Thursday, May 28, 2009
A Blessing for Pentecost
At our 10 a.m. worship service this Sunday, the Rev. Wanda Craner, the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference's Minister for Spiritual Nurture, will be preaching on the topic "Confused, and About to Give Birth." At our 11 a.m. church school hour, she will be leading a session on spiritual devotional practices. This is a unique opportunity to experience new ways to strengthen our connection to God. Come and be blessed!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Fruitful
Today’s reading from John’s Gospel (John 15:1-8) is one of those great “I am” statements that are such a prominent and distinctive part of John’s Gospel. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are called the synoptic gospels – from a Greek word meaning “seeing together” – because their accounts of the life of Jesus are very similar. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke we have Jesus telling parables about the Kingdom of Heaven. These begin with the familiar words, “the kingdom of heaven is like….” In these three Gospels, some variation of the phrase “Kingdom of God” or “Kingdom of Heaven” or just “kingdom” appears over 100 times. By contrast, in John’s gospel there are no parables, and the word Kingdom appears only 3 times. Instead of Jesus saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like such and thus” we have the “I am” sayings of Jesus – last week’s “I am the good shepherd”, this week’s “I am the vine”, in other places “I am the bread of life”, and “I am the resurrection and the life”. But whether Jesus is telling parables about the Kingdom, or comparing himself to bread, and vine, he is telling us about God’s activity in the world – not only activity that happened 2,000 years ago, but God’s activity right now, in our midst.
The timing of Jesus’ words is crucial to our understanding of the text. It is part of Jesus’ farewell discourse, after he had shared bread and wine with his disciples, after Judas had gone out to betray him. During those fleeting minutes and hours before the betrayal, Jesus had to prepare his disciples for the horrors that would lie ahead. How would they stand in the time of trial? What word could Jesus give them to sustain them? Jesus’ word for the disciples – and for us – is “abide”. Abide. Abide in me as I abide in you. What does it mean to abide?
There are several shades of meaning. Abide can mean “to dwell” or “to live in a particular place.” When we invite someone into our home, we might say, “welcome to my humble abode” – the humble abode where I abide, or live. The word “abide” also involves a sense of the passage of a significant length of time, a condition that lasts over the long haul – the abiding love that marks healthy relationship is a contrast to the here-today, gone tomorrow infatuation of someone not ready for an abiding relationship. And the word “abide” can also be used in the sense of “to put up with” or “to tolerate.” And it can also mean “to wait for” or “to endure for a long period.” So to “abide” with someone is to live with them over the long haul, warts and all.
So how does Jesus prepare his followers for the difficulty to come? He tells them to abide in him, and he in them – to let his life enter their lives, and to let their lives be part of his life. He tells them to abide – to continue, to endure, to live in Jesus, and to allow Jesus to live in them. And to put up with the hardship that would come with the decision to abide. And Jesus would do the same, would hang in there with them, warts and all.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ metaphor for abiding is the metaphor of the vine – Jesus says “I am the vine, you are the branches.” The branches abide in the vine – draw their sustenance from it – and the vine lives in the branches – the branches fulfill the purpose of the vine by bringing forth fruit. There’s a mutual, indeed, inseparable relationship – how do you tell where the vine stops and the branches start. And this is Jesus’ metaphor for his followers – those with him them, and for us as well. Mutual, inseparable relationship – in our lives, not being able to tell where Jesus leaves off and we pick up, because we and Jesus are so bound up in each other. The “vine and branches” metaphor is familiar, because even if we don’t have a vineyard in our backyard – or even if we don’t have a backyard, for that matter, we know what happens to a branch that’s cut out of a tree, or to lawn clippings that are left on a lawn. They wither. They dry up. You don’t cut a branch off an apple tree and expect it to go on sprouting new apples. You don’t cut the grass and expect the clippings to start growing. Separated from the main plant, an individual branch literally can do nothing. And it’s like that for us. Without being fed by the Word, without drawing strength from worshipping together, without allowing time and space in our lives for the Spirit to speak in us and move in us, our spiritual life eventually dries up, and all our efforts for good come to nothing. But if we allow ourselves to be fed spiritually, there’s no stopping us in our efforts to bear fruit – as Jesus says, fruit that will last.
When we face difficulties, God’s word for us is – abide. Abide. Hang in there. Keep on keeping on. Most of all, keep on keeping on abiding in Christ, so that we don’t become overwhelmed with bitterness and cynicism – don’t find our spirits dried up – but find ourselves sustained by God’s grace even through the worst of bad times.
The timing of Jesus’ words is crucial to our understanding of the text. It is part of Jesus’ farewell discourse, after he had shared bread and wine with his disciples, after Judas had gone out to betray him. During those fleeting minutes and hours before the betrayal, Jesus had to prepare his disciples for the horrors that would lie ahead. How would they stand in the time of trial? What word could Jesus give them to sustain them? Jesus’ word for the disciples – and for us – is “abide”. Abide. Abide in me as I abide in you. What does it mean to abide?
