Come, Holy Spirit! Break open our hearts with love for each other.

Good morning.  As some of you might recall, I was with you last year on this Sunday of the Memorial Day weekend, which last year was the sixth Sunday of Easter.  Here we are again on this weekend that we remember people who have died in service of country… and this year we’re also celebrating the ‘birthday of the church’ – the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. 

The two occasions have a couple of things in common.  1) They’re both occasions that aren’t observed with the intentionality and focus they deserve.  If we take these days ‘to heart’, they change how we appreciate our common life together. And, 2) both days encourage communal reflection on self-sacrifice in service of the whole.  Both days go against the tide of individualism.  Pentecost specifically pushes toward new life together as diverse yet interdependent parts in one shared body. 

First, let’s remind ourselves of the original intent of Memorial Day.

MEMORIAL DAY

First observed as a ritual of remembrance and reconciliation in the latter part of the 19^th Century to honor fallen Confederate and Union soldiers following the Civil War, it was originally known as Decoration Day.  By the late 1960’s it had become a federal holiday and within a few years it was officially set to be honored nationally every final Monday of May.  For many people now it’s simply become a marker of the ending of the academic term, the unofficial beginning of summer, a day off, a weekend of car races and family vacations.  For others, however, it will always represent something more deeply personal and challenging – a memory and reality of mixed emotions about war, duty, honor, and country.  At its heart, it’s about honoring self-sacrifice in service of a communal good.

On Memorial Day, we’re to honor the millions of women and men who have dutifully given their lives defending and protecting our country’s liberty and freedom in an earthly sense. 

Tomorrow, as a nation, we observe in solemn reverence remembrance of our valiant dead.   Indeed, “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command.” (John 15:12-14)

And, this particular year, these Memorial Day sentiments should only momentarily eclipse an even bigger, fiery Feast of Pentecost, during which we’re called to embrace a holy gift from God, given for our continued protection and guidance following the ascension of the one who died for all the nations of the world – Jesus Christ.

From life-giving to life-saving.  We began in ashes at Lent… we’re now being brought to new life with fire.

PENTECOST

Today, in a nation under God, as a church gathered in Christ’s name, we’re to celebrate new life – spiritual liberty and freedom – that has been given to us collectively (as the church) through the coming of the Holy Spirit after the death, resurrection, and ascension of our Christ Jesus.

Our Jewish ancestors observed Pentecost (which means ‘fiftieth day’) first as a harvest festival fifty days after the Passover.  It was an occasion of giving thanks for the first fruits of the harvest (also called Feast of Weeks or Shavout) – not focused on thanking the laborers, but on being thankful for the bounty from God.  Post the agrarian age, it becomes more of a celebration of God’s gift of the law (torah).  Jews from all over the area would have converged on Jerusalem for this festival celebration. 

So, we can imagine that along with the faithful followers of Jesus who were waiting further signs from their messiah who had just ascended, there were people from all over the region gathering in Jerusalem, coming from different places and speaking different languages and dialects.  It’s into this diverse gathering – amid confusion, expectancy, joy, and fear - that the Holy Spirit comes as spiritual fire and inspirational wind.

Granted, if we’re honest, just like many of us neglect the opportunity of Memorial Day and instead of indulge in pursuits of self-interest and recreation, many of us have domesticated Pentecost into a whimsical tale of a one-time event long ago that brings an annual splash of color into the church as we flip the fabrics from white to green.

In truth, however, the Holy Spirit is saying to us as God’s people that the birthing of Christ’s church is still in process and that we’re invited into this holy labor and all its starts, stops, pains, hopes, and expectancy.  As our early Christians ancestors were in years past, we are to serve in this age as Christ’s hands and hearts, midwifing the birth of a church (and kingdom) that the Spirit is still bringing into being.

This brings me to a parable that I invite us to consider as we contrast some of what’s called ‘church’ today with the awe-inspiring cacophony of Pentecost’s life-giving potential. This story has been called the “Parable of the Lifesaving Station.”  Has anyone here heard this?  Listen and consider the potential of the Holy Spirit at work as well as the perils when we attempt to domesticate it.

Parable of the Lifesaving Station

On a dangerous seacoast where shipwrecks often occur, there was once a crude little life-saving station. The building was just a hut, and there was only one boat, but the few devoted members kept a constant watch over the sea, and with no thought for themselves went out day and night tirelessly searching for those who were lost. Some of those who were saved and various others in the surrounding area wanted to become associated with the station and gave of their time, money, and effort to support its work. New boats were bought and new crews trained. The little lifesaving station grew.

Some of the members of the lifesaving station were unhappy that the building was so crude and poorly equipped. They felt that a more comfortable place should be provided as the first refuge of those saved from the sea. They replaced the emergency cots with beds and put better furniture in the enlarged building.

