Good Shepherd, tell us plainly

[greetings – great to be back here St. Augustine’s by-the-Sea, Santa Monica]

In this morning’s Gospel lesson from John, Jesus is being confronted by religious leaders during a celebration (Hanukkah) in which observant Jews remember the heroic faith of their ancestors (Maccabees) who reclaimed Jerusalem and rededicated the temple that had been desecrated by Greek conquerors two centuries earlier.  Understandably, the people confronting Jesus in the portico of the temple want to know if this charismatic guy from the rural country presumes to be the messianic leader who will reclaim Jerusalem from the now Roman occupiers.  

There’s something beguiling about them putting such emphasis on words in order to grasp the truth about God’s love in action among us.  And, Jesus knows this. 

Although he will use words to help people understand his identity and intentions, he is aware how words can be misused and can mislead.  Rather than merely explaining what sort of messiah he is (which was a challenging paradigm shift given the prevailing messianic expectations of his time), he has been demonstrating what true ‘kingdom’ salvation is (beyond nationalistic or tribal restoration) when the rules of righteousness and laws of love are truly fulfilled through actions rather than words.

Jesus has been preaching pretty plainly about positions and roles in the kingdom of God through focusing on restorative relationships among divinely beloved and blessed people previously separated by ideological presumptions.  When Jesus does testify to the truth with words, he prefers using parables that require active inquisitive communal engagement to fully comprehend – again, emphasizing that working through new relationships together is how we will come to know the truth about God’s desire for us to be reconciled as a family.  

To those who want to know his identity and mission, Jesus responds with, “I have told you…the works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me”; essentially saying “hey what more do I need to tell you with my mouth; I’ve been showing you with my living everything you need to know about me and how to realize the kingdom of God at hand.”

How are we telling people plainly through our living who we are in Christ’s name and what this church thing is all about?  About what truth do our works testify? 

Consider this more contemporary parable that says something about the perils of speaking about our faith within the walls of the church (our temple) without telling it through action in the community (God’s vineyard):

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’ve 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/)

We can talk about our doctrines and theology… yes, we can embellish our spaces with symbols that should speak to the heart of our collective purpose and work… yes, we can even enact beautiful rituals and rites that are to be visible signs of spiritual truth (particularly as Episcopalians)… Let’s not be tempted into believing that ‘saying it plainly’ in common prayer alone, or acting it out in here once a week, is sufficient testament to the world of salvation through suffering and loving together with our living, resurrected Christ.

It’s not that our words are not important – indeed, professing our faith and sharing our stories are powerful testimonies.  And, there’s nothing more revealing and persuasive about new life in Christ than what our charitable actions toward our neighbors communicate out there, beyond the walls of this place.  If a picture is worth a thousand words, acts of self-sacrificing love speak more than any amount words along can express. 

I imagine that most of us yearn to participate in a life-saving station more than merely contributing to the maintenance of yet another clubhouse along the coast… that rather than just trying to tell people what this is all about through, we’re more enlivened when we’re explaining who Jesus is through healing, restorative love, acts of charity and justice, and life-affirming relationships.  

Whether reaching out to our neighbors who are adrift or shipwrecked… or tending to lost sheep among our friends and family… how do others understand you speaking plainly about new life with, in, and through Jesus Christ?

Where is the Good Shepherd?  Is Christ still at work in our world?  Tell us plainly?

Which says it most clearly… a talking-head trying to explain God’s presence in the midst of tragedy, or the witness of people at the end of the Boston marathon, immediately after bombs have gone off, running back into harm’s way to help others in the shadow of death?... platitudes about innocent children at Sandy Hook Elementary being lifted to heaven by angels, or stories of courageous teachers who dared sacrifice their own bodies as shields for the innocent in the face of evil? 

This morning, we heard from Revelation (7:9-17) of a sacrificial Lamb becoming the heavenly shepherd for people from all nations who have survived great tribulation and now enjoy fellowship in a new, heavenly pasture where this is no more hunger, thirst, scorching heat, or tears – just perpetual worship in a new kingdom defined not by the things that have previously separated us, but by a purity and unity in victory over death itself.

We also heard again one of our most memorable metaphors in the pastoral assurances of Psalm 23.  The Lord is our shepherd who walks with us through fear, guides us through imminent danger, and leads us toward generous and abundant nourishment in greener pastures.

In the Gospel reading (John 10:22-30) Jesus likens himself, in contrast to misleading or nefarious leaders of the vulnerable , as a good shepherd, unified with God in heart and mind, who gathers and protects all sheep who follow his voice. 

In what we heard from Acts, a community which believes that death does not have the final word seeks assistance when they are in need.  Peter doesn’t pontificate in the face of their needs; he uses very few words while demonstrating the power of faith in Christ and the Holy Spirit.

And,  remember that in our Gospel lesson last week, Jesus commissions his disciples to be good shepherds to others (“feed my sheep / tend to my flock”). 

As it is written, it’s not enough just to say the right things or merely to claim to have faith – faith without action based in/on that faith is as good as dead (James 2:16-26). 

Our faith expressed through action with Christ is what revives us as well as what is otherwise thought to be dead. 

Gathered together in the name of Jesus, our true messiah and Good Shepherd, we are in the business life-saving - serving as good shepherds to, for, and with our neighbors. 