There are several shades of meaning. Abide can mean “to dwell” or “to live in a particular place.” When we invite someone into our home, we might say, “welcome to my humble abode” – the humble abode where I abide, or live. The word “abide” also involves a sense of the passage of a significant length of time, a condition that lasts over the long haul – the abiding love that marks healthy relationship is a contrast to the here-today, gone tomorrow infatuation of someone not ready for an abiding relationship. And the word “abide” can also be used in the sense of “to put up with” or “to tolerate.” And it can also mean “to wait for” or “to endure for a long period.” So to “abide” with someone is to live with them over the long haul, warts and all.
So how does Jesus prepare his followers for the difficulty to come? He tells them to abide in him, and he in them – to let his life enter their lives, and to let their lives be part of his life. He tells them to abide – to continue, to endure, to live in Jesus, and to allow Jesus to live in them. And to put up with the hardship that would come with the decision to abide. And Jesus would do the same, would hang in there with them, warts and all.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ metaphor for abiding is the metaphor of the vine – Jesus says “I am the vine, you are the branches.” The branches abide in the vine – draw their sustenance from it – and the vine lives in the branches – the branches fulfill the purpose of the vine by bringing forth fruit. There’s a mutual, indeed, inseparable relationship – how do you tell where the vine stops and the branches start. And this is Jesus’ metaphor for his followers – those with him them, and for us as well. Mutual, inseparable relationship – in our lives, not being able to tell where Jesus leaves off and we pick up, because we and Jesus are so bound up in each other. The “vine and branches” metaphor is familiar, because even if we don’t have a vineyard in our backyard – or even if we don’t have a backyard, for that matter, we know what happens to a branch that’s cut out of a tree, or to lawn clippings that are left on a lawn. They wither. They dry up. You don’t cut a branch off an apple tree and expect it to go on sprouting new apples. You don’t cut the grass and expect the clippings to start growing. Separated from the main plant, an individual branch literally can do nothing. And it’s like that for us. Without being fed by the Word, without drawing strength from worshipping together, without allowing time and space in our lives for the Spirit to speak in us and move in us, our spiritual life eventually dries up, and all our efforts for good come to nothing. But if we allow ourselves to be fed spiritually, there’s no stopping us in our efforts to bear fruit – as Jesus says, fruit that will last.
When we face difficulties, God’s word for us is – abide. Abide. Hang in there. Keep on keeping on. Most of all, keep on keeping on abiding in Christ, so that we don’t become overwhelmed with bitterness and cynicism – don’t find our spirits dried up – but find ourselves sustained by God’s grace even through the worst of bad times.
One Flock
As a new pastor, I haven’t been doing this long enough to have learned the various “in-jokes” common among pastors, but pastors definitely have their own culture of jokes and funnies, which leads to wall-hangings and knick-knacks that appeal primarily to pastors while leaving others scratching their heads. I particularly remember one I saw in the office of a former pastor. It had a picture of a sheep on it, with the words, “Get your sheep together.” I sometimes had the feeling that perhaps this was the church-approved version of what people tell me to do when I’m being more disorganized and scatterbrained than usual. Regardless of what that knick-knack may have meant, in the Gospel reading for May 3 (John 10:11-18) we see Jesus in the process of getting his sheep together. Here Jesus compares himself to a shepherd willing to lay down his life for the sheep entrusted to his care, as compared to the hireling who will run away at the first sign of trouble in order to live to fight another day.
If Jesus is comparing himself to a shepherd, then He is comparing we who follow Christ to sheep. And that’s a metaphor that does not play well in our culture. Our culture prizes individuality, strength, speed, charismatic leadership – and sheep have none of that. I did a quick internet search to see if I could find any sports team using the sheep as their mascot. While there are some teams with rams as mascots, I was almost ready to say I found none with a sheep mascot – even internationally – but I did find one - a children’s rugby team in the UK whose mascot is “Shaggy the Sheep”. The word “sheep” is used for both singular and plural – there isn’t even a separate singular form for the word sheep; when we hear the word, we automatically think of the plural – a flock of sheep. Sheep are prey animals, not predators – their instinct when threatened is to run, not fight. You likely won’t see a show on the Animal Planet channel titled “When Sheep Attack.” They also tend to herd together for safety They have very keen senses and can see or hear predators that are far away. And they have a high tolerance for pain.
Using the metaphor of sheep for the Christian community points to the fact that Christians are most healthy spiritually in community. John Wesley and Karl Barth are both quoted as saying that there’s no such thing as a solitary Christian. In the life of the early church, it was group activities – listening in community to the teaching of the apostles, fellowship, breaking of bread, prayers – that sustained a group that was frequently beset by persecution. Jesus calls himself the “good shepherd”, who knows his sheep and whose sheep know him. So while to those outside the flock, the sheep all look alike, the good shepherd knows each of his sheep, will protect his flock from harm, knows when one is missing, and indeed will go in search of the stray sheep until it is found. Of course, we frequently read these days about present-day pastors or shepherds who are not so good, about pastors who harm their flock. Some of these “bad shepherds” are like the hireling in Jesus’ comparison, only out to fleece their flocks, to take financial advantage of their gullibility – as in the case of some of the exposes of televangelists years back, when the prayer requests of the faithful were carelessly tossed into the dumpsters in back of the offices, while the checks were diligently cashed. And then there are the wolves in shepherds’ clothing, those who abuse or take advantage of their parishioners – or their children, those who through emotional abuse create division and disharmony in their congregations, even those who lead their flock to destruction, as Jim Jones did back in the ‘70’s.