Now the lifesaving station became a popular gathering place for its members, and they decorated it beautifully because they used it as a sort of club. Fewer members were now interested in going to sea on life-saving missions, so they hired lifeboat crews to do this work. The lifesaving motif still prevailed in the club’s decorations, and there was a liturgical lifeboat in the room where the club’s initiations were held.

About this time a large ship wrecked off the coast, and the hired crews brought in boatloads of cold, wet, and half-drowned people. They were dirty and sick. The beautiful new club was in chaos. So the property committee immediately had a shower house built outside the club where victims of shipwrecks could be cleaned up before coming inside.

At the next meeting, there was a split among the club membership. Most of the members wanted to stop the club’s lifesaving activities as being unpleasant and a hindrance to the normal social life of the club. Some members insisted upon life-saving as their primary purpose and pointed out that they were still called a life-saving station. But they were finally voted down and told that if they wanted to save the lives of all the various kinds of people who were shipwrecked in those waters, they could begin their own lifesaving station. So they did.

As the years went by, the new station experienced the same changes that had occurred in the old. It evolved into a club, and yet another lifesaving station was founded. History continued to repeat itself, and if you visit that seacoast today, you will find a number of exclusive clubs along that shore. Shipwrecks are frequent in those waters, but most of the people drown. 

I read that this parable was written in 1953 by The Rev. Dr. Theodore O. Wedel, who was ordained an Episcopal priest in 1931, served as Canon of the Washington National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., and also served for a time as president of the Episcopal Church's House of Deputies. (http://www.ecfvp.org/vestrypapers/death-and-resurrection/parable-of-the-lifesaving-station/)

What does this story have to do with the lessons we’ve heard this Pentecost morning and what the Spirit continues to say to God’s people?

We are called to look around us and consider what kind of church we’ve built vs. what kinds of missions we continue to help birth.  Are organized for ‘club maintaining’ or are we gathered for life-saving.  Lord knows the waters remain perilous and rough out there and real life-saving missions are not undertaken in vain. 

And, for these life-saving missions, we’ve been given the paraclete of God to serve as our advocate, counselor, and comforter – a Spirit alongside us for help. 

The Psalmist says, “You send forth your Spirit, and they are created; and so you renew the face of the earth.” (Psalm 104:31)

The author of Acts says that “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting” such that they were thrust out beyond their safe room into the streets where they began to speak after tongues of fire rested upon them. (Acts 2:1-4)

Paul says, “We know that all creation is still groaning and is in pain, like a woman about to give birth. The Spirit makes us sure about what we will be in the future. But now we groan silently, while we wait for God to show that we are his children… And this hope is what saves us…. In certain ways we are weak, but the Spirit is here to help us. For example, when we don’t know what to pray for, the Spirit prays for us in ways that cannot be put into words. All of our thoughts are known to God…. the Spirit prays for God’s people.” (Romans 8:22-24, 26-27, Contemporary English Version)

Jesus says earlier in the Gospel of John, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments [to love one another and Jesus has loved us]…. I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.  This is the Spirit of truth… You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you (among you).” (John 14:15, 16-17)

What do you say?  Have you experienced the Holy Spirit alongside and within you?  Where are you in this Spirit-driven mission?  Are you in need of life-saving?  Are you committed to the saving of lives? 

Today is a day to invite the Spirit to bring cleansing fire upon our business of busyness, to strike us with awe, and to breathe new life into us as people gathered in Christ’s name.

Let us pray.

God, before we remember tomorrow those who gave their lives for our country, we remember today that you gave the life of your only son for the entire world.  And, after His death and resurrection, before He ascended back you, He promised us the gift of your Holy Spirit.

Indeed, today we remember that your Spirit came to us, and continues to come to us to burn away barriers that separate us from each other and inspiring us in new ways of connecting with each other so that we might understand as well as be understood as a new community, as diverse living members of the one body that you intend for us to become.  Grant us the patience and endurance for this work.

Continue to break our hearts for what breaks yours.  Help us not to fall into comfortable complacency in clubhouses while so many of our neighbors are in need of mission-driven life-saving stations. 

Come, Holy Spirit! 

Take our tongues and speak through them in ways that others can understand.  Take our hands and work through them to continue redeeming the world.  Take our hearts and set them on fire with new love for each other. Strengthen our resolve to follow the command of God’s love incarnate, to love each other even more than we love ourselves, loving our neighbors as Jesus would have us to love them. 

AMEN. 

Not selected, but sanctified for mission

This is the last Sunday of our Easter season.  Christ has risen.  Christ has reassured us.  Christ has now ascended into heaven.  Next Sunday we will celebrate the arrival of the gift that Christ promised us – the coming to us of the Holy Spirit (our advocate, counselor, helper, and comforter) at Pentecost, remembered in our tradition as the ‘birth of the church.’

This morning, we’re hearing about sanctified succession – the holy hand-offs, if you will, of God’s mission to Jesus, from Jesus to his followers (including us) and from one follower to another. 