Let us tell this plainly first through courageous and faithful actions out there… then we have more cause to celebrate our work with Christ through elegant and comforting words when we gather in here at his table each week.

AMEN.

Recognition, redemption, and rally

Good morning St. Bartholomew’s, Wichita... sorry we missed each other on Palm Sunday this year... good to be with you this third Sunday of Easter.

Hard to that it’s been three weeks since the intense journey of Holy Week and two weeks since the glory of Easter Sunday.  Have you settled back into a normal routine? 

How is it for us just two or three weeks after one of the highest points in our liturgical year together.  Did the final stretch of March madness overtake focus on messianic mission?  Has chatting about the ups-n-downs of our Kansas weather replaced passionate prayers?  Has the reality of tax season and the looming deadline of April 15 (tomorrow!) risen as more of a concern than the implications of external life promised through the resurrection of Jesus Christ?

We can imagine, though the particular circumstances were different, that the pattern of behavior was the same with our ancestors in faith, Jesus’ closest circle of friends.

After the roller coaster of emotions during the final week together with Jesus – the joy, the pain, the tragedy, the drama... and shortly after they had emerged from their hiding place in the upper room and had been shocked and awed by the glory of Jesus’ resurrection, the reality of Christ living and the urgency of following him has begun to fade as they return to going about the business of making a living and putting food on the table.  Simon Peter, the ‘rock’ (study symbol of faithfulness) upon which the emerging church is to be founded, says to his friends, “Hey, I’m going fishing.”  They say they’ll go with him.  The tangible, predictably practicality of fishing with friends probably feels pretty good and reassuring after all that they’ve been through together.  Perhaps while they’re out there laboring, as guys are prone to do, they’ll occasionally and maybe indirectly bring up the topic of Jesus the Christ in between cheers and jeers around the semi-competitive team activity of gathering food from the sea.

What does this morning’s lesson from John (John 21:1-19) also tell us?

Their story began with Jesus calling some of them from their routine of fishing for their daily meal and telling them that he’d show them how to fish for people – how to gather people back into the family of God.   After years together and many provocative and powerful examples of what he meant for them to do with their lives and talents, they’re now back focusing on their nets in the sea.  Jesus returns to help them recognize how his ministry has changed their lives and remember how they are now meant to go change the lives of many others.

The risen Lord comes to them as light amid the dimness of their unfruitful routine, gently awakening their recognition that he lives and is still concerned for them... and he instructs them to change perspective and behavior in order to succeed in their work of gathering.  He invites them to feast from plenty.  He redeems the betrayer through inviting affirmations of love.  He tells them to not just gather people together through casting wisely wide nets in the right direction, but to care for and tend to the needs of the huddled masses – “tend my sheep... feed my sheep...” follow the example I’ve given you. 

What’s your equivalent of ‘gone fishing’ right now in your life? 

What’s the practical, perhaps even enjoyable routine that keeps you active with friends, even if the harvest or yield of your collective labor isn’t really all that plentiful? 

Where might Jesus need to return to find you?

Whether he meets you where you are, by the seaside fire on the beach, or here at our table each week, our risen Lord invites us to break bread together with him and in so doing to recognize that we’re now part of one collective body, that we are to nourish ourselves with his strength given sacrificially to us, and that we’re to go feed others by inviting them to share the abundance prepared for us.

And, our risen Savior doesn’t just return to friends amid their benign routines to invite recognition and call them back to his holy work, Jesus also meets people on their ‘roads to Damascus’.  Even when someone is going to great lengths to fight the Good News and the people who are trying to spread it, Jesus may come to that person as a flash of insight or blinding awakening, knocking them off their course, turning their life around, and recruiting that person for the holy work of evangelism even in the face of continued suspicion and persecution.

Jesus did this with Paul, as we’ve heard in this morning’s lesson from Acts (Acts 9:1-20).  Paul’s encounter with the resurrected Christ stopped him in his tracks and sent him instantly in a new direction in life, emboldened with a new faith and courage that sustained him even as he endured the judgments of others who were suspicious of his sudden conversion and his motives for joining ‘The Way’ of Jesus Christ.

Notice that Jesus called a disciple to minister to Paul to facilitate and accelerate Paul’s conversion experience and help Paul see (literally) his new commission from Christ.  Ananias was aware of Paul’s reputation as a trouble maker for believers and was reluctant to face him for fear of putting himself in harm’s way for the sake of Christ’s will.  And yet, Christ compels Ananias and Ananias’s faithful and loving action toward one who was previously a foe leads to Paul’s new vision, baptism, strength for an unparalleled mission of evangelism.

What are we to hear in this? 

I hear two important things: One, no matter how off track a person might seem, even when they have been actively opposing the Gospel, they may still encounter the resurrected Jesus who will change their vision of themselves and their neighbors through charitable love. Two, Jesus may call any of us to minister to someone unexpected in ways that feel risky or threatening to us initially – we are to trust that Christ is with us and that through participating with the Holy Spirit, amazing changes are possible in that person’s live that may have wonderful widespread implications that are beyond anything we’d imagine.

Recognition.  Redemption.  Rally.

Our Lord is risen, indeed.  And just as it did for Peter, Paul, and other early followers of The Way, the reality of Christ’s resurrection has implications for us each day.

