Monthly Archives: April 2017

Peace Be With You!

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A Sermon for 23 April 2017 – 2nd Sunday of Easter

 

A reading from the gospel of John 20:19-31 (NRSV).  And remember, according to the gospel of John’s telling of things, this story takes place the same day Mary Magdalene had been to the tomb then gone and told the others she had seen the Lord.  Listen for God’s word to us.

“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.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

 

Brother Roger was an amazing man.  As a young adult, he founded the ecumenical monastic community of Taizé.  He brought this community into being in France while Europe was again under siege in the Second World War.   At the age of twenty-five, Brother Roger started this intentional community on the Christian principles he tenaciously saw in his grandmother during the First World War:  “welcoming those in need and seeking reconciliation among Christians” (Brother Roger of Taizé:  Essential Writings, “Introduction,” p. 13).  You may know something of the Taizé community from songs in our new Glory to God hymnal.  Songs like “Wait for the Lord” based on Psalm 27.  And “My Soul is at Rest” from Psalm 62.  And the round “Prepare the Way of the Lord,” sung during Advent.  And “Stay with Me,” sung during Lent by our very own choir.  The Good Friday song “Jesus Remember Me, When you come into Your Kingdom.”  And the one that may be best known, but perhaps not linked by all to Taizé:  “Ubi Caritas.  Live in charity and steadfast love.  Live in charity; God will dwell with you.”  . . .  Because worship in the Taizé community is all about peace, the community creates these chant-like, repetitive songs often based on the poetry of the Psalms and other scriptural phrases.  A deep commitment to prayers for all the world pervades the community and its worship.  Perhaps that’s why young people from around the globe still flock to the community in France on pilgrimage to be a part of things – even if only for a week.  When the community gathers for daily worship, scripture and silence weave round the simple songs to transport worshippers to a centered quiet.  That calm clearing inside in which the Spirit of God has an opportunity to work.  If we are able to imagine entering that sacred space daily, perhaps we would expect spiritual profundity, like the kind of deep wisdom that exudes from Brother Roger.  Listen to his words about the presence of Christians in the world today.  He writes:  “The peace of your heart makes life beautiful for those around you.  Being wracked with worry has never been a way of living the gospel.  Founding your faith on torment would mean building a house on sand (Mt. 7:26-27).  At every moment, do you hear these words of Jesus the Christ:  ‘Peace I leave you; my peace I give you.  Let your hearts cease to be troubled and afraid’ (Jn. 14:27)?”  Brother Roger continues:  “This deep-seated peace provides the lightness needed to set out once again, when failure or discouragements weigh on your shoulders” (Ibid., p. 34).

Peace . . .  earlier in the gospel of John – before his resurrection, before his crucifixion, actually right after he washes their feet on that fatal night – Jesus seeks to cultivate peace in his disciples.  He knows what’s about to happen.  And while they don’t understand much of it, certainly they suspected by that time too.  He’s told them already that he will die because of the path he’s following.  AND he’s told them to still their troubled hearts.  Cease any fear!  . . .  At that beautiful final banquet, Jesus prays for his followers.  He does all he can to comfort them.  He wants them to know that “being wracked with worry” is not the way of living the gospel (Ibid.).  He expects the peace of their hearts to make life beautiful for those around them.  . . .

Just as fear is contagious, peace can be as well.  Think about the last time you spent time around someone who was deeply centered.  Not fretting all about, but relaxed in themselves.  Totally calm and attentive only to you.  In their presence, our own blood pressure begins to settle.  We can move more deeply into ourselves.  Breathing all the way into our toes perhaps, because it’s like the fragrance of their peace enters into us.  . . .  That’s the gift Christ seeks to give to his followers.

In the gospel reading before us today, three times Jesus speaks the words:  “Peace be with you!” (Jn. 20:19).  Now, it makes sense that he might start his first appearance among them again with such words.  But after their excitement over him, he says it again:  “Peace be with you!” (Jn. 20:21).  This time sounding a little bit more like a command than a common greeting connoting God’s blessed shalom.  And again he’ll speak the very same words to troubled Thomas when at last Thomas is present among them all and the Risen Christ again returns with the very same message:  “Peace be with you!” (Jn. 20:26).  . . .  It’s helpful for us to know that three is kinda significant in this part of John’s gospel.  You might remember that three times Peter is going to deny Jesus while he’s being held captive.  Then, upon the third time he shows himself to his followers, three times the Risen Christ will ask Peter if Peter indeed loves him.  And here:  three times the Risen Christ commands:  “Peace be with you!”  . . .  Since his first time at the supper telling them he’s leaving his peace with them until now when the Risen Christ comes again among them, their hearts have known everything else but peace.  How could they cease any troubled and fear-filled spirits during his arrest, execution, and burial?  Jesus told them he was leaving his peace with them and after three days of anything but, he returns pleading:  “Peace be with you!”