Today’s Gospel lesson (John 17:6-19) is a continuation of John’s telling about the last night that Jesus was with his disciples before he was handed over to death – before his resurrection and ascension, and before the coming of his gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.  Jesus began by washing their feet, he broke bread with them, instructed them in many things and commanded them to love others as he has loved them, and now he’s praying for them (and for us) for protection, unity, consecration, and joy.  He reminds them that while they ultimately do not belong to this world (we belong to God’s kingdom), they are to work and witness in this world.

Today’s first lesson (Acts 1:15-17,21-26) speaks of Joseph called Barsabbas (‘son of the Sabbath’) also known as Justus.  What came of this guy, one of the two considered to assume the twelfth seat among the disciples, the seat left vacant by Judas?  By seeming random chance, he wasn’t the one chosen for this special position.  The twelfth seat among the named disciples in the inner circle went to Mathias instead.  Was Barsabbas bitter that he ‘lost’ out?  What did he do with the rest of his life?  Did he continue in the apostles teaching and the breaking of bread?  What was his mission?  Does it matter that we hear nothing else from him in the Scriptures? (note: church tradition says that he went on to become a bishop in Roman Palestine was eventually martyred)  

In fact, when you think about, we don’t hear much about most of disciples and followers.  And yet we know that it was their steadfast faith and courage that enabled the early church to grow and continue in Christ’s name.  In fact, isn’t this true for most of us today.  How many of us will ever be catalogued among the saints remembered by name?  And yet we are to move forward, commissioned by and sanctified in Christ, loving our neighbors as Jesus has loved us.

This past week I was immersed with young adults from our campus ministry programs in a social-services mission program in downtown Wichita (https://www.facebook.com/thelomission).  Working in small teams, each day they were sent out to work in two of three ministry programs (one the morning and a different one in the afternoon) and they ate their lunches at ESS/Venture House’s building off 2^nd Ave (http://www.esswichita.org/) alongside people coming in off the downtown streets and ate dinner one evening among hundreds of outcasts coming into the Lord’s Diner, a mission to “recognize Christ, to love one another, to share life, in the breaking of the bread” operated by the Roman Catholic Diocese of Wichita (http://catholicdioceseofwichita.org/the-lords-diner/the-lords-diner-home). 

These young adults ‘missionaries’ worked the ESS/Venture House front desk greeting people as they came in seeking assistance, sorted through financial records for people participating in the ‘representative payee program’, observed behavioral modification education with at-risk youth, collaborated the Methodists preparing pallets of food items for families in need, learned about the sociology of poverty and some of the basics of non-profit social services from the leaders of ESS/Venture House as well as our Wichita-area refugee ministry, shared breakfasts with the sisters of the Congregation of St. Joseph (the Roman Catholic order who hosted for the week in their guest house), worshipped and prayed together in the evenings, and served in teams with staff and members of the Breakthrough Club (http://www.btcwichita.com/), an innovative environment that enables career development, social growth, and wellness for people with severe mental illnesses.

Essentially, these young adults spent their week with people on the margins – the ‘least of these’ – folk most of us would prefer not think about much less mingle with our invite into the family: lower class, uneducated, unshaven, smelly, homeless, hungry, out of work, and mentally ill.  And, as importantly, they also spent their week with people followers of Christ will have not been named or numbered among the inner circle of twelve – they worked alongside countless volunteers who give of their time to serve others; alongside professional women and men who have dedicated their lives to serving the poor, hungry, lonely, and needy; and alongside each other, encountering some difficult ‘truths’ together while still forging ahead as a team in Christ’s name.

The hearts of these young adults have been broken open a little more – expanding their capacity to really feel for others. They’ve each discovered something valuable about the reality of mutual vulnerability as an authentic base to enable greater dignity and social and emotional healing and redemption. 

Through challenging immersion in the harsh realities of urban poverty they’ve seen more clearly how our mission is all about repairing relationships – ours toward God and ours with each other.

In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus prays to God for us and uses the language of giving – giving of our lives in sacrificial service; giving of words of wisdom, comfort, and encouragement; and the giving of sanctity (ultimate importance, holiness) through personal encounters with the truth of God’s love incarnated (in Christ and through our continued actions in his name today).

Like Barsabbas and so many other unnamed followers, we may never be recognized as part of the ‘inner circles’ and remembered by name in the history books.  And, that ultimately doesn’t matter because the good news is that God has already included in the larger circle of the body of Christ.  Having been seen exactly as we really are (warts and brokenness and all), we are nonetheless declared holy and sanctified members of this heavenly family, our mission is to seek out / to reach out to those who are considered out of the margins all-together and to invite them back in. 

As these young adults did in Wichita this past week, we’re invited to more clearly see the truth that the needs of our neighbors and our most honest needs are really much the same.  With that heartfelt perspective, we’re then compelled by the love of Christ into mission to repair broken relationships and bring everyone back into healthier community – one family / one body in his name.