Jesus continues to return to us amid our routines, inviting us to recognize his presence in places and people that we might not have expected to find him.

Jesus invites all, even the betrayer and the persecutor, to healing repentance and will redeem the sight and strength of any who accept his offer of grace.

Christ rallies us to action, compelling us to cast wide nets on the right side of our vessels and to then feed and tend to the needs of those gathered back together into God’s one holy, catholic, and apostolic flock.  

Even when loving our neighbors as Jesus has shown us how to love costs us personally in the short term, we are assured through Easter that persecution, pain, and even death doesn’t have the final word in God’s kingdom of glory.

“God of the new fire, and feasting at daybreak: come to us in the dullness of routine and the pain of betrayal; call to us in the way of the cross and the joy of resurrection; through Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God. Amen.”

(Shakespeare, Steven. Prayers for an inclusive church. New York: Church Publishing, 2009)

Guaranteed revitalization and permanent waves of grace

Good morning, St. Andrew's, Emporia.

We’ve come to the great curtain call – the glorious encore of the drama we began together this week.  Sin and violence and death do not have the final word in the end.... neither over Jesus, nor over us.  This morning we proclaim that Christ is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

[open with humorous story of the “hare spray”]

Amusing? Sure.  And also instructive.  We’ll come back to this tale shortly.

Welcome to St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church.  How wonderful to have you with us this morning.  Who is here this morning?

[welcome newcomers with my own story of coming back to ‘church’ on an Easter morning thirteen years ago]

In the humorous tale of the “hare spray”, we hear about someone going off track, hurting, and in pain and fear.  We hear about others discerning his situation and offering hope… in faith and love offering him benefit of a gift of living words that they were given… and watching in joy as life returns where once only death was seen.

Not long after his resurrection, the disciples have come to see Jesus and he gives them ‘the great commission’ to go make disciples of every one, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit  (Matthew 28:16-19).

And, they did!  The disciples made it their life work to share the good news of the resurrection and all that it meant to people’s lives individually and collectively as well as to baptize believers into the body of Christ – cleansing them from sin and celebrating the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  …and here we are this morning, proof of Christ’s legacy through the faithful labor of those who have gone before us, with God’s help.

What we will be part of today – if we see with our hearts – celebrating the gift of new life through baptism of the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit in the word we read is guaranteed to revitalize and ensure a permanent promise of salvation to those who believe.

We are about to continue the great story – opening another page in the family album - sharing the good news and inviting someone new into the family of God in Christ’s name, as we baptize young Hudson LeGrande Kline in the name of the blessed Trinity.

As some of you know, originally this sacramental ritual act was done after a period of very intentional preparation in which the candidates for baptism had spent much time in conversation and education with other believers so that they understood what they were receiving, becoming part of, and had responsibility to share.

Because Hudson is too young to fully understand the implications of this initiation and willfully take upon himself the promises and commitments of membership in Christ’s church, his parents are entering this covenant on his behalf, and they will invite godparents to also share in the responsibilities of educating him in the Christian faith and life.

We, too, are participating in this sacramental initiation.  We who witness the vows being taken are promising to support the Kline’s in their life in Christ.

And we will, with them, renew our own baptismal promises – reminding ourselves and each other of the covenant we’ve entered and our commitments therein.

We’re each invited to evaluate ourselves in the resurrected light of Christ this morning as we say again what we have committed to do in Christ’s name.  Beyond agreeing that we believe certain creedal statements, we’re renewing our promises to:

Continue teaching and educating, through words and actions, about the good news of God in Christ.

Continue in prayerful and celebratory fellowship with each other

Resist evil and strive for justice and peace.

Respect the dignity of every human being and seek to serve Christ in all people, loving our neighbors at least as much as we love ourselves.

And, when we fall short of these things – when we sin – to turn ourselves around (repent) and return to centering our motives and aspirations in Jesus Christ.

Then, in my prayer after the baptism, to help us fulfill these promises, you will hear me ask God, through the Holy Spirit, to give us four things:

1.  courage and will to persevere 

2. inquiring and discerning hearts

3. spirit to know and to love God

4. joy and wonder in all God’s works

Courage and will to persevere… Isn’t this a constant call in through the stories in the scriptures?  Certainly, we’ve heard it again in this morning’s lesson from Isaiah 65:17-25.  Likely written after the Israelites have returned from exile, but while many are still discouraged because of slow progress in the promised land, the prophet’s words are meant to be encouraging.  God promises new life and prosperity in which past trouble will be forgotten, labor will not be in vain, and heaven and earth will again be in accord according to God’s great desire for us.  We can probably each think of someone right now who needs words of encouragement to bolster their will to persevere.  We are called to pull over when we notice someone in that condition and pull out our ‘hare spray’ and read the living words of promise to them.

Inquiring and discerning hearts… Paul and Peter are both exemplars of godly inquiry and heart-filled discernment.  They each carefully considered what they had seen and experienced and then discerned that they must change their ways and encourage others to also open their eyes to see a new reality – a new kingdom come through Jesus Christ through which we are all radically free to be ourselves while also enjoying loving and charitable fellowship with each other in his name.  In this morning’s lesson from Acts 10:34-43, we here Peter proclaiming good news across a cultural / tribal boundary to a non-Jew / Roman centurion and his family.  Peter has discerned that non-Jews didn’t need to convert and follow Jewish laws and customs in order to participate in the new kingdom come.  He is now convinced that since there is only one God, that God must be God of ALL people.  As Peter has carefully examined the evidence and has discerned to overcome his own prejudices in order to invite everyone to share the same meal, we too are called to search our hearts and discern what keeps us from connecting with others and feasting with them at a common table.