Even aside from those within the church who mislead, we are drowning in voices from the wider culture trying to lead us in any number of directions. Buy this! Wear that! Vote for him! Support her charity! Our culture calls us in all sorts of directions, tries to get us to base our identity on all sorts of things – our possessions, our careers, our politics. Part of a faithful follower of Jesus then, is being able to sort through all the cultural noise to listen to the voice of the good shepherd, to gain our deepest, most basic sense of identity, not from possessions that’ll wear out or careers that will end some day or political parties that will disappoint, not even from our positions on controversial issues that some day will be resolved and personalities within the church who will someday go to be with their Lord, but from our relationship to Jesus, the Good Shepherd – our identity as part of the flock.
There’s that intriguing line in verse 16 – “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.” Here Jesus, in the words of my former pastor’s knick-knack, is getting his sheep together. In the context of John’s Gospel, this line would have been speaking of the Gentiles, those non-Jews who responded to Jesus, and indeed were responding to the teaching of the early church at the time John’s Gospel was written. For us today, the specific question that tied the early church up in knots – can Gentiles become Christians without first becoming Jews - is long-since resolved, but the broader issue of inclusion is very much with us, as it is with every generation. Who is welcome with us in church? Who is welcome with us at the Communion table? Do those who are different from us have to give themselves a sort of “extreme makeover” in order to look or act just like us before they can worship with us? We can read the reference to “other sheep” as a reference to any of the out-groups that are on the margins of our society, those who are beat like piñatas and blamed for America’s problems during every election cycle. Jesus has called and continues to call these “other sheep” to be part of the one flock, calls us to be hospitable to those who may not look like us, dress like us, talk like us, even worship like us, but nonetheless are beloved of God.
So our sense of who we are as Christians – our baptismal identity – child of God, disciple of Christ, member of Christ’s church – must be firm enough that we won’t forsake it for the other identities with which the culture will try to saddle us, and yet expansive enough to recognize those who are very different from us as fellow Christians – as children of God, disciples of Christ, members of Christ’s church – as members of the one flock that Jesus continues to form. Whom Jesus calls into the flock, may we welcome, and where Jesus leads, may we follow.
If Jesus is comparing himself to a shepherd, then He is comparing we who follow Christ to sheep. And that’s a metaphor that does not play well in our culture. Our culture prizes individuality, strength, speed, charismatic leadership – and sheep have none of that. I did a quick internet search to see if I could find any sports team using the sheep as their mascot. While there are some teams with rams as mascots, I was almost ready to say I found none with a sheep mascot – even internationally – but I did find one - a children’s rugby team in the UK whose mascot is “Shaggy the Sheep”. The word “sheep” is used for both singular and plural – there isn’t even a separate singular form for the word sheep; when we hear the word, we automatically think of the plural – a flock of sheep. Sheep are prey animals, not predators – their instinct when threatened is to run, not fight. You likely won’t see a show on the Animal Planet channel titled “When Sheep Attack.” They also tend to herd together for safety They have very keen senses and can see or hear predators that are far away. And they have a high tolerance for pain.
Using the metaphor of sheep for the Christian community points to the fact that Christians are most healthy spiritually in community. John Wesley and Karl Barth are both quoted as saying that there’s no such thing as a solitary Christian. In the life of the early church, it was group activities – listening in community to the teaching of the apostles, fellowship, breaking of bread, prayers – that sustained a group that was frequently beset by persecution. Jesus calls himself the “good shepherd”, who knows his sheep and whose sheep know him. So while to those outside the flock, the sheep all look alike, the good shepherd knows each of his sheep, will protect his flock from harm, knows when one is missing, and indeed will go in search of the stray sheep until it is found. Of course, we frequently read these days about present-day pastors or shepherds who are not so good, about pastors who harm their flock. Some of these “bad shepherds” are like the hireling in Jesus’ comparison, only out to fleece their flocks, to take financial advantage of their gullibility – as in the case of some of the exposes of televangelists years back, when the prayer requests of the faithful were carelessly tossed into the dumpsters in back of the offices, while the checks were diligently cashed. And then there are the wolves in shepherds’ clothing, those who abuse or take advantage of their parishioners – or their children, those who through emotional abuse create division and disharmony in their congregations, even those who lead their flock to destruction, as Jim Jones did back in the ‘70’s.
