he’ll be betrayed by them, Jesus begins to paint a picture for them of the enormous house of God in which there is and will be room for them all. And what does Thomas say? “We’ll never find it on our own.”
We can begin to see why the label “doubter” has stuck.
But I think it is precisely that identity of doubt that we use to characterize Thomas that makes him such a powerful witness to the risen Lord. If you think about it, the doubt he shows at the second gathering of the church of the disciples after the resurrection is founded in real human emotion and experience. It you compare Jesus’ first appearance to them the week before with the one in which Thomas is present, he does not ask to experience anything that the other disciples have not already experienced. The first time, Jesus showed the disciples his hands and side. Why can’t Thomas ask about it? Maybe it’s not doubt but inquisitiveness and impetuousness that we find in Thomas. Maybe there is something about him that we find to be counter to the characteristics we deem appropriate for disciples: he asks too many questions, he has too many opinions, he doesn’t seem to really get what Jesus says, he’s a downer.
But without the story of Thomas, we might not be sitting here today.
I think the best label we can give to Thomas is “witness.” He is a witness--eyes, mind, heart, and soul--to the risen Christ. Without his story, and the stories of the others who saw him in that liminal time between the resurrection and the ascension, what faith would we have today? What reason would we have to believe anything? What hope would we ever have in the midst of the tragedies we live with from day to day? How would we believe that the impossible is somehow possible?
We need witnesses today. We need folks who will take on that label with pride and tell the world that all things which seem like they’ll never happen become reality, like the end of the war in Iraq, the end of the hell that has come to pass in Darfur, the imbalance of us throwing away food we can’t squeeze into our full stomachs while children and adults in other parts of the world beg for enough food to keep their stomachs pain-free for a few hours, and then tell other people about it. We need people whose lives have been changed by the power of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit and the forgiveness offered to us in Christ to stand up and say it out loud so that the ones who think their lives will be horrible forever, who feel completely alone, who are convinced that they will never be worth forgiveness for the things they’ve done--those people can find some peace, rest, and joy in their lives. We need doubters, who can’t possibly understand how it could be true but who are, at the same time utterly convinced that it is, to share how their doubt has been turned into belief. We need witnesses so that the people who have not seen that kind of amazing thing in their own lives can come to believe that it can happen for them, too. That God is that good. That Jesus matters. That the Spirit is a constant companion. That what we do here every Sunday, every 7th day, behind these closed doors, is welcome the risen Christ who enters without our ever knowing how or where, but who speaks peace to us.
We need witnesses. The stories of Mary, the disciples, and Thomas let us know that it is true--he rose from the dead. He is risen, indeed. We are witnesses to what we have seen in our own lives, so that those who have not yet seen God’s presence and the difference it makes will come to believe. The church is called to continue the story of Christ’s resurrection in the lives of its members and friends. We are called to continue the life of the body of Christ in our own bodies, spirits, energies, and commitments.
If you’re not yet convinced, just hold on for a few more minutes and get your bulletins ready to sing and respond to Elliott Warner. He needs us to tell him the story of Thomas, that this stuff we say and pray and do together is real and that it matters. And today, we promise that we will do that with the way we live our lives, with being his teachers and supporters as he grows and learns and makes mistakes, and becomes the young, middle-aged, and senior citizen God has called him to be! (Maybe by the time he’s finishing college he’ll be applying for AARP!)
What would it take in your life for the people around you outside of this place to label you a “witness” to this faith? What kind of questions do you need to ask of Christ? How will you talk about your experience of God with others in a way that leads them to belief where they have not yet seen? And today, how will you back up the promises we make to Elliott, the promises made to his parents in their baptism to which they respond today by bringing their child for the same promises of witness?
Doubting. Quiet. Silly. Exuberant. Unusual. 4Faithful. Witness. May we be called all of these things and much, much worse, my friends, for the sake of our Lord and our God!
Amen.
Easter
So, I had to write this one by hand because of a computer issue. It was good, actually. And when I finally typed it into my file, it felt like it was more of a poem than prose. So, here you go.
John 20:1-18
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
I am so glad that Lent is over and that today is Easter that I am going to begin with a joke:
[I do not know the origin of this joke.]