Spirit to know and to love God…  In this collection of love letters called the Bible, we hear stories of followers having their eyes opened to see and recognize the resurrected Jesus.  As we hear this morning, Mary sees him outside the tomb, first as a gardener and then as her Lord when he speaks her name (John 20:11-18).  Later in the day, two disciples on the road to Emmaus offer hospitality to a stranger who opens the scriptures to them – they see Jesus when he then breaks bread with them (Luke 24:13-35).  A week later, Thomas, who doubts because he hasn’t yet had a personal encounter with the resurrected Christ, is gently confronted with the evidence he needs to know this is Jesus resurrected, he then proclaims, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:24-29).  We know that eventually, hundreds, then thousands, then millions and more come to know and love God through the faithful actions of other believers who speak boldly about the gifts of grace afforded through resurrected Jesus Christ.  Having heard these stories, we are to keep our hearts, minds, and eyes open for Christ in our midst.  He’s told us how to know him – in acts of loving and serving those in need.

Joy and wonder in all God’s works…  Writer Nora Gallagher talks about spending less time talking about what we believe or don’t believe, and more time “practicing resurrection.”  I’ve read that she has said, “When I think about the resurrection now, I not only wonder about what happened to Jesus. I ponder what happened to his disciples. Something happened to them, too. They went into hiding after the crucifixion, but after the resurrection appearances, they walked back out into the world. They became braver and stronger; they visited strangers, and healed the sick. It was not just what they saw when they saw Jesus, or how they saw it, but what was set free in them….”  This morning, recall how God has brought wonder into your life. Imagine how God will bring wonder into the life of little Hudson in his years ahead.  Offer praises of joy for these God-given wonders in your prayers and in our singing.

During his earthly ministry, the disciples relied on Jesus as the teacher and prophet and healer.  After this resurrection, he equipped them to carry on the work of his cause – inspiring them with faith and hope and gifting to them the Holy Spirit to help them love each other as he has loved them.  They became the teachers, preachers, prophets, and healers in his name.  These roles have now been passed to us through our baptism.

If you’re wondering where to start this Easter season, consider telling your co-workers, friends, and family what a joy it was this morning to participate in initiating a new life into the body of Christ and to renew our promises the live as Christians with our church family and in our community here in Emporia.  Some people might ignore you or just politely smile and go back to what they were doing.  A few, however, might inquire more about what you’ve said.  Praise God in that moment (at least in your own heart)!  Then, lovingly and gently walk with them in their questions, sharing parts of your own story of faith that might relate to what they’re wondering, focusing them on hope in God making all things new and right through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and offering to pray with them in love for the Holy Spirit’s continued guidance.  Heck, maybe even invite them to ‘come and see’ – invite them to come with you to something here at St. Andrew’s – assure them that there’s always room for new folk at our family table.

May fear and guilt in our lives be replaced with new courage and conviction to share the good news of resurrection and reconciliation possible through Jesus Christ.

May we stop to help those on road sides who are in need – confidently pulling out our ‘hare spray’, reading the living Word with faith that it will revitalize and hope that in in following the instructions with love, and with God’s help, we ensure a lasting wave of peace and joy.

Let us pray.  Living Lord, whose love displaced the gravity of stone; you’ve entrusted your disciples, who love you beyond death, with news of the resurrection: we praise you for the open gospel which ends where Easter faith begins.  Accept our occasional fear and disbelief and take us into this new world led by the risen Son, helping us see your love in us and others anew, granting us the wisdom and confidence to speak through our own amazement so that others who need to hear the good news can be resurrected with us, through Jesus Christ, the firstborn of the [formerly] dead.  Amen.  Alleluia!

(adapted from a prayer by Steven Shakespeare in Prayers for an Inclusive Church. Church Publishing: New York)

Where is the light of truth in the darkness of Good Friday?

We are on a death watch together for these next two days.

Someone who showed us how to more fully love and accept our own belovedness has been convicted of a crime and executed.

What is the truth about what has just happened?  What has been the meaning of the life and actions of our beloved prophet and teacher, if it has resulted in this brutal, bitter end?

No one stepped in to challenge what ‘the system’ was doing to this man who was releasing captives, restoring sight to the blind, and restoring dignity to the ill and the marginalized young and the old alike – bringing everyone into new relationships of mutual care with one another.

Surely, we can all sit comfortably distant from what we’ve just heard.  Surely, none of us have ever participated in plotting/scheming… betrayal… trying to evade final responsibility for a major decision…. mob mentality… shutting down and withdrawing from relationships because of shock or grief...  denial… avoidance of standing up for someone because of our fears of being judged or rejected.   All these dark visitors are around us as we sit here facing the barrenness of this scene. 