Think about the powerful witness peace in them would be.  I mean, when they finally left that locked upper room, what would others be wondering to encounter in them such amazing, abiding peace?  Panic would proclaim to others that nothing extraordinary happened after his death.  Fear would confirm the lies others were telling.  Angst never would lead others to waste any time listening.  Peace in them was the only way.  . . .  Peace that everything was not as expected.  Peace that another Way had been made.  Peace that all he said and did was not in vain.  . . .  Peace would flower to change the world all around them.  The peace of their hearts would make life beautiful for them and for rest of the world forevermore.

Let those with ears to hear, heed.  Peace is the gift we’ve been given.  Peace remaining in us forever.  For Christ is risen!  God miraculously made a Way.  Wouldn’t you agree that we could use a little more peace in this world now?  Peace that begins with us.  Peace that reverberates from us to those all around.  Peace:  inner calm, steady trust, quiet strength no matter the headlines that cry for our attention or the chaos that swirls all about.  The world needs peace today – just like the world around Jesus’ disciples needed peace in the days following his crucifixion and resurrection.  Peace that ripples beyond the boundaries of our souls to bring ease to those around us.

Brothers and sisters of the Risen Christ, blessed are all who have come to believe; for the peace of our hearts now makes life beautiful for all and forever.  Sent out abiding in such peace, the whole world will experience our amazing God!

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2017  (All rights reserved.)

Opposing Energies

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A Sermon for 16 April 2017 – Easter Sunday

A reading from the gospel of Matthew 28:1-15.  Listen for God’s word to us.

“After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.  2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.  3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.  4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.  5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.  Come, see the place where he lay.  7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’  This is my message for you.”  8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.  9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!”  And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.  10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”  11 While they were going, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests everything that had happened.  12 After the priests had assembled with the elders, they devised a plan to give a large sum of money to the soldiers, 13 telling them, “You must say, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’  14 If this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.”  15 So they took the money and did as they were directed.  And this story is still told among the Jews to this day.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

If you are here today, you likely have heard this story.  What happens when Sabbath rest is over and the followers of a brutally crucified man go to be with his body.  Few of us have experienced a week quite like theirs.  Those who loved this great teacher, those who followed and took hope from all the words he spoke, those who had seen miraculous things taking place in others and in their very own bodies.  Those who gathered at a festive meal just a few nights early though they did not understand it would be his last.  Those who had the courage to watch what would be done to him and those who scattered in fear as soon as the guard came to Gethsemane to take him away.  All of those whose hearts were crushed when the nails ripped through his flesh and at last the sword pierced his side showing all the world he was, in fact, dead.  A handful of those lovers of that One cannot bear it any longer.  The morning after Sabbath rest is over, they go to see the tomb.

Certainly you’ve heard the story before, though perhaps you’re not familiar with the details unique to the perspectives of the four different authors of the gospels who record the happenings as they had come to know it.  It’s the gospel of John, the latest of our recorded gospels that tells of Mary Magdalene heading off to the tomb alone.  Only to return with news something was amiss, which set off the apostles Peter and John in a foot race to see for themselves just what was going on.  It’s the gospels of Mark and Luke that have a group of women early the morning after Sabbath, taking spices to the tomb to properly tend the broken body of their beloved Lord.  Mark names the women from the start:  Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome; though Luke leaves out that specific detail until the end of the story when the group is named as Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women too.  It’s Mark in which the women wonder together who will roll away the stone for them – as if they hadn’t laid out their anointing plan all that very well.  All the gospels tell of some sort of angelic being – either one or two come to deliver an important message to the woman or women, depending on the version of the story.  In Mark the women flee from the tomb and find themselves too amazed to tell anyone.  In Luke, the apostles believe the women’s words to be an idle tale.  John and Matthew include an appearance of the Risen Christ come to meet Mary Magdalene as it’s told in the gospel of John, and Mary Magdalene and the other Mary too as it’s told in the gospel of Matthew.  And it’s Matthew alone that makes mention of an opposition party at the tomb.  The guards.  Stationed there at the pleading of the religious leaders; for they were worried the disciples might try something tricky like stealing away the body after three days in order to deceive everyone that he had been raised from the dead.  According to Matthew chapter 27, Pilate grants the wish.  Guards are stationed in the graveyard and the stone of the tomb is sealed extra tight so the living cannot get in and the dead cannot get out.