How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?
Charismatic: Only one. Hands already in the air.
Pentecostals: Ten. One to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.
Presbyterians: None. Lights will go off and on at predestined times.
Roman Catholic: None. Candles only.
Baptists: At least 15. One to change the light bulb and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad.
Episcopalians: Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old bulb was.
Mormons: Five. One man to change the bulb and four wives to tell him how to do it.
Unitarians: We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, that is fine. You are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service, in which we will explore a number of light bulb traditions including incandescent, fluorescent, three-way, long-life and tinted, all of which are equally valid paths to luminescence.
Methodists: Undetermined. Whether your light bulb is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb or tulip bulb. A church-wide lighting service is planned for Sunday. Bring a bulb of your choice and a covered dish.
Nazarene: Six. One woman to replace the bulb while five men review the church lighting policy.
Lutherans: None. Lutherans don't believe in change.
Amish: What's a light bulb?
Regardless of how we do it,
on this day we gather
in the name of the one who transforms our grief
into new life.
And it all started—
this whole thing,
this faith we claim,
this liturgy we do together,
this belief that draws every single one of us here today—
it all started with a word:
her name, “Mary.”
I always imagine the story the same way:
the two Marys show up;
they have a job to do.
They think they know how it will all go down;
then they encounter a surprise!
Startled from their grief,
their eyes—swollen
from sobbing for 3 days—
are suddenly wide open.
He’s gone.
It’s kind of a funny way
to begin a message:
silence.
It must have been the setting:
utter silence.
Jaws dropped.
Eyes popping out.
Voice unable to speak at first.
Then feet hitting the ground hard,
as hard as a heart pounding.
Breath rushing in and out,
like something overwhelmingly tragic
and unbelievably wonderful
had happened.
But which was it?
Out of tribal loyalty and concern,
Mary goes to the 12,
and Peter goes back to the tomb
with her,
along with the un-named one.
Peter’s silence is deafening.
It’s like a silent movie at this point:
lots of action, no lines whatsoever.
In the silence,
Mary begins to cry.
Nothing but tears
for what feels like forever.
It’s gone from unbelievably awful…
to worse.
Now his body is gone.
“We were afraid something like this would happen”—
the words are all over her face,
and Peter’s
as he runs away.
The angels aren’t much help at first.
They do break the silence:
“What’s the matter with you, honey?”
And then the gardener:
“What’s the matter, ma’am?”
And then Jesus becomes recognizable:
“Mary!”
The beginning of all this—
this celebration,
this creed,
these hymns,
this cross,
our new clothes,
this sacred text—
it all started for us with a word,
a summons into the light;
he was made known to her
in the breaking of her misery!
Many of you may be rejoicing today
that the season of Lent is over!
(Hooray!)
Many of you may be rejoicing today
at the reunion of family and loved ones.
Many of you may be rejoicing today
that Spring is upon us,
and yesterday was a perfect Spring day.
Mary rejoices today
because her story begins here:
in the garden,
at the sound of her name.
John is the only gospel to tell this story.
In it I hear a foretaste
of the Pentecost story
we’ll encounter in 50 days:
each one hearing the deeds of power
God has done
in a language she or he can understand.
A familiar voice to start a revolution:
“Mary!”
“Susan!”
“Kevin!”
“Brenda!”
“Teresa!”
“Lou!”
“Marcus!”
“Bryan!”
“Laura!”
It’s your story today:
of sorrow over what was in your life,
of despair over what your future appears to be,
of weeping over what you may have lost,
of anger over not knowing or being in control of
even the corpse
of what has gone wrong for you.
It’s you there in the garden,
with God’s witnesses bringing you hope—
what you have lost is not here.
Your life,
your hope,
your resurrection is here!
Because you have been here,
you have seen the body of Christ—
redeemed by his blood,
made known
as the body calls you out
to love and serve the Lord.
Go to our brothers and sisters,
and tell them that God has done this,
that the end you grieve for is not the end,
that there is hope alive in the world
beyond our understanding.
Christ is risen, he is risen indeed!
Thanks be to God. Amen.