Even aside from those within the church who mislead, we are drowning in voices from the wider culture trying to lead us in any number of directions. Buy this! Wear that! Vote for him! Support her charity! Our culture calls us in all sorts of directions, tries to get us to base our identity on all sorts of things – our possessions, our careers, our politics. Part of a faithful follower of Jesus then, is being able to sort through all the cultural noise to listen to the voice of the good shepherd, to gain our deepest, most basic sense of identity, not from possessions that’ll wear out or careers that will end some day or political parties that will disappoint, not even from our positions on controversial issues that some day will be resolved and personalities within the church who will someday go to be with their Lord, but from our relationship to Jesus, the Good Shepherd – our identity as part of the flock.
There’s that intriguing line in verse 16 – “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.” Here Jesus, in the words of my former pastor’s knick-knack, is getting his sheep together. In the context of John’s Gospel, this line would have been speaking of the Gentiles, those non-Jews who responded to Jesus, and indeed were responding to the teaching of the early church at the time John’s Gospel was written. For us today, the specific question that tied the early church up in knots – can Gentiles become Christians without first becoming Jews - is long-since resolved, but the broader issue of inclusion is very much with us, as it is with every generation. Who is welcome with us in church? Who is welcome with us at the Communion table? Do those who are different from us have to give themselves a sort of “extreme makeover” in order to look or act just like us before they can worship with us? We can read the reference to “other sheep” as a reference to any of the out-groups that are on the margins of our society, those who are beat like piñatas and blamed for America’s problems during every election cycle. Jesus has called and continues to call these “other sheep” to be part of the one flock, calls us to be hospitable to those who may not look like us, dress like us, talk like us, even worship like us, but nonetheless are beloved of God.
So our sense of who we are as Christians – our baptismal identity – child of God, disciple of Christ, member of Christ’s church – must be firm enough that we won’t forsake it for the other identities with which the culture will try to saddle us, and yet expansive enough to recognize those who are very different from us as fellow Christians – as children of God, disciples of Christ, members of Christ’s church – as members of the one flock that Jesus continues to form. Whom Jesus calls into the flock, may we welcome, and where Jesus leads, may we follow.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
After Easter
“After [Jesus’] suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. (Acts 1:3-4a, NRSV)
We find ourselves in that “in-between” time of waiting between Christ’s resurrection and ascension. During the 40 days between the resurrection and ascension, Scripture records a number of appearances of Christ to his followers; among them are his appearances to the women at the tomb, to the two travelers on the Emmaus road (Luke 24:13-35), to his disciples huddled behind locked doors for fear of the religious authorities, and to Peter, Thomas, James, John, Nathanael, and other disciples by the Sea of Tiberias (John 20:19-30; John 21:1-23). These appearances are fleeting, and the Scriptures describing them convey a sense of transience, a sense that time is growing short, and that Jesus must use this limited time to prepare his followers to carry on the work of the Kingdom after Christ’s ascension. It’s a transitional period, during which the work of Jesus becomes the work of the early church. Jesus tells his followers to remain in Jerusalem. They would soon receive the Holy Spirit, and with the spirit would come the power to turn the world upside down with the power of the Gospel – but the Spirit had not yet come, and so they were to wait.
As followers of Jesus we frequently find ourselves steering a course between two false choices. One of these is to act in a spirit of religious triumphalism, to be so confident in the power of our own righteousness that we find no need to rely on the power that comes from God. That path leads to religious bigotry and persecution. The other false choice is to deny that God has given us any power at all, and therefore to be too timid to risk stepping outside the doors of the church to minister in God’s name to our neighbors. That path leads us to hide the light God has given us under a bushel, and to bury our God-given talents. We must avoid both these false choices, and follow the path of humble reliance on the strength God provides us each day. When we follow this path, we approach our neighbors, not as religious bullies using our presumed righteousness to beat them over the head, but as humble servants ministering to them in God’s name. For the light we bear comes not from us, but from God; it shines through us like bright sunlight shining through a stained glass window, creating beauty to inspire anyone with eyes to see it.
‘This,’ [Jesus] said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.’” (Acts 1:4b-5, NRSV)
We find ourselves in that “in-between” time of waiting between Christ’s resurrection and ascension. During the 40 days between the resurrection and ascension, Scripture records a number of appearances of Christ to his followers; among them are his appearances to the women at the tomb, to the two travelers on the Emmaus road (Luke 24:13-35), to his disciples huddled behind locked doors for fear of the religious authorities, and to Peter, Thomas, James, John, Nathanael, and other disciples by the Sea of Tiberias (John 20:19-30; John 21:1-23). These appearances are fleeting, and the Scriptures describing them convey a sense of transience, a sense that time is growing short, and that Jesus must use this limited time to prepare his followers to carry on the work of the Kingdom after Christ’s ascension. It’s a transitional period, during which the work of Jesus becomes the work of the early church. Jesus tells his followers to remain in Jerusalem. They would soon receive the Holy Spirit, and with the spirit would come the power to turn the world upside down with the power of the Gospel – but the Spirit had not yet come, and so they were to wait.