The gospel of Matthew alone is also the one that tries to explain what happens.  How the earth itself shook and a mighty angel of the LORD descended to roll back the stone with ease before hopping up on it in victory to sit in all God’s glory.  Supposedly it all took place right after Mary Magdalene and the other Mary arrived at the tomb – before their very eyes and those of the guard’s as well.  Which leaves us wondering if it ever would have happened had not at least these two followers believed God yet could make the impossible possible.  Matthew doesn’t include a mention of women and spices and the duty of an early morning anointing of a beloved one’s dead body.  He simply states:  “After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb” (Mt. 28:1).  Could it be they believed and had to see for themselves what their Lord had been telling them all along?  . . .  It’s the contrast lifted up by the gospel of Matthew.  As if in these characters of Mary Magdalene, Mary, and the guards of the religious leaders; we see the energies that war within us all.  The parts of us that hope and the parts of us that fear.  The parts of us that dry up like dead men, as the guards do in terror; and the parts of us that hold on to experience the absolutely amazing, as the women do when they nearly knock over the Risen Christ on their excited dash to deliver the incredible news.  It leaves us wondering what role we have to play in God’s resurrecting work.  Are we, as the gospel of Matthew seems to portray, necessary participants in the process?  So that the stirrings in us that something incredible yet can take place are exactly what is needed for new life to have a shot.

A prayer simply titled Common Prayer, could be the summary of the gospel of Matthew’s telling of resurrection possibility.  It goes like this:  “There are only two feelings.  Love and fear.  There are only two languages.  Love and fear.  There are only two activities.  Love and fear.  There are only two motives, two procedures, two frameworks, two results.  Love and fear.  Love and fear.  Love and fear” (Common Prayer, by Leunig.  Quoted in books and speeches by Alan Jones).

According to the gospel of Matthew, there are two energies at the tomb that morning after Sabbath after fear had worked its mighty magic.  The earthquake, the flash of some mystical messenger, the site of an empty tomb.  Does it leave us shaking in fear?  For if this thing which defies human logic actually could be – this Life after death thing really something within the Divine’s reach – then what does it mean for us?  For our dying, even before our physical death; in order to truly Live.  . . .  And if this dying, even before our physical death; in order to truly Live is the Way as shown here in full in Christ; then . . . wow!  We indeed have absolutely nothing to fear.  . . .  With the women, we’re left to fall down in worship before this One.  To open wide our hearts in overflowing love; for the Way of the Living God.  For there are only two feelings.  Two motives.  Two activities.  Two results.  . . .  Because of Easter morning, which one will you choose?

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2017  (All rights reserved.)

The Mark of Discipleship: The Way of Love

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A Sermon for 13 April 2017 – Maundy Thursday

A reading from the gospel of John 13:1-17, 31b-35.  Listen for God’s word to us as we hear the gospel of John’s rendering of Jesus’ last night with his disciples.

“Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father.  Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.  The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him.  And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself.  Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.  He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”  Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”  Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.”  Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”  Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”  Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean.  And you are clean, though not all of you.”  For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.”  After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you?  You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am.  So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.  For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.  Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them.  If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.  . . .

“Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.  If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.  Little children, I am with you only a little longer.  You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, “Where I am going, you cannot come.’  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.’”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

 

Christians all over the world tonight are gathering.  In elaborate cathedrals, simple huts, and sanctuaries much like this.  On Maundy Thursday, we hear the new command given by Christ while he was at table with his disciples the night before his end.  While most tonight will just get a taste of the bread and a sip of the fruit of the vine in remembrance; some actually will sit with their bare feet in a basin.  The pastor or other spiritual leader of the congregation will kneel before them, likely with a pitcher and towel in hand.  Water will be poured.  The worshipper will feel the cool liquid as it hits their feet’s skin.  Soap may accompany the wash and maybe even a relaxing massage to soothe tired toes.  I wish I could be in a place that included a soak with reviving essential oils – a little rosemary and eucalyptus to include all the senses in the defining act.