John 20:1-18
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
I am so glad that Lent is over and that today is Easter that I am going to begin with a joke:
[I do not know the origin of this joke.]
How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?
Charismatic: Only one. Hands already in the air.
Pentecostals: Ten. One to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.
Presbyterians: None. Lights will go off and on at predestined times.
Roman Catholic: None. Candles only.
Baptists: At least 15. One to change the light bulb and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad.
Episcopalians: Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old bulb was.
Mormons: Five. One man to change the bulb and four wives to tell him how to do it.
Unitarians: We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, that is fine. You are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service, in which we will explore a number of light bulb traditions including incandescent, fluorescent, three-way, long-life and tinted, all of which are equally valid paths to luminescence.
Methodists: Undetermined. Whether your light bulb is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb or tulip bulb. A church-wide lighting service is planned for Sunday. Bring a bulb of your choice and a covered dish.
Nazarene: Six. One woman to replace the bulb while five men review the church lighting policy.
Lutherans: None. Lutherans don't believe in change.
Amish: What's a light bulb?
Regardless of how we do it,
on this day we gather
in the name of the one who transforms our grief
into new life.
And it all started—
this whole thing,
this faith we claim,
this liturgy we do together,
this belief that draws every single one of us here today—
it all started with a word:
her name, “Mary.”
I always imagine the story the same way:
the two Marys show up;
they have a job to do.
They think they know how it will all go down;
then they encounter a surprise!
Startled from their grief,
their eyes—swollen
from sobbing for 3 days—
are suddenly wide open.
He’s gone.
It’s kind of a funny way
to begin a message:
silence.
It must have been the setting:
utter silence.
Jaws dropped.
Eyes popping out.
Voice unable to speak at first.
Then feet hitting the ground hard,
as hard as a heart pounding.
Breath rushing in and out,
like something overwhelmingly tragic
and unbelievably wonderful
had happened.
But which was it?
Out of tribal loyalty and concern,
Mary goes to the 12,
and Peter goes back to the tomb
with her,
along with the un-named one.
Peter’s silence is deafening.
It’s like a silent movie at this point:
lots of action, no lines whatsoever.
In the silence,
Mary begins to cry.
Nothing but tears
for what feels like forever.
It’s gone from unbelievably awful…
to worse.
Now his body is gone.
“We were afraid something like this would happen”—
the words are all over her face,
and Peter’s
as he runs away.
The angels aren’t much help at first.
They do break the silence:
“What’s the matter with you, honey?”
And then the gardener:
“What’s the matter, ma’am?”
And then Jesus becomes recognizable:
“Mary!”
The beginning of all this—
this celebration,
this creed,
these hymns,
this cross,
our new clothes,
this sacred text—
it all started for us with a word,
a summons into the light;
he was made known to her
in the breaking of her misery!
Many of you may be rejoicing today
that the season of Lent is over!
(Hooray!)
Many of you may be rejoicing today
at the reunion of family and loved ones.
Many of you may be rejoicing today
that Spring is upon us,
and yesterday was a perfect Spring day.
Mary rejoices today
because her story begins here:
in the garden,
at the sound of her name.
John is the only gospel to tell this story.
In it I hear a foretaste
of the Pentecost story
we’ll encounter in 50 days:
each one hearing the deeds of power
God has done
in a language she or he can understand.
A familiar voice to start a revolution:
“Mary!”
“Susan!”
“Kevin!”
“Brenda!”
“Teresa!”
“Lou!”
“Marcus!”
“Bryan!”
“Laura!”
It’s your story today:
of sorrow over what was in your life,
of despair over what your future appears to be,
of weeping over what you may have lost,
of anger over not knowing or being in control of
even the corpse
of what has gone wrong for you.
It’s you there in the garden,
with God’s witnesses bringing you hope—
what you have lost is not here.
Your life,
your hope,
your resurrection is here!
Because you have been here,
you have seen the body of Christ—
redeemed by his blood,
made known
as the body calls you out
to love and serve the Lord.
Go to our brothers and sisters,
and tell them that God has done this,
that the end you grieve for is not the end,
that there is hope alive in the world
beyond our understanding.
Christ is risen, he is risen indeed!
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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