As followers of Jesus we frequently find ourselves steering a course between two false choices. One of these is to act in a spirit of religious triumphalism, to be so confident in the power of our own righteousness that we find no need to rely on the power that comes from God. That path leads to religious bigotry and persecution. The other false choice is to deny that God has given us any power at all, and therefore to be too timid to risk stepping outside the doors of the church to minister in God’s name to our neighbors. That path leads us to hide the light God has given us under a bushel, and to bury our God-given talents. We must avoid both these false choices, and follow the path of humble reliance on the strength God provides us each day. When we follow this path, we approach our neighbors, not as religious bullies using our presumed righteousness to beat them over the head, but as humble servants ministering to them in God’s name. For the light we bear comes not from us, but from God; it shines through us like bright sunlight shining through a stained glass window, creating beauty to inspire anyone with eyes to see it.
‘This,’ [Jesus] said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.’” (Acts 1:4b-5, NRSV)
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Peace Be With You!
Passion week has come and gone. We've read of the cheering crowds on Palm Sunday, that one last supper with our Saviour, the betrayal and desertion of Good Friday, and the Alleluias of Easter Sunday.
Now what? Where do we go from here?
In the weeks following the resurrection, the disciples - all of whom in their varied ways had deserted Jesus - asked the same question. Jesus lives! But what did that mean for the disciples? Would Jesus be angry? Would he hold their failure against them?
Jesus offered, not chastisement, but reconciliation. Christ's words, "Peace be with you" and "receive the Holy Spirit", his commissioning them and sending them out as messengers, were the very last words they deserved to hear, and the very words they most needed to hear.
Those words are not only for those disciples, but for us. Despite our own failings and evasions, Jesus never gives up on us. May we have ears to hear Christ's words of reconciliation and hands and feet to respond.
Now what? Where do we go from here?
In the weeks following the resurrection, the disciples - all of whom in their varied ways had deserted Jesus - asked the same question. Jesus lives! But what did that mean for the disciples? Would Jesus be angry? Would he hold their failure against them?
Jesus offered, not chastisement, but reconciliation. Christ's words, "Peace be with you" and "receive the Holy Spirit", his commissioning them and sending them out as messengers, were the very last words they deserved to hear, and the very words they most needed to hear.
Those words are not only for those disciples, but for us. Despite our own failings and evasions, Jesus never gives up on us. May we have ears to hear Christ's words of reconciliation and hands and feet to respond.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Chosen by God
Several years ago I had the great privilege to visit Rome for several days. Of course, I looked forward to seeing the Vatican, to touring the Sistine Chapel and the other Vatican galleries, and even to walking through excavations beneath the current Vatican, to sublayers that dated back to the time of Constantine, and even to a small marble enclosure that was said to contain the remains of the Apostle Peter. I actually got to see the current Pope, Benedict XVI – he was way up in a top floor window in the Vatican complex, looking down at the crowd in St. Peter’s Square – from his window he conducted the Angelus liturgy, and I heard him preach for a brief time and convey greetings in various languages, all amplified by the loudspeakers in St. Peter’s Square.
One other thing I looked forward to doing was – eating. Mangia! I enjoyed wonderful meals at a number of restaurants. Before my trip, friends had informed me that, in Italy, wait staff do not expect tips as they do here in the States. I kept that in mind for most of my visit – and I certainly didn’t object to being able to hang onto a bit more of my ever-dwindling stash of Euros - but at one restaurant I forgot myself and left a generous tip. After leaving the restaurant, I quickly returned to pick up a jacket I’d left behind….and found the manager and wait staff circling the table where I’d sat, my tip still on the table, as they gestured at it and earnestly discussed amongst themselves what to do with it. I wasn’t used to the customs of eating out in Italy, and they were flummoxed by my following the customs of tipping to which I’m accustomed.
Our Gospel reading today portrays the disciples and Mary Magdalene in a state of being flummoxed by God’s resurrection life, perhaps not entirely unlike my Italian wait staff was at my lapse of leaving a tip. Jesus – their rabbi, teacher, mentor, and dear friend – had just been executed in the most gruesome, degrading manner possible in that day. For Rome, crucifixion was not just about killing an individual enemy of the state, but also about terrorizing and intimidating sympathizers. The executed person was in effect turned into a gruesome billboard advertising Rome’s absolute power. Crucified with the words “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” above his head, the mutilated body of Christ was turned into a hideous public service announcement of sorts – “set yourself up as a rival to all-powerful Caesar, and you’ll end up on a cross just like this one.” The lifeless body of Jesus had been claimed by Joseph of Arimethea and laid in a tomb, and a large stone rolled in front, to keep away grave robbers and wild animals that might move or attack the body.
Mark’s version (Mark 16:1-8) of the Easter story reads as follows – it’s quite short: "When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. John’s Gospel (John 20:1-18) says that Mary Magdalene - Mark includes Mary the mother of James and Salome – go to the tomb early Sunday morning. Mark’s gospel says that the women came to bring spices to anoint the body, and were concerned that they might not be able to move the large stone. So far, all is going according to their customs for burial.