Our Lord has been judged, mocked, beaten, and brutally murdered.  There are empty chairs and empty tables where they were just celebrating a meal togehther; friends of his are now huddled in fearful hiding; a powerful ruler is perhaps wondering too late if this was a mistake; and there’s an enraged mob that is slowly coming down off their endorphine-filled catharsis and returning to life under Roman rule.  In short, other than possible regret and certainly fear, it doesn’t seem that much has changed. There are a few people still gathered at the foot of the cross – tear-filled eyes looking up… grief stricken and wondering if this is how it ends… how all their hopes and dreams come to an end.

What in this story resonates with our own life experience right now?

Above the head of Jesus is a mocking sign “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”.  Were you up there on either side of him, what do you suppose the sign above your head would say?

If you’re at the foot of the cross looking up, what do you want to cry out or ask?

Soon, a cross will be processed up to the altar.  As it is carried among us, place yourself in this story.  Consider what you will bring forward to the cross tonight.  Listen to what is going on inside you.  See yourself coming to the foot of the cross, in company with the three Mary’s – his mother, his aunt, and his close companion in ministry, Mary Magdalene. Stand with them in devotion and deep grief that only comes from deep love.

You’re invite to come venerate the cross; offer a devotion or prayer in front of it; some people kiss it or actually spread their arms wide and embrace it (seeking to connect with Christ is a deeper way)… just don’t deny it… don’t pretend it’s not really there or that it’s not worth the effort to confront what is represents tonight.

Come to the foot of the cross, kneel, look up… imagine all that Jesus has said and done… see him hanging there.  See if you can still tell yourself, as powers in this world sometimes try to convince us, that this doesn’t matter… that his dying doesn’t mean anything.

If there’s nothing pressing you personally… consider venerating the cross on behalf of the family of St. Andrew’s.  Consider your act of devotion as prayer for others.

One commentator has said, “our Good Friday faith is that love that seeks to bear the pain of others is never wasted.” (Sandy Williams in Companion to the Revised Common Lectionary, Vol 8, Mining the Meaning – Year C. 2003: U.K., Epworth)

Jesus said to Pilate, “… I came into the world, to testify to the truth.”

Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

What is truth?  What is true tonight?

All of us are to be pain bearers tonight as we struggle to accept that Jesus continues to be crucified in our world today… and consider how we are complicit.

All of us are invited to bring ourselves, our souls, and our bodies before the cross and discern what we need to leave there – what pain have we been carrying for too long… what needs to die in us in order for us to enjoy new life. 

All of us are called to see that we’re together in this.  Even if there are no effective words of comfort to offer; even if some are avoiding or in denial about what is happening; even if others need to rage in anger or despair… we’re gathered here, like some of Jesus’ family and friends at the foot of the cross.  We’re gathered in his name, even in these dark hours.

I encourage you to surrender something at the cross tonight.  Ask Jesus to take it to the grave for you… or for us.

I invite you to sit in prayer sometime tomorrow and talk to God where you are right now in your relationship with Jesus Christ. 

God Almighty, Father/creator, Son/redeemer, and Spirit/sustainer remain at holy work in relationship with us, even in our darkest hours.

“O Jesus, to you, now lifted up, with your arms of love stretched out on the hard wood of the cross, in your loving and giving until all is completed, to you in your finishing, we bring all our incompleteness, all our unfinishedness, all those things done and left undone: our fractional loving, our fragmentary living, our unrealized intentions, our unfulfilled potential, our unarticulated praise, our unprayed prayers, our underachieved service, our ungiven forgiveness, our conditional charity, our inadequate hope, our wanting faith, unfinished us, unfinished me. And you say, drawing each of us and our incompleteness all to you…”  (The Rev. Dr. Amy E. Richter, Rector of St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Annapolis, MD). 

Help us to know what it really means that through you all things have been made new.

Seek to open your mind and heart to the possibilities of what needs be overcome… what can be born again… what shall be resurrected.

AMEN.

This night is different from other nights

[discussion points]

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”

• Our Jewish friends began Passover earlier this week (sundown on Monday)
• At the Passover Seder meal, this question is asked, usually by a child, to solicit explanation about why this elaborate evening of eating and reading is now like other social gatherings and holidays
• For ancient Israel, and still for Jews today, this evening Seder brings God’s chosen people back into the remembrance of God leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt… and, particularly, remembering how God’s final plague against Egypt(the death of all first born) passed over the houses of the faithful Israelites because they had marked their entryways with the blood of a perfect sacrifice (a special lamb selected and slaughtered in a special way)
• [ref. unleavened bread, being ready to leave quickly, etc.]

Why is this night different from all other nights… for us?

• If you were to ask the Altar Guild, they’d probably say “because it’s more complex logistically and even kinda awkward in places” – indeed.
• There is more going on this night that is meant to unsettle us and, frankly, confront us with some rather uncomfortable moments meant to help us open our hearts and use our hands in new ways
• Although our service tonight is very similar to the sacramental meals we share each Sunday, tonight is different for at least three important reasons:

o   1)  we’re meant to comprehend more vividly that whereas our Jewish ancestors use a special meal this week to celebrate being spared of  violence caused by God and being led by out of bondage into a promised physical kingdom, we’re gathered for a meal that shows us how God has led us out of the burden of our sins and into a spiritual kingdom even amid the violence of this world

o   2) we’re invited into a very intimate experience of giving and receiving humble service in love through touching – cleaning! – each other’s feet

o   3) while we know there’s hope to the story ultimately, tonight we don’t end in hope – we end if loss, abandonment, and, if we really ‘go there’ – dark despair.