I don’t know about you, but other than family members when I was a small child and pedicures which don’t really count, only twice in my lifetime have I had my feet washed by another person.  Once was at the beginning of a much needed massage during a pilgrimage in the Holy Land.  Though we didn’t speak the same language, the therapist brought out a basin of warm water and indicated to me to put my feet in it.  She gently stroked my feet with a wash cloth to make sure any dirt from the road was gone.  It was wonderful!  . . .  Another time was in a sanctuary not that far from this one.  The night was Maundy Thursday.  A woman of the congregation who grew up with regular experiences of foot washings in worship, volunteered to wash everyone’s feet that night.  On our way up to communion together around the Table, we could sit down in a chair.  Silently then, the woman would indicate to hold your feet out over the bowl.  She would pour water over them, then reverently wipe dry each foot with a towel.  We all put our shoes back on before proceeding up front to get the bread and the juice, but I really wanted to leave them off.  The act seemed so holy.  Besides:  Moses stood barefoot before the Presence of God in that bush that was aflame but not burning up.  Wouldn’t it be amazing to approach the Table of the Lord clean-footed, nothing between the skin of our feet and the ground right under us?

We’re not including foot washing as a part of this service tonight.  You can relax.  You don’t have to worry that anyone will see that toe you think is ugly or that scar you got from some risky childhood stunt.  Few among us really want to be that known in worship – our bare feet hanging out for all the world to see.  Which is too bad because just hearing about the act that marks this night doesn’t go far enough to communicate the depth of what Christ did.  The humility of bending, touching, smelling through it all.  The intimacy of holding in this hands bare foot after bare foot.  I wonder if he looked deep into each person’s eyes while he washed them.  Maybe smiling as wide as a proud parent when he considered all the places those feet had followed behind him.  Knowing the feet of his disciples had so much further yet to travel to enact God’s good news all around the world.  . . .  This is the act that defines tonight.  The mark of the new command he gives to us all.  The towel and basin still prominent in the room, Jesus says:  “I give you a new commandment that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34).  This is the way all will know you are mine, he proclaims.  Bending, touching, holding tenderly – as if the most precious treasure.  This is the mark of one who bears his name.  That night, that last fate-filled night; Jesus preaches a silent sermon as he bends.  Touches.  Washes them all – including Judas, who, according to the gospel of John, still is in the room.

One commentator claims:  “the mission and strategy of Jesus” is “symbolized in his washing of the disciples’ feet” (Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2, Trygve David Johnson, p. 275).  For “in the washing . . . Jesus chooses to empty himself rather that to promote himself” (Ibid.).  He shows that the path of love is serving another.  Willingly fulfilling all God intends.  . . .  This is the night the church sees in full what it means to be the church, the body of Christ for the world.  The body of Christ willing to stoop in humility to do what others don’t want to do.  To feed those who hunger, visit those who are sick, loose that which is unjust in this world because from a position at his disciples’ feet; this is what our Lord shows us to do.  . . .  Priest and profound author Barbara Brown Taylor writes this about the night Jesus gathered one last time with his friends.  She writes:  “With all the conceptual truths in the universe at his disposal, (Jesus) did not give them something to think about together when he was gone.  Instead, he gave them concrete things to do – specific ways of being together in their bodies – that would go on teaching them what they needed to know when he was no longer around to teach them himself.  . . .  “Do this,” he said, not believe this but do this – “in remembrance of me.’” (An Altar in the World, pp. 43-44).  Taylor insists Christ did so because “the last thing any of us needs is more information about God.  We need the practice of incarnation,” she writes, “by which God saves the lives of those whose intellectual assent has turned as dry as dust, who have run frighteningly low on the bread of life, who are dying to know more God in their bodies.  Not more about God.  More God” (Ibid., p. 45).  Through practices like washing feet.  And taking bread in order to sit down together for a feast of fellowship.  . . .  Christians all over the world tonight are gathering.  In elaborate cathedrals, simple huts, and sanctuaries much like this.  We are seeing the new command given by Christ while he was at table with his disciples the night before his end.  After we partake of the bread and drink of the fruit of the vine, the question remains:  will we go to do likewise?

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2017  (All rights reserved.)

Upheaval

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A Sermon for 9 April 2017 — Palm Sunday

A reading of the entrance into Jerusalem from the gospel of Matthew 21:1-11 (NRSV).  Listen for God’s word to us.