As Jesus says in today’s Gospel lesson, just as he was sent by God into the world to demonstrate the true nature of God, so we are sent by him into the world to be witnesses to the truth of God’s love for all of us and the sanctification of any/all who believe in God’s love incarnate.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love and the courage and commitment to love others as Christ has loved us.

AMEN.

Good Shepherd Sunday

©David Sanger | African Art, Sculpture, Jesusthe Good Shepherd

In our assigned lectionary readings this morning, the images of shepherd and sheep are unavoidable.  Hence, this fourth Sunday of Easter by tradition is called Good Shepherd Sunday.

The faithful of the 8:30 ‘encouraged’ me to keep the sermon to no more than 5min… so the 10:45 folk get benefit that distillation as well as the opportunity to expand on it into some more conversation together.

As hard as it might be for some of us to admit, we are like sheep.  Catching all sort of stuff in our outer coats as we graze seemingly mindlessly on whatever is in front of us, we end up carrying around a lot of debris if not groomed periodically.  Left to our own devices, we don’t seem to have a great sense of direction (look at how we’ve ‘evolved’ or not throughout history), instinctively preferring to travel with the herd even if it’s headed in the wrong direction, and getting easily lost if we wander off on our own.  We’re prone to follow whatever voice seems to have the most seductive authority.

There are ‘bad’ shepherds and predators in this valley in which we graze who can and will lead us astray – separating us from each other so that we’re easier prey.  Some ‘shepherds’ are less concerned about our well-being and more intent on using us for their own purposes.  They will not guide and protect us toward a common good.  They will abandon us in times of trouble.

by Fr. John Giuliani

There are also good shepherds (thanks be to God) who work with self-sacrificing, protective care towards us.  Yes, they will sheer and fleece us of our protective coatings now and then, leaving us ‘clean’ albeit more vulnerable.  Ultimately, though, they are interested in keeping us healthy and nourished.  Such shepherds are vigilant in keeping watch out for dangers that we might not notice and keeping us gathered together – even searching out for those who have wandered off and gently guiding them back into group.  Haven’t you known at least one of these good shepherds in your life?

This was all true in the time Jesus and it’s still true for us today. 

Two questions to ask ourselves this week:

1.    How are we discerning which voices to follow – are we following the Good Shepherd?

2.    How are to participate in good shepherding of others, working with Christ, to bring all sheep into one fold, a unified flock.

Consider the well-known Psalm 23 that we’ve heard again this morning.  Perhaps the initial emotional images that are conjured up resemble the popular pastoral image of a gentle Jesus walking through a pleasant meadow carrying a clean, cute little lamb over his shoulders… puffy white clouds in a blue sky, etc..  Indeed, particularly in the midst of a disorienting crisis (like acute grief) that image is, and should be, comforting. 

And, if we go deeper, when combined with our other readings this morning, we also hear themes of want/longing/hunger, the risks and perils of getting lost (wandering off the safe path), fear of evil, accusatory judgments of others - those that trouble me, rejection, personal sacrifice, and the shadow of death.  So below the surface of that peaceful pastoral image of smiling shepherd and the docile lamb, we also have emotional undercurrents of danger, fear of abandonment, protection from predators, longing to be healed and/or taken care of, issues of intimacy, security, trust, and surrender (and the list goes on). 

These emotional undercurrents are the fields in which we are to tend to love itself.  With God’s help, we are to shepherd each other through these shadows into greener pastures together, gathered in Christ’s name.

The Scriptures tell us over and over that God’s love it constantly seeking to draw us out shadows and back into light – to liberate us from bondage and to find us when we’re list,  bringing us back into the holy fold where we can graze kindly and safely with our neighbors. 

As some context for the images in our lectionary readings today, hear what the prophet Ezekiel said to our ancestors about God’s response to the bad shepherds who were scattering and scaring the flock for their own purposes (this is Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Ezekiel 34:10-16 in The Message):

¹⁰ "'Watch out! I'm coming down on the shepherds and taking my sheep back. They're fired as shepherds of my sheep. No more shepherds who just feed themselves! I'll rescue my sheep from their greed. They're not going to feed off my sheep any longer! ^11-16 "'God, the Master, says: From now on, I myself am the shepherd. I'm going looking for them. As shepherds go after their flocks when they get scattered, I'm going after my sheep. I'll rescue them from all the places they've been scattered to in the storms. I'll bring them back from foreign peoples, gather them from foreign countries, and bring them back to their home country. I'll feed them on the mountains of Israel, along the streams, among their own people. I'll lead them into lush pasture so they can roam the mountain pastures of Israel, graze at leisure, feed in the rich pastures on the mountains of Israel. And I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep. I myself will make sure they get plenty of rest. I'll go after the lost, I'll collect the strays, I'll doctor the injured, I'll build up the weak ones and oversee the strong ones so they're not exploited.

And, as particular context for the Gospel lesson we heard, hear how Jesus prefaced his words that we heard this morning – the first ten verses of John 10 (again, from Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase The Message):

 ^1-5 "Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he's up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won't follow a stranger's voice but will scatter because they aren't used to the sound of it." ^6-10Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. "I'll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep stealers, every one of them. But the sheep didn't listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.