Put another way, it’s said that one of the longest spiritual journey’s we take in life is only a little over foot in length – it’s the distance from our head to our heart. Tonight is different in that we’re invited to experience the call of our Lord even more deeply emotionally - experiencing more from our hearts what it means to express love toward each other through humble service, and how it feels to allow someone to care for us as Jesus cares for us. 

Jesus took an expected act of hospitality normally done by a slave and lived into it as a powerful symbol of the humble love and charity expected of us as his disciples. We’re being asked to bring the power of this story to life again tonight through our own hands and feet... and to have this experience help us consider differently how we related to everyone outside the walls of this church.

o   Foot washing had very practical purposes for our ancestors; in the biblical context, having a slave wash a guests feet upon arrival in your home was an act of hospitality that said, ‘you’re welcome here; take a load off those feet that have traveled so far; we’ll care for you here.’ 

o   For us, this actions can be a transforming emotional journey. THIS IS BEYOND RELIGIOUS RITUAL – this is an invitation to touch each other and be touched by love in Christ’s name; I pray we lose track of the liturgy for a few moments during this service and actually encounter the brokenness, fears, and reservations in us… and also accept the healing and gentle love that Jesus offers and that we’re invited to offer to each other; we’re being asked to expose intimate parts of ourselves and touch each other in humble humility while lovingly respecting our mutual vulnerability

o   This was hard for Paul, as we’ve heard.  This is hard for some of us also.  Is this appropriate for our friend and neighbor to do this for us?  Are we embarrassed by it?  Do we have the courage, conviction, and love to humble ourselves to this type of action?  Do we feel worthy to accept such tender kindness from others?

NOTE: Jesus humbly and loving did this for all of those gathered… knowing, John says, that all of them would betray him in some way, E.g., Judas, Peter’s denials, all of them fleeing in fear, etc. – because Jesus wanted this powerful example of what God’s expects of us to endure as an instructive memory long after the shock of his death and the elation about his resurrection fades

   

A young-adult who is serving in Hong Kong with Episcopal Young Adult Service Corps wrote on her blog today: “Being a servant is more than just getting dirty, or taking on a job that no one else wants to do; it’s about loving someone else so much that you’re willing to sacrifice—really sacrifice time, talent, and treasure—for that other person’s well-being and betterment. Jesus calls us to love one another. He goes so far as to say that we will be known as his followers if we love each other.” [Grace Flint, Young Adult Service Corps in Hong Kong]

What’s different about tonight?  How we conclude the service.

Following the coming together in washing of each other’s feet and the sharing of this sacred meal in remembrance of Christ’s last Passover support with this closest friends, we will descend into darkness and are invited to encounter some of our own deepest fears and injuries around death, grief, separation, abandonment, and loss of hope. 

At the close of our time all together we will strip the altar bare – reminding us how our Lord was stripped of all dignity and how empty and bare our lives are without the light and love of his presence; we will wash the altar as we would prepare the dead for burial; we will lay the broken body of our Lord in the chapel as a tomb.
How will you feel when all signs of hope are removed from this place and we’re left only with an altar of repose for our Lord? 
Will you join with others to keep awake and keep watch? 
What sense can you make of tonight’s journey with each other – through the intimacy of washing each other’s feet through to the witnessing of the signs of death and loss of our Lord? 

As you journey from head to heart tonight, surrender the rules and conventions that tell you that those in power and with prestige are there to be served; that keep the poor and underclass under foot… consider that one of Jesus’ final demonstrations of God’s intentions was in lowering himself to serve us so that we could see how to do the same so that we all may be lifted up. 
Generous acts of humble service in love are to conquer fears, help the lost be found, and to restore the broken-hearted to their rightful place at the table – as equals and beloved in the eyes of God. 
And no matter what darkness seems to overtake us, remember that we’re in this together – walking each other home to God’s kingdom, where places have been already prepared for us as a heavenly family. 
It is Jesus himself who call us into this night that is different from other nights. 
It is our Lord who calls us to do as he has done… who give us the mandatum (Latin for ‘new mandate’) to love each other as he has shown us how to love each other.

“you also should do as I have done to you” (John 13:15)

It is our Christ who calls us to participate differently tonight.

“do this in remembrance of me” (1 Cor 11: 24)

AMEN

We’re in this together, with faces like flint and hope for the future

[opening remarks as Campus Missioner to those gathered at St. James, Wichita - E.g., thanks for support, thank leadership, solicit interest for new campus peer ministers, etc.]

Now let us turn to this pivotal Wednesday in Holy Week.  Here we are gathered in an intimate scene with Jesus as he enjoys final Passover meal with his closest friends. 

Those gathered have been with him for years.  Their journeys have been difficult, and we know will become even more challenging in ways they have yet to imagine.  Tonight they’re hungry.  They’re hungry for the liberation and redemption that Jesus will bring.  Their hopes were amplified just days ago when they entered Jerusalem with him to cheers and the waving of palm branches.  Through him must come what their ancestors and prophets have longed for – kingdom restoration.  This is their new Lord, teacher, and messianic savior.  And, we can imagine that each of them is harboring a very personal hope and expectation about the benefits that are to come when their vision of kingdom is come.  At this last supper, consistent with what he’s been showing them all along, Jesus challenges them to see the kingdom anew, through God’s eyes, not their own.