“When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me.  3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’  And he will send them immediately.”  4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,  5 “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”  6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.  8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,  “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest heaven!”  10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?”  11 The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

A reading from the prophet Isaiah 50:4-9a (NRSV).  Listen for God’s word to us.

“The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.  Morning by morning he wakens—wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught.  5 The Lord God has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward.  6 I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.  7 The Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; 8 he who vindicates me is near.  Who will contend with me?  Let us stand up together.  Who are my adversaries?  Let them confront me.  9 It is the Lord God who helps me; who will declare me guilty?”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

 

Upheaval.  If any word sums it all up well today, it is upheaval!  Upheaval in that Jerusalem entry.  Upheaval in the Psalm over God’s steadfast love.  Upheaval from Isaiah for the One who gives his back over to be struck.  Even this service is an upheaval.  Maybe you expected it, but the choir wasn’t up front when we started today.  I read the gospel text for the day right after the opening hymn.  Which in itself was an upheaval, with a procession and all.  Calling us to do something out of the ordinary – particularly for Presbyterians who like to keep things decently and in order, especially in worship!  But the band came by, the palms were waving, and we all were invited to leave the safety of our pews – eek!  To walk around the sanctuary.  Waving palm branches no less???!!!  What an upheaval – getting us to worship before God – at least once a year – with our full body, soul, and spirit!  It’s an upheaval!

It had to feel that way that day.  Like an upheaval!  Down came Jesus, winding along the path on a donkey and a colt, at least according to Matthew’s gospel.  Down he rode that steep slope from the Mount of Olives, east of the city; through Gethsemane and the Kidron Valley, right into the old city gates.  Though we don’t know for sure, it’s likely he entered through the Lion’s Gate.  A road that would have taken this upheaval right past Pilate’s palace on the right and the Temple mount on the left.  All the while, as the gospel of Matthew records it, a throng of people crowded round.  Before and behind him men, women, and children too, I suspect.  They threw down their outer cloaks.  Some cut branches from the trees to involve all creation in an uproarious parade.  As our processional hymn said, we could call them the saints that were marching in.  Running and dancing and celebrating chaotic-like more than marching in in-line like obedient soldiers.  And they shouted:  “Hosanna!  Hosanna to the Son of David!”  Save us!  Words neither appreciated by Rome or the Temple leaders.  All of whom are within earshot.  Son:  of the great King David?  Descending into the city?  Humbly on a donkey and colt, as the prophet Zechariah foretold.  Entering the city as the triumphant King, come to “command peace to the nations;” the prophet wrote.  “His dominion . . . from sea to sea, and from the River (likely the Jordan) to the ends of the earth” (Zech. 9:9-10).  According to the prophet Zechariah, war will be no more once this King arrives.  For domination, control, fear, force-over-another shall not be his way.

Talk about an upheaval!  The gospel records that this first, unruly palm parade left “the whole city . . . in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’” (Mt. 21:10).  One commentator points out that the Greek word used for turmoil literally means to tremble.  Used too of “the earthquakes at Jesus’ final breath upon the cross and at the appearance of the angel at the empty tomb.  The shaking of the earth is associated with the ‘day of the LORD’ and the presence of God” (Audrey West, Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2, p. 157).  The commentator further explains:  “Although the people of Jerusalem do not fully comprehend the significance of Jesus’ arrival, their reaction to him is fitting:  when the Messiah comes, it is an earthshaking event” (Ibid.).  Upheaval.  100% total upheaval to the powers of this world, to entrenched religious ways, to our very lives.  . . .  We can celebrate joyously all we want today.  But before too long, this One will enact in full what he demands of all.  Emptying himself for the sake of Love, he shows us the only path that leads to Life.  With a wink and a smile from that donkey and her colt; he nods:  “Come walk it.  Follow me.”