Indeed, there are shepherds that lead us astray, putting our lives in danger… and there are good shepherds who seek us out and lead us back into safety and health together.

How do you discern which shepherd you’re following? 

It’s not that hard really – look up from your grazing and determine if you’re in the lush green valley, without as many fears… or if you’re more often in want and fear of the shadows that lurk perilously close.  Are the waters more often still around you?  Or, are you made to feel anxious at their rushing pace?

If you’re not in good pasture, it’s time to listen anew for the voice of Christ this Easter season.  And, look around to see if there’s a flock that appears to be more in the sunlight than the shadows… a flock that appears non-anxious and healthy.  Make your way to be close to them and learn to recognize the shepherd that they follow. 

If you’re in a healthy and lush pasture now, good for you.  Remember to help lead others there are well (sheep are prone to follow each other, remember).

God, we pray that you will help us each and all recognize and listen to the voice of your Son, or Savior, and follow where he leads us.

In this telling of another time that the risen Jesus appeared to some of his disciples (John 21:15-17), the author of John writes that some of the disciples had gone back to fishing but were not able to catch enough for their breakfast.  Jesus appears and helps them gather more food than they were doing on their own and then he breaks bread with them again, opening their hearts and minds, and instructs them…

¹⁵When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”¹⁶A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” ¹⁷He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

Feed my lambs.  Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.

The instructions are pretty clear.  Lord Jesus Christ, our Good Shepherd, expects us to model his good behavior toward others.  We’ve heard this before and we’ll continue to hear it as we listen to the Scriptures.  Love others as Christ loves us.

Our Lord says, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me…. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” (John 10:14-16)

How is St. Andrew’s here in Emporia calling the flock together and tending to the needs of all the sheep gathered in Christ’s name? 

Our call is clear and consistent with voice of our Good Shepherd, no?

At St. Andrew’s you are welcomed as you are and wherever you may be on your journey. As part of the Episcopal Church and Anglican Christianity, we share a long tradition of making room for a diversity of religious, political and social positions while always maintaining that the Risen One, Jesus Christ, is sovereign of all. Whether you are a lifelong Christian or just curious about the Christian Faith, you are welcome here. Whether you are a conservative, a liberal, or something in between, you are welcome here. Whether you are wealthy or broke, you are welcome here. Whether you are black, white, yellow, married, single, divorced, straight, gay, male, female, introverted, extroverted, young or old, you are welcome here. (http://standrewsemporia.org/about/)

And, as lambs and sheep gather here, we are feeding them - quite literally on Saturdays… and in more subtle and sublime ways during the rest of the week.   This is good news, indeed.

And, just as all good shepherds must remain alert and vigilant while the gathered sheep graze in the green pasture, we must remain mindful not to let the love of God fall back into the shadows as a mere feeling or sentiment – we must continue to live it out through our actions toward each other and toward those not yet of our flock.  We are to help others learn to recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd what we do.

As we’ve heard in the Epistle lesson this morning:

“Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. And by this we will know that we are from the truth…. And, this is [God’s] commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us.” (1 John 3:18-19, 23)

AMEN.

Vocational Venn diagram

If anyone out there has the appropriate original citation for this Venn diagram, please let me know - I'd like to give credit where credit is due ;-)  And, here's hope that we all come to know that sweet spot of 'bliss'

Word & Table: re-membering both to believe into new life

Are you hungry?  If you’re not already, I imagine you will be by the time the homily is done.

“You are what you eat”  Originating from French and German writings on diet and health in Europe in the late 19^th Century, and then emerging in English here in America in the 1920’s for catabolic diets and then again in the 1960’s in advocacy of macrobiotic wholefoods, this phrase has literal and metaphorical truth.

This morning, let’s consider the metaphor in light of our lectionary lessons for this third Sunday of Easter. 

Jesus’s mission was all about nourishment – feeding people’s hunger and healing and restoring people so that they could take-in the truth of the new kingdom he was proclaiming and live into a new, better body. 

Jesus enjoyed mealtime and food – he turns water into wine at a wedding (transformation), he multiplies fishes and loafs (abundance), he enjoys meals with folk considered otherwise unenjoyable (redemption / reconciliation), he tells parables using banquets and feasts as images for the new kingdom, and he leverages the symbolism of the paschal meal (body broken and blood sacrificed for restitution and freedom) to institute what we still celebrate today in our Communion meal together.

In today’s Gospel lesson from Luke (24:36b-48), our risen Lord uses ‘word’ and ‘table’ to feed people, restore their sight, and fortify them for mission in his name.