At this Passover Seder, they are celebrating a great return from exile with God’s help...  and they are looking toward their future with equally hopeful expectations about a new kingdom to come.  Jesus has been trying for years, and will continue tonight, to provocatively shape their expectations about the kingdom of God and their roles in helping everyone reunite there.

What is each of us carrying in our hearts and minds tonight as we gather with Christ for this intimate meal?  The story we share during this supper is about God’s promises for our return, with God’s help, from exile. What are we privately hoping will be the benefits of following our Lord into the promised place?  When we look around and consider who is gathered with us, don’t we want to believe we’re all kinda aiming for the same sort of kingdom life together?  Isn’t it a little hard to believe that any of one of us would intentionally plot to betray the other?  Isn’t it a little hard to accept that following our Lord may well lead us through additional earthly hardship and suffering?

And, yet, here we are hearing about Satan entering one of the Jesus’ closest partners in ministry, Judas, the one so trusted that he kept the group’s collective financial resources.  We watch, confused, as this trusted disciple departs our common table to betray our leader and to betray us.  “It was night” says verse 30.  Even as they (we!) gather for this sacred meal with friends and our heavenly Lord, there is darkness all around them (all around us). 

If we’re honest tonight at this meal with Jesus, we each stand convicted of having chosen to betray Christ and each other, sometimes in smaller ways of neglect or denial and sometimes in more intentionally mean-spirited or selfish ways.

Jesus doesn’t draw attention to the darkness, though.  He doesn’t seem to admonish the one who he knows will betray him.  In fact, as we’ll consider in more depth tomorrow night, while gathered as the common table, their teacher and leader lowers himself to serve each of them, washing each of their feet, including the feet of the very person he knows will soon walk away to betray him and the entire ministry they have shared the past several years.  Despite any of our shortcomings, Jesus wants us all to be fed and to be reconciled in the heavenly family... and he’s willing to go to extraordinary lengths for this glorification.

How great is God’s mercy and compassion?  How extraordinarily gracious is Christ’s love for us, even when we’re possessed of evil desires and selfish intentions?

The days to come will be some of the most horrific and discouraging for those who love Jesus.  In the days, weeks, months, and years that follow, each person here gathered will be challenged to come to new terms with what Jesus has been teaching, demonstrating for us, and calling us to do in his Spirit.  Our expectations of God will likely be challenged just as our acceptance of God’s expectations of us will be challenging.  Jesus the messiah came to make things right, not to establish a kingdom in which any of us gain at anyone else’s expense. 

Following the examples and commandments of our Lord will not be easy. Though he tells us that his yoke is light for those who follow him, he also asks us to take up the cross as we follow him – calling us to realize that the world around us is not as ready to accept the good news that we’re all family and should care for each other as Jesus cares for us, with a particular preference for lifting up the lowly and the least among us.

The author of Hebrews says we are to run this race of life – this marathon that we’re in together – with faithful perseverance, looking ahead realizing that Jesus has already gone before us to courageously pave the way, enduring the worst hardships on our behalf to cut this path home to our reunion with God’s family.  “Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.” (Hebrews 12:3)

Through the prophet Isaiah, we are told that we are not to turn backward, even when moving forward in faithful perseverance and fidelity to God results in us being insulted, spit upon, and even struck.  Each day we are to let go of the guilt or fear that might weigh us down and to rise morning after morning remembering that we are teachers of God’s promises as we face the struggles ahead with faces like flint –strong and incisive.  Shame and disgrace from the powers that oppose us all sharing equally in the kingdom of God’s love shall not win the day.  God has the final say and will vindicate his servants who have suffered for the sake of justice, compassion, and mercy.  On Easter morning we will celebrate this good news – are we deeply convicted of that this really means in our globally interdependent lives today?

This journey, this race, if we’re following the examples of Jesus, will come with heartache and suffering – that’s guaranteed if we’re living and loving as Christ has shown us how to.  And, our Lord, who endured trials at least as great as any we face, has already won this race for us all.  We’re not having to compete to win – we’re being call to cooperate and support each other on this journey to a home already prepared for us.

As we enter the darkness tonight after departing from this meal, remember “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.” (Hebrews 12:1)

Those faithful who have gone before us, include Jesus himself as well as all those who were gathered at the last supper, pack the home stadium and cheer us on.  When the going gets tough – and it will – and the dark clouds of adversity surround you, remember that you are loved and supported not only by a great heavenly family, but also by sisters and brothers here and now who gather at this common table with you in Christ’s name. 

Each time we gather for this meal, particularly in the next three days ahead when we’ll come face to face with some of the darkest realities of human nature, remember that we’re to stay the course, focused on God through Christ, and that we’re in this together.  Whether sprinting or walking, we are to be side by side on our journey home and God is with us, Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer. 

AMEN.

Psalms of suffering, faith, and hope

Greetings, St. Bartholomew’s.  Thank you for inviting me back again for Palm Sunday.

The last two times I’ve been here with you on Palm Sunday, we’ve reflection on the Gospel readings and Passion narrative.  Two years ago we considered ‘who abandoned whom’ and examined our own lives with Jesus.  Last year we got into the narratives, imagining ourselves part of the scene on during the procession into Jerusalem and then during the Passion to discover what we see and feel that is still influencing our faith and action today. 