Upheaval.  Total upheaval.  Because he will not let us claim him Christ, then go on as if nothing much in life really needs to change – like the orientation of our hearts, the direction of our actions, and the will of our desires.  . . .  It takes courage to jump in on his parade, going where the Spirit leads like wind that cannot be controlled.  If we’re brave enough to tag along, we’ll be tossed to and fro through the events that mark this Holy Week.  The joy of today.  The awe of a table on his last night.  The chill of what happens one Friday because of what’s in us that will not tolerate pure Love.  Few of us will keep a fast from sundown Friday until sun-up Sunday morning as some devout followers used to do – and certain traditions today continue yet.  Most of us don’t like that kind of upheaval to our bodies.  Or our schedules.  We’re too busy getting ready for special Easter afternoon feasts to slow down enough Saturday to consider why it is classified as Holy.  . . .  I’ll never forget how the chapel at my college campus marked the week.  Imagine a sanctuary able to seat 3,500 people.  Everyone waving palm branches together one Sunday, only to gather right before sundown the very next Friday.  As we heard the whole story from God’s covenant in the creation of the world, through the enslaved’s liberation, to the waiting and watching and calling back to faithfulness, until at last a baby cried from a Bethlehem animal trough.  He grew.  And taught.  And fed.  And formed.  And angered.  And, for the sake of Love, he would not change his course.  As we sat those Good Fridays in that college sanctuary that naturally darkened as the sun went to bed for the night; at last the paschal candle was snuffed out.  “It is finished,” we heard.  The One on the cross breaths his last to surrender himself in full.  Not an eye was dry as we fumbled through the dark night out of that flame-less sanctuary where a pin drop alone would crash through the stunned silence.  Something about the way those college chaplains did Holy Week for us brought us to the wrenching ache of death.  It was as if the gloom of collective grief hung over campus beginning the night of Good Friday – the night they sent us out in silence into a star-less, dark world.  Can you feel the emotional upheaval deep within?  And who could imagine what it might be like to gather just before morning Sunday.  Outside, still in the dark.  Until, one match is struck.  A new candle lit.  A whisper begins:  “Upheaval!  The forces that obliterate the Light do not have the last say.  The path of Life leads through death.  . . .  Upheaval.  Total upheaval!  For which we will give great thanks!

But first, the turmoil.  First, the last.  First, learning the self-emptying path.  As he heads full force to his death, hear him nod, “come walk it.  Follow me.”

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2017  (All rights reserved.)

“Do You Believe This?”

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A Sermon for 2 April 2017 – Fifth Sunday during Lent

A reading from the gospel of John 11:1-45 (NRSV).  Listen for God’s word to us.

“Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha.  2 Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill.  3 So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.”  4 But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”  5 Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, 6 after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.  7 Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.”  8 The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?”  9 Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight?  Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world.  10 But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.”  11 After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.”  12 The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.”  13 Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep.  14 Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead.  15 For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.  But let us go to him.”  16 Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”  17 When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days.  18 Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, 19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother.  20 When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home.  21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.  22 But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”  23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”  24 Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.”  25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.  Do you believe this?”  27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”  28 When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.”  29 And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him.  30 Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him.  31 The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out.  They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there.  32 When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.  34 He said, “Where have you laid him?”  They said to him, “Lord, come and see.”  35 Jesus began to weep.  36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”  37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”  38 Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb.  It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it.  39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”  Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.”  40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”  41 So they took away the stone.  And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me.  42 I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.”  43 When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth.  Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”  45 Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.

Thanks be to God!

 

Blogger and highly-sought-after speaker Rachel Held Evans quickly is becoming the Millennial voice to the church.  She freely admits she’s a bit older than those born between 1982 and 2000 – the definition of a true Millennial.  But as she personally identifies with many Millennial characteristics, she’s looked to by the church to speak for this missing generation.  To tell us why they do not feel they belong.  In a Work of the People clip called “Creating Something New,” she passionately discusses the death of the church.  She says:  “A lot of people are talking about the death of the church like it’s this big horrible thing.  That we’re on the precipice of doom.  . . .”  She goes on to say:  “We see the numbers changing, at least in North America, and the demographics shifting; and we all freak out.  And say well the church is dying and unless we do all this change then it’s going to die.  And,” and these are Rachel’s words, not mine.  She says:  “And I can’t help but think to myself:  maybe a little death and resurrection is exactly what the church needs right now.”  She says:  “Maybe this means that for Christians in North America we’re learning that Christianity isn’t about empire.  Maybe our empire-building days are over.  And maybe that’s a good thing.  Maybe the church isn’t about power and money and numbers,” Rachel says.  “Maybe being the church is about something else.  And maybe dying to those old ways of doing things is exactly what needs to happen.”  Rachel explains:  “Death is something that empires worry about.  It’s not something gardeners worry about.”  Hear that again:  “Death is something that empires worry about.  It’s not something gardeners worry about.  Death is not something resurrection people worry about.”  Rachel declares:  “If the church in North America needs to die to some of its old ways, then let it die.”  With a wisdom that far exceeds her years, she goes on to remind us.  “Maybe this is just God creating something new.”  As the clip comes to an end, the message flashes across the screen:  “Do not be afraid to die.  Life comes from death!”  (www.theworkofthepeople.com/creating-something-new).