To get a clearer picture, it’s important not only to consider the verses we heard this morning (24:36-48) but also the verses immediately preceding them (24:13-35).  In Luke’s telling, early on third day after the crucifixion, the women were first to see the empty tomb and be told by angels that Jesus had risen from the dead.  Then Peter went to verify their story and saw the strips of limp linen and the empty tomb for himself.  In neither case is it clear that they understood fully what had happened or what it meant.  Like newly hatched birds, they were gasping, mouths agape, for worms but the mother bird had yet to return to the next to feed them… and then kick them out of that nest as encouragement to fly.

It’s on that same day, however, Jesus, at first appearing as a stranger, approaches two of his followers who are walking and talking on their way to Emmaus about all that has just transpired.  It’s clear that they’re still in shock and grief is setting in – their prophet and hoped-for messiah has been killed and they’re wrestling with the news that some of the others have reported that his tomb is empty and that angels have said that Jesus is indeed alive, not dead.  Bewilderment, suspicion, doubt, fear, cynicism… who knows all of what might have been in their hearts and minds at this point. They are so consumed by this swell of emotions that they don’t recognize Christ in their midst.

Jesus meets them where they are – literally and figuratively – and walks alongside them – listening to their pain, anguished concerns, dreams, and hopes.  Having heard their cries and aware of what they’re hungry for, Jesus feeds them with wisdom from scripture.  He leads them through the prophetic wisdom of their ancestors and encourages them to reconsider all that has happened in context of new vision and new hope.   But prophetic and comforting words are not enough to fully open their minds and hearts to the truth. 

Aware the talk about scripture, no matter how inspired, is necessary but not sufficient to meet the depth of their needs, he seeks to feed their deeper hunger through actions in the literal breaking of bread with them.  Christ embraces a divine hospitality that endures in them amid their grief and comforts them with familiar actions at a table (taking bread, giving thanks, breaking it, and giving it to them) that finally enable them to remember – to see again – who he is, who they are, and the power in this community of faith. Their eyes now fully open, they re-cognize (they have a transformation in their perception and understanding) this stranger as Jesus.  Now restored to hope and sight by both word and table, they are compelled to go tell the others the truth.  It’s here that this morning’s passages pick up.

While Cleopas and his companion are sharing what they’ve come to know with the other disciples still huddled fearfully together in Jerusalem, Jesus again appears.  Aware that they fear that they are seeing a ghost (hey, he does appear to walk through walls and such!), he tells them that he is real… but simply telling them to believe is not enough.  (emphasis: simply telling someone about the good news is not enough).  Jesus asks them for something to eat – they share a meal together.  And, Jesus has them consume again the wisdom of the scriptures.   Word and table – Jesus uses both to nourish them, opening their minds and preparing them to receive the Holy Spirit that will equip them to witness and work in his name.

We are what we eat… or, we might phrase it, we are formed by what we take in, digest, and absorb.  What we consume becomes the basis of who we are.  They quality of what goes in forms the foundation of strength that enables us to go out.

What were our ancestors able to take in, digest, and absorb about the reality of their risen Lord and implications of his resurrection to the messianic mission in his name into which they were now being commissioned?  Apparently, with God’s help, they ate a lot, were well nourished, and strong enough to spread the good news of redemption through the resurrected Christ far and wide.

And here we are this morning, with word and table, going through the same actions that our ancestors have for nearly two millennia.  Each time we come into this space together, Christ in Spirit meets us on our road to Emmaus, encourages us to hear something anew as the scriptures are opened, and invites us to break bread together at this table in order that he be revealed in our shared meal.  Hopefully, our minds and hearts are open to all of what we’re being fed by the Holy Spirit – not only in what we’re hearing (because we know that telling and hearing are necessary but not sufficient for a full meal) and in what we’re partaking of together at this table/altar, but also what we’re taking in, digesting, and absorbing about the reality of all of us making up Jesus’s resurrected body… about us being his eyes, mind, heart, feet, and hands in the world.

In what we do here every time we gather for worship in his name, we are very truly re-membering (putting back together and reanimating) the very body of Christ and preparing to take this re-membered, resurrected body into a world in need of good news, redemption, and salvation.

On a personal level… Consider the totality of who you are today.  Can you not see evidence of what you’ve taken in, digested, and absorbed throughout your own life?  Perhaps some ‘bitter herbs’ here-n-there… perhaps some essential ‘fortifying vitamins’ yield from life experience… and undoubtedly plenty of ‘junk food’ along the way.  How is your health based on what you’ve taken in?

Perhaps some of us, now well separated from our Lenten fasts and coming down off the Easter Sunday high, might be backsliding into consumption of things that we know only make us more anxious, unhealthy, and dis-eased.  Fear not. 

And, as Paul reminds his fellow Jews in this morning’s assigned passage from Acts (3:12-19), there is still time to repent (turn-around), wipe out our sins in Christ’s name, and be refreshed.