But now, from their point of view, the story goes off the rails. The women find themselves flummoxed, without a frame of reference for what happens next. The come to the tomb and find the stone rolled away, the tomb empty. Not unlike the waiters at whom I inadvertently threw a curve ball with my tip, the women don’t know what to do with an empty tomb. God had thrown them a curve ball. Mark’s Gospel has a young man in a white cloth – no doubt an angel – telling the women that Jesus has been raised, and to tell the disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee. According to Bible scholars, the earliest texts of Mark’s gospel end with the women fleeing in terror from their encounter with the angel in the empty tomb; any verses in Mark 16 that follow verse 8 are thought to be additions by later writers that attempted to bring the sense of closure that Mark’s original open ending lacks. John’s Gospel – written later - gives us more of a sense of completion – Mary calls Peter and the beloved disciple – traditionally thought to be the writer of John’s Gospel – who see the empty tomb…and go home. They weren’t sure what to do with God’s resurrection grace either. Mary lingers at the tomb, and encounters two angels and the Risen Christ himself, who tells her to tell the disciples of Jesus’ resurrection.
What do you do with an empty tomb? From our perspective, with the resurrection story so embedded in our culture – we know that Easter Sunday follows Good Friday as predictably as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West - it may be hard to imagine the absolute shock and terror and bafflement of that first Easter morning. Eventually all that will be transformed into the awe and wonder and adoration that has been passed down through the centuries to us, but I think we lose some of the impact of the story if we experience Easter Sunday as an uplifting but utterly predictable day on the liturgical calendar – complete with stained glass windows and lilies and organ music – and are made numb to the absolute unpredictability – the absolutely lost-for-words, no frame of reference experience - of God’s resurrection power in the lives of those first disciples.
I suspect we all go through experiences like those of the disciples. Tragic events, or perhaps our own sinful choices bring us to a place in which hope within us has died. We feel boxed in by our past. Our circumstances, or perhaps our past sin, loom before us like an immovable boulder. We feel trapped by the past inside a dark, airless tomb, shut out from the light of God’s love, from any hope of change for the better. Our expectations for the future are dismally low. At most, we hope that perhaps someone – a family member, a friend, a counselor, a therapist - can come to help us hang on a bit longer – so that our circumstances won’t get even worse - somewhat like the women coming with their spices for Jesus' lifeless body….the spices could offer only preservation, not resurrection.
The women came and found that God had rolled away the stone. God through Christ also rolls away the stones that stand between us and the resurrection life Christ offers. Christ calls each of us by name – Lazarus, come forth!….calls every man, woman and child by name out of our tombs of sin and loss and despair and hopelessness into the bright sunlight of God’s resurrection life, in which we walk in the sun to whatever tomorrows God grants us.In John’s version of the Easter story Mary stood outside the tomb, weeping. Mary’s tears blind her from recognizing the risen Jesus even when he’s talking to her – she thought he was the gardener. It was when Jesus called her by name – Mary – that she realizes who she’s talking to. She wants to hang onto the moment – who wouldn’t – but Jesus says, “Don’t hold onto me…go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”
Christ calls us by name out of our tombs of despair into the bright sunlight of the garden, but we’re not allowed to hang around for long. We’re called forth, not to linger in the garden, but to go to our brothers and sisters to witness to what we’ve experienced. In Peter’s words, we’re “chosen by God as witnesses…commanded to testify that Christ is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead, that everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.” So in gratitude let us be up and doing. May each of us be able to say, with the Apostle Paul, “By the grace of God, we are what we are, and God’s grace toward us has not been in vain.”
One other thing I looked forward to doing was – eating. Mangia! I enjoyed wonderful meals at a number of restaurants. Before my trip, friends had informed me that, in Italy, wait staff do not expect tips as they do here in the States. I kept that in mind for most of my visit – and I certainly didn’t object to being able to hang onto a bit more of my ever-dwindling stash of Euros - but at one restaurant I forgot myself and left a generous tip. After leaving the restaurant, I quickly returned to pick up a jacket I’d left behind….and found the manager and wait staff circling the table where I’d sat, my tip still on the table, as they gestured at it and earnestly discussed amongst themselves what to do with it. I wasn’t used to the customs of eating out in Italy, and they were flummoxed by my following the customs of tipping to which I’m accustomed.
Our Gospel reading today portrays the disciples and Mary Magdalene in a state of being flummoxed by God’s resurrection life, perhaps not entirely unlike my Italian wait staff was at my lapse of leaving a tip. Jesus – their rabbi, teacher, mentor, and dear friend – had just been executed in the most gruesome, degrading manner possible in that day. For Rome, crucifixion was not just about killing an individual enemy of the state, but also about terrorizing and intimidating sympathizers. The executed person was in effect turned into a gruesome billboard advertising Rome’s absolute power. Crucified with the words “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” above his head, the mutilated body of Christ was turned into a hideous public service announcement of sorts – “set yourself up as a rival to all-powerful Caesar, and you’ll end up on a cross just like this one.” The lifeless body of Jesus had been claimed by Joseph of Arimethea and laid in a tomb, and a large stone rolled in front, to keep away grave robbers and wild animals that might move or attack the body.