This morning I want to focus in on two of the Psalms.

Jesus’s final words from the cross (according to the synoptic Gospels), at the ninth hour, and the Psalms from which they come…

Citing opening words from a sacred text (like using the first verse of Psalm 22 or the fifth verse of Psalm 31) was a way of referencing or invoking the whole reading.

In the Passion narratives, most of the quotes from, and allusions to, the writings from the Old Testament come from the Psalms, specifically from these Psalms of gut-wrenching lament, hope-filled petition, and faith-filled declaration.   This was a way of interpreting and understanding current experiences in context of tradition.  In this sense, we’re being invited to hear and see something about Jesus (as he suffers and faces death) and the meaning of this experience in light of the tradition of these Psalms.

The Deposition from the Cross
Carravaggio 1600-1604

These Psalms address our fears of loss – of physical vitality (and death itself), of fellowship (friends and family relationships), and of faith and trust in our creator – as well as powerlessness and apparent abandonment.

Often we resist entering into the darkness (of this week and of trouble in our lives) because we fear we’ll never find our way our or escape from it.

Let’s take a closer look at Psalm 22 and 31 and discover what the Spirit is inviting us to grapple with this Holy Week – both the reality of our suffering and the promise that there’s more to the story.

[distribute hand-out with Psalm 22 on one side and Psalm 31 on the other; refer to BCP if not enough hand-outs]

[Q’s: What stands out/ what do you notice?  What meaning to you hear?  What might be Spirit calling you to do?]

[use notes below as needed]

Psalm 22 – verse 1 “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

• Matthew 27:46
• Mark 15:34 
• Excerpts from this Psalm are also used elsewhere in the Gospel stories: 
• v7 (they mock me) in Mark 15:29 and Matt 27:39
• v8 (commit your cause to Lord – let him rescue) in Matt 27:43
• v15 (mouth is dry – lay me in the dust) in John 19:28 
• v18 (dividing clothes and casting lots) in Mark 15:24, Matt 27:35, Luke 23:34, and John 19:24
• You will receipt the Psalm in its entirety on Good Friday
• a prayer for deliverance from threatening trouble (though attributed to King David, interpreted to apply not a specific time and event, but a condition of need in general)
• dangerous and vicious images of encircling throngs of evildoers and powerful animals that will prey on the weak 
• “My” inferring an intimate, personal experience that heightens the pain (of very personal loss/abandonment/betrayal) 
• “be not far” (vv. 11 and 19) – speaking to the distance being felt painfully as well as the faith that in these times of attack when death is imminent, “my God” can come closer to relief the situation
• Movement from being mocked and apparently cursed because of commitment to God, to celebration and reverence because of the author’s faithfulness 
• A prophetic and eschatological prayer for help as well as a prayer of praise for help delivered 
• v26 – “the poor shall eat and be satisfied” – sacred sustenance provided; manna; justice; our sacrament of bread/body and wine/blood 
• the language refers to a communal / fraternal group (adamah / humanity) who will share in this celebration of deliverance, culminating in all end of the earth and all families as well as future generations (verses 27 & 30) 

Psalm 31 – verse 5 “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

• Luke 23:46 
• Verses 9-13 profound sorry and grief (physical and psychological suffering) 
• Verse 14 begins a confident prayer for refuge under the protection of a protective parent 
• anticipation of deliverance from persecution, tribulation, long-suffering, and grief 
• concluding with praise and call to the faithful to love and trust in God 
• a declaration of trust in giving one’s life up to God (not just turning over one’s soul at the end) 
• “but” in verse 14 – the great ‘however’ / ‘despite all this’ 
• some say an ultimate expression of dependence, surrender, and trust in God’s will, E.g., verse 15 “my times are in your hand” 
• invoked by other believers at the hour of their death (E.g., Stephen in Acts 7:59; Luther also)
• verse 5 as a statement of faithful resignation at death.. verses 14-15 a statement of faithful living in the meantime. 

Summary suggestions [depending on what has come up in discussion]:

Jesus stood up for justice, compassion, and charitable love in a political and social context that was so threatened by what he was demonstrating that they wanted him dead rather than overturn the system of rules and entitlements.  Jesus suffered as a result of his stand and was snuffed out by those in earthly power.  And, God does not let that suffering and death stand as the final word.

Jesus is invoking wisdom from the Psalms to say that we can and will bare suffering and death…and that it’s not the end of the story.  We can trust that God ultimately delivers.

Jesus joins with us in suffering – crying out in the vivid imagery of Psalms as his ancestors had in times of trouble and as we still do in our current moment of anguish.

He encourages us to model his faithful examples of crying out in prayer in our times of trouble.

Our perspective on pain, suffering, and apparent separation should also include promise of ultimate protection and redemption.  Even in the face of a horrific death, God doesn’t actually abandon.  Death will not have the final word – God will deliver the dying and the afflicted.

 “Lord of the swaying palms, the stones of earth and the beasts of burden bear witness to your coming: lead us from the violence of empire and the collusion of crowds to a heart of flesh, a world re-made and new song for all creation; through Jesus Christ, the Crucified God.”  (Shakespeare, Steven. Prayers for an Inclusive Church. 2009: Church Publishing, NYC)

AMEN