As the writer of 1 John told us last week and reminds us in our assigned lesson this week (1 John 3:1-7), although we occasionally fall into sin (and should admit that to each other and repent / turn-around from it), we are fundamentally destined to be without sin through Christ and should be always oriented toward doing what is righteous (following Christ’s example).  For, as this writer reminds us, “beloved, we are God’s children now… and all who have this hope in him purify themselves…. Everyone who does what is right is righteous.”  And, “what we will be has not yet been revealed” – in other words, we’re still works in progress, becoming all that God intends for us.  Consider Easter time for spring cleaning and an opportunity to shape up.

(ANECDOTES: WORD + TABLE + ACTION, E.g., campus ministry meals; “Happy Kitchen” community breakfast program; sharing prayer and meals together in Kenya; thelo! mission experience eating with ESS/Venture House clients and at Lord’s Diner)

What are you most hungry for?  How are you discerning the hungers of others around you?  What are we doing to feed each other?  Are we feeding each other with all of what Christ offers?

“You are what you eat.”  Jesus’s mission was all about nourishment – feeding people’s hunger and healing and restoring people so that they could take-in the truth of the new kingdom he was proclaiming and live into a new, better body. 

May our hearts and minds remain open to all that the Holy Spirit is helping us take in, digest, and absorb from regularly feasting on the living Word here in this community and nourishment at Christ’s table so that we are strengthened to go forth from here witnessing through our words and actions the good news of new life in Christ, feeding those who are hungry (in all senses of that phrase) and inviting them to join us at the table loving fellowship at the heavenly feast. 

AMEN

Living for who we believe in beyond closed doors

Let's begin with a brief moment of prayer.  God, we are thankful for all the early alerts and preparedness and that there are so few reports of injuries or death.  And, we know there has been property damage.  Now that the sun has risen, we’ll get more accurate assessments of these damages.  We pray for each person impacted by these damages – perhaps they no longer have a place to live, perhaps they won’t be able to get to work, perhaps this storm has only added to the adversity they’ve been facing in their lives.  We pray for the conviction and motivation of everyone who will be offering relief and repair in these situations – may your grace and compassion surround them through the Holy Spirit. 

Here we are together in the second Sunday of Easter.  Note that I said of not after – Easter Sunday brings us into a whole season of Easter.  For the next six weeks, we’ll be consider what it means that Christ, our Good Shepherd, is risen and we’ll end the season by

concentrating on some of his final lessons and instruction to us before he left his earthly ministry.  We’ll also be hearing about the growth of the early church and wisdom from the apostles during this evolution.  Our Paschal candle remains burning throughout this season as a sign of the light of Christ in our midst – a call to ‘see’ things new and to follow him from the bondage of sin into liberation in the new kingdom. Our Easter season culminates this year in
the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost on the last Sunday in May – the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend.

Each year on this morning, on what is traditionally considered the 8^th day of Easter (the conclusion of the Easter octave), although our other lectionary readings vary according to the cycle we’re in, our Gospel reading is always the same – John 20:19-31 (Jesus’s appearances to his disciples in the upper room, with a focus on the initial unbelief of Thomas).

There is much to explore in what we’ve heard this morning.

In Acts 4:32-25 we hear about the unifying power of the Holy Spirit brining thousands of early believers into such communitarian harmony that they’re compelling to share their resources in common compassionately, assuring that “there was not a needy person among them.”  We could explore this in more depth, consider when, why, and how long that lasted and ask ourselves what it means to us as a community today. 


In 1 John 1:1 - 2:2, we hear about the conviction that a common life in the light of Christ

calls us to admit to and confess our sins against God and neighbor and seek cleansing forgiveness and atonement in the blood sacrifice that Jesus made for all of us.

And then we have our Gospel reading, that some people simply summarize as the reading about ‘doubting Thomas.”  Surely many of you have heard the story many times.  In fact, as we discovered when we explored this Gospel reading together in our campus ministry program at K-State this past week, for some of you it might be one of the most memorable or meaningful stories in scripture.  There’s so much more going in this passage that simply one person doubting that Christ is risen… and more to consider as relevant to our life in Christ today.

First, however, let’s just address this matter of ‘doubting’ Thomas head-on.   Rather than forever cast Thomas as the great doubter, recall that there’s more to this apostle – in fact, we might say Thomas is more perennially faithful than doubting.  This is the same apostle who boldly suggested that the group travel with Jesus back to Bethany after the death of Lazarus even if it meant they would be stoned to death with him (John 11:16).  This is also the same rather practical-minded Thomas who chose to ask out loud what others might have been wondering silently - “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going, so how can we know the way” - when Jesus was being rather indirect in his comments about not being with them much longer.  And we can only imagine that in the grief and fear of that week following his lord’s cruel execution, he was understandably a little incredulous when told something so unbelievable by the other apostles who were still huddled, hiding in the upper room.  Thomas wasn’t asking for anything that the others hadn’t already received – some sort of credible proof that he could believe in.  We might say Thomas was a kinesthetic learner – he needed to actually feel the risen Lord rather than just hear about him.  Many of us can put ourselves in Thomas’s sandals if we’re honest.  And, this is the same Thomas who, after encountering the risen Christ on his own terms, offers us one of the most pithy confessions of faith in all of the New Testament (verse 28) – “My Lord and my God!”  Furthermore, tradition tells us that Thomas might have traveled farthest of any of the apostles in this eventual preaching the Gospel to people in India.  So, let’s give Thomas a bit of a break.  He has been a strong believer and (pardon the pun) no doubt yearns to believe what his friends are telling him… but the stakes are so high in this case and he doesn’t want to be duped… believe in a concept isn’t enough, he needs a personal encounter to stoke his belief in a person - the risen Christ – in order to be released from his fear and suspicion – how many of us can relate to that?