These are the words of an astute disciple of Christ.  A voice that echoes the wisdom declared to the prophet Ezekiel by God about the dry bones that live again.  This is the sentiment of a faithful follower who obviously trusts the One we encounter in the gospel of John.  The One who probes proclaiming:  “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.  Do you believe this?” (John 11:25b-26)  . . .  We’re nearing the culmination of the season of Lent.  Inching closer to the deepest mystery of Christian faith that shows us most clearly what our God is all about.  Life, death, life-again.  It’s a spiral that defies human logic.  A paradox we cannot intellectually figure out.  All we can do is anticipate it.  Pay attention to witness it.  Trust it is true – even when waves of grief over any loss wash over us.  Life.  Death.  Life again – not just someday at what’s perceived to be our end.  But every day all along the path of life.  . . .

This week, the gospel of John takes us to the raising of Lazarus.  Now, I know it’s another extra-long gospel of John reading.  It can be hard to follow it all.  The bottom line is:  Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha – which is the family in whose home Jesus likely stayed on each of his visits to Jerusalem.  After all, Bethany was just outside the city and the gospel never records him actually staying overnight in Jerusalem – except his last night when he was being held as a prisoner.  Well, Lazarus was very, very ill.  So much so that Mary and Martha call for Jesus.  It wasn’t just one of those you best come see your loved one before they are no more calls.  Rather, it was a call for Jesus to come help.  Heal Lazarus from his disease.  Make him well again.  Isn’t that what we all want for our loved ones?  For ourselves?  . . .  We may find it odd that Jesus intentionally stays away once he gets the call.  He had just narrowly escaped the stones of an enraged crowd in Jerusalem.  We can understand a desire to avoid any further conflict.  What we may find difficult to grasp is a plan to stay away – to let his dear friend die.  To know his sisters are filled with distress.  To let the ache of mourning sink all the way into their hearts, before Jesus turns to make the trek back to Bethany.  The writer records the story a bit crassly, as if a high and mighty Jesus had loftier things on his mind than the anchor of sadness that descends when a loved one dies.  He just keeps on telling all with ears to hear that they are about to see the glory of God.  Something better than fixing blind eyes is about to take place.  According to the gospel of John, which is the only gospel that records this miraculous story; the great I AM is in their presence.  The Eternal Word is living in and through Jesus.  One utterance from him – one command like:  let there be – and it is as if the Creator of all speaks again – breathing once more into Lazarus’ lungs.  And out he steps.  Living again – still bound hand and foot in his burial cloth, so that Jesus’ next command is to “unbind him and let him go” (John 11:44).  The Eternal Word brings life out of this death.  He frees Lazarus and all whose hearts had turned heavy at his loss.  He rouses a new beginning in them all.  As if he is a master gardener who trusts that winter must follow the harvest in order for a spring of new life to be.  Jesus might be moved to tears at the tomb of his friend; but he does not fear.  Not even death itself.  He knows that when we go down to the grave, the force of Life, which is God, finds a new way – a new way to push through to create something new.

Here, just a few weeks before all the pageantry of Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter morning; the Scriptures bring us to the story of One about to die who is intent on new life.  . . .  Right after he commands Lazarus to be unbound, the gospel records:  “Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.  But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done.  So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, ‘What are we to do?  This man is performing many signs.  If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.’” (John 11:45-48).  . . .  What a shame to let fear creep in like that.  To deny the cycle that life comes from death so that they would do such a thing as to connive for the One of Life to die.  . . .  It’s a mystery before which we stand.  The great mystery of Christian faith that has the audacity, with sister Martha, to stare I Am right back in the eyes to declare:  “Yes, Lord, we believe!”  We trust the Way:  life, death, life-again.  And while we may not always like it.  While we may ache deeply within at our loss.  While we take great comfort that at Golgotha he experienced in full our despair; we vow to live as those who do not fear.  We keep alert to see the ways in which life comes from death.  After all, maybe it’s just God creating something new.

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2017  (All rights reserved.)