Jesus tells Thomas, and everyone else (including us), to believe.  He goes further to call blessed all those of future generations who will not have seen his pre-Ascension resurrected body personally (i.e., “those who have not seen”) yet come to believe. 

This is not about our belief about something (like the resurrection), it’s about our belief in someone, in this case the risen Christ.  Follow me – there’s an important distinction here.

Belief about something is not the same as belief in someone.   

In Latin, the word credo means “I believe.”  Some interpreters say that the word connotes  ‘something to which I will give my heart” (belief as deep, emotional conviction).  Other analysts of the word’s etymology say that a more accurate denotation would be “something or someone we are willing to trust and commit ourselves and our resources to.” (see discussion on Ship of Fools: http://forum.ship-of-fools.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=70;t=008881)

I can say that I believe that many of you got yourselves here this morning, chose to be here rather than somewhere else, because you’re convicted about Christ and desire fellowship with others who are like minded.  That’s belief in the intellectual sense – something based on assumptions, induction, observable data, etc.

Or, I can say that I believe in you. What’s the difference?  What does that imply that’s more

interpersonal and emotional?

The most compelling aspect of our faith is not based on intellectual knowledge (i.e., what you can know with your mind) so much as it is a procession from the experience of compassionate love and the experience of holy grace (i.e., what you come to know through your heart through experience with other real people).

Now back to our Gospel lesson and what the Spirit might be calling to re-consider / re-conceive in our lives this second Sunday of Easter…


The men didn’t believe the testimony of the women that Jesus had been raised from the dead.  They didn’t believe it.  They were huddled in fear behind a locked door hoping to avoid judgment, persecution, and suffering.  The resurrected Jesus came to them offeringpeace, acknowledging the evidence in his body of his brutal execution while breathing the Holy Spirit upon them, authorizing them to forgive sins, and sending them out beyond the doors to live more freely.  They were so moved by the personal encounter that they began to testify

to what they’d seen.  

But, not everyone (particularly not Thomas) believed in what they were saying.  Jesus did something to help release belief from the grips of suspicion and fear – he makes another personal appearance to meet the doubter where he his and to provide him something he can see and touch.  It’s through the intimacy of this personal manifestation that the doubter is able to believe in the person standing before him.  He previously didn’t believe it, but he now believes in him, proclaiming “My Lord and my God!”

We’re called to believe in a person and the truth of the examples he has given us, not in a statement of faith or a religious concept.  And, this real person sends us out, beyond the closed doors, to proclaim what we’ve seen… and more importantly, what we’ve come to know in our hearts about the good news he has shown us.  Our belief – our mission in faith – is not about ‘facts’ that we are to think about; it’s all about relationships that we are to experience.

“…When God comes, we will recognize God’s presence in those moments when peace is offered, in those moments when life’s most brutal violence is honestly acknowledged, and when, in the midst of this bracing honesty, we realize that we are not alone but have, in fact, been always, already found.” (Serene Jones, President, Union Theological Seminary, NYC)

What does this mean to us today? 

First we might ask, is the risen Christ someone we are willing to trust and commit ourselves and our resources to?  If you’re
not there yet… if you have doubts…  if in your heart you’re not a firm believer in Jesus as resurrected and living Christ, that’s something to explore this Easter.  Let’s talk.  Engage in some intimate interpersonal conversations with those who believe.  Work alongside some of us in the charitable, community service work we do. Come along on some pastoral visits - watch and pray with us as we encounter Christ in personal healing and restoration of wellness and relationships.  Ask the Holy Spirit to guide you toward coming to know something new this season in your heart.

If you do claim to ‘believe’, we might want to explore this Easter how you’re living out your belief.  Talk with others about your shared life in Christ.  Check to see if you/we are hiding behind any closed doors.  Beyond what any of us can say about our beliefs, what are we doing interpersonally to live out examples of Christian faith and belief in action so that others can ‘see’ and ‘touch’ the fruits of life in the light of Christ.    


As we continue into Easter, what will you choose to see and believe in the world around you?  What life-giving possibilities will you live toward with the help of God?  What will your actions help others perceive about our risen Lord?  What life-affirming, loving choices can you make each day that might bring someone from darkness to light such that the eyes of their heart are opened and they are compelled to proclaim,  “My Lord and My God!”  AMEN.