Mark’s version (Mark 16:1-8) of the Easter story reads as follows – it’s quite short: "When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. John’s Gospel (John 20:1-18) says that Mary Magdalene - Mark includes Mary the mother of James and Salome – go to the tomb early Sunday morning. Mark’s gospel says that the women came to bring spices to anoint the body, and were concerned that they might not be able to move the large stone. So far, all is going according to their customs for burial.
But now, from their point of view, the story goes off the rails. The women find themselves flummoxed, without a frame of reference for what happens next. The come to the tomb and find the stone rolled away, the tomb empty. Not unlike the waiters at whom I inadvertently threw a curve ball with my tip, the women don’t know what to do with an empty tomb. God had thrown them a curve ball. Mark’s Gospel has a young man in a white cloth – no doubt an angel – telling the women that Jesus has been raised, and to tell the disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee. According to Bible scholars, the earliest texts of Mark’s gospel end with the women fleeing in terror from their encounter with the angel in the empty tomb; any verses in Mark 16 that follow verse 8 are thought to be additions by later writers that attempted to bring the sense of closure that Mark’s original open ending lacks. John’s Gospel – written later - gives us more of a sense of completion – Mary calls Peter and the beloved disciple – traditionally thought to be the writer of John’s Gospel – who see the empty tomb…and go home. They weren’t sure what to do with God’s resurrection grace either. Mary lingers at the tomb, and encounters two angels and the Risen Christ himself, who tells her to tell the disciples of Jesus’ resurrection.
What do you do with an empty tomb? From our perspective, with the resurrection story so embedded in our culture – we know that Easter Sunday follows Good Friday as predictably as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West - it may be hard to imagine the absolute shock and terror and bafflement of that first Easter morning. Eventually all that will be transformed into the awe and wonder and adoration that has been passed down through the centuries to us, but I think we lose some of the impact of the story if we experience Easter Sunday as an uplifting but utterly predictable day on the liturgical calendar – complete with stained glass windows and lilies and organ music – and are made numb to the absolute unpredictability – the absolutely lost-for-words, no frame of reference experience - of God’s resurrection power in the lives of those first disciples.
I suspect we all go through experiences like those of the disciples. Tragic events, or perhaps our own sinful choices bring us to a place in which hope within us has died. We feel boxed in by our past. Our circumstances, or perhaps our past sin, loom before us like an immovable boulder. We feel trapped by the past inside a dark, airless tomb, shut out from the light of God’s love, from any hope of change for the better. Our expectations for the future are dismally low. At most, we hope that perhaps someone – a family member, a friend, a counselor, a therapist - can come to help us hang on a bit longer – so that our circumstances won’t get even worse - somewhat like the women coming with their spices for Jesus' lifeless body….the spices could offer only preservation, not resurrection.
The women came and found that God had rolled away the stone. God through Christ also rolls away the stones that stand between us and the resurrection life Christ offers. Christ calls each of us by name – Lazarus, come forth!….calls every man, woman and child by name out of our tombs of sin and loss and despair and hopelessness into the bright sunlight of God’s resurrection life, in which we walk in the sun to whatever tomorrows God grants us.In John’s version of the Easter story Mary stood outside the tomb, weeping. Mary’s tears blind her from recognizing the risen Jesus even when he’s talking to her – she thought he was the gardener. It was when Jesus called her by name – Mary – that she realizes who she’s talking to. She wants to hang onto the moment – who wouldn’t – but Jesus says, “Don’t hold onto me…go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”
Christ calls us by name out of our tombs of despair into the bright sunlight of the garden, but we’re not allowed to hang around for long. We’re called forth, not to linger in the garden, but to go to our brothers and sisters to witness to what we’ve experienced. In Peter’s words, we’re “chosen by God as witnesses…commanded to testify that Christ is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead, that everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.” So in gratitude let us be up and doing. May each of us be able to say, with the Apostle Paul, “By the grace of God, we are what we are, and God’s grace toward us has not been in vain.”
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Everyone Loves A Parade?
Today we begin our Holy Week pilgrimage with Jesus to the cross. For the season of Lent, we have walked with Jesus through his earthly ministry, as he taught and healed and fed the multitudes. We have walked with Jesus as he was both adored and misunderstood by the crowds, and as he aroused both curiosity and rejection among the religious authorities. Today we begin the Holy Week journey: from the acclamation of the crowds to the plotting of the religious authorities, to a last supper with his followers, the betrayal by Judas, the desertion of the disciples, and the final walk to Golgotha. And as we look on Palm Sunday from our perspective, we see multiple layers of meaning and experience mixed emotions. The week begins with a parade, but we know there’s another type of procession coming on Friday.
Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Mark 11:1-11) had similarities to those of other national figures. The writer Josephus records the Jewish hero Judas Maccabeus riding triumphantly into Jerusalem after battles for Jewish independence. By contrast, foreign rulers also rode into Jerusalem as a way to assert their authority. So Jesus’ entrance would have held political overtones for those watching.
For Jewish viewers, there would have been prophetic overtones as well. Our Old Testament reading this morning was from the prophet Zechariah. The first eight chapters of Zechariah are concerned with the rebuilding and restoration of the Temple in the time of Zerubbabel, after the return from exile. But from the 9th chapter on, the book transitions into a series of prophetic visions about the coming Day of the Lord. It seems that Zechariah saw the rebuilding of the Temple as the beginning of a transformation of the entire world, in which Judah would be saved from her enemies, and those who had formerly battled against Judah would come up to Jerusalem to worship the Lord. And the setup for Jesus’ entry echoes Zechariah’s words. Zechariah 14:4 begins with the words, “On that day [the Lord’s] feet will stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem to the east….” Mark tells us that Jesus began his approach from the Mount of Olives. Jesus also rides on a young colt, in accordance to today’s Zechariah reading. The crowds would have known these prophecies of Zechariah, and would have put their hopes in Jesus.
Zechariah’s visions go a good bit further, and explain why the crowds would have look in Jesus as an earthly ruler seeking to free the Jews from Roman rule. Today’s reading also contains these words: “His dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth.” As Christians, we know that God’s kingdom does indeed extend to the ends of the earth, but not in the sense the crowds expected.
The ending of the account of the triumphal entry isn’t what the crowds would have expected either. Having rode in triumph down Jerusalem’s main street, with crowds cheering and shouting “Save us!” – that’s what Hosanna means - and casting their palm branches and clothes in his way – not unlike spectators at a rock concert – Jesus…..went into the Temple, took a look around, and went with the disciples to spend the night with friends in Bethany. His relations with the religious establishment in Jerusalem went straight downhill from there. Far from taking on the Roman oppressors, Jesus took on the Jewish religious leaders, throwing the money changers out of the Temple and speaking harshly against their leadership. By contrast, he gave an ambiguous answer to a question about the propriety of paying taxes to Caesar. What kind of national liberator was this?
As happens so often, in Jesus, God’s promises were being fulfilled, but not in the way people expected. People were eager for a national hero, another Judas Maccabeus fighting against Rome for Jewish independence. What they got was the God of all creation bringing liberation from sin and establishment of God’s kingdom on earth.
This can be a caution for us who read this story from our perspective after the resurrection. We sincerely seek for God’s help and guidance, but we have limited ideas of how God may respond We want something big, something bombastic, some unmistakeable sign that indicates that God is with us. But paradoxically, while God’s plans are always bigger than ours, God’s methods are often small and slow and subtle. We look for God in the earthquake and the windstorm, but find God in the still small voice. Nowhere did Jesus say, “the kingdom of heaven is like unto a sledgehammer.” Rather, Jesus gave us parables about seeds growing in secret, about tiny mustard seeds slowly growing into big giant bushes, about tiny bits of yeast leavening a loaf. We receive teachings that a seed has to go into the ground and die in order to bring forth new life. And in Jesus, we get, not a general leading a mighty army, but God in the form of a humble servant so committed to accomplishing God’s purposes that he was willing to submit to death, even to death on a cross.
Of course, this side of the cross, we know that for Jesus, life, not death, has the last word; that crucifixion gives way to resurrection. We hope that for ourselves as well. But so often in our moments of challenge and loss, hope deserts us. We give in to despair. But God has promised that he will never leave us nor forsake us. Through the darkest night, God is working God’s purpose out, for us and for his kingdom. If we are faithful to God’s call, we’ll find that each of us has a cross to bear. In our most difficult moments, we may get some slight sense of what Jesus went through on Good Friday. But remember, no matter what happens on Friday – Sunday’s coming. Amen.
Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Mark 11:1-11) had similarities to those of other national figures. The writer Josephus records the Jewish hero Judas Maccabeus riding triumphantly into Jerusalem after battles for Jewish independence. By contrast, foreign rulers also rode into Jerusalem as a way to assert their authority. So Jesus’ entrance would have held political overtones for those watching.
For Jewish viewers, there would have been prophetic overtones as well. Our Old Testament reading this morning was from the prophet Zechariah. The first eight chapters of Zechariah are concerned with the rebuilding and restoration of the Temple in the time of Zerubbabel, after the return from exile. But from the 9th chapter on, the book transitions into a series of prophetic visions about the coming Day of the Lord. It seems that Zechariah saw the rebuilding of the Temple as the beginning of a transformation of the entire world, in which Judah would be saved from her enemies, and those who had formerly battled against Judah would come up to Jerusalem to worship the Lord. And the setup for Jesus’ entry echoes Zechariah’s words. Zechariah 14:4 begins with the words, “On that day [the Lord’s] feet will stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem to the east….” Mark tells us that Jesus began his approach from the Mount of Olives. Jesus also rides on a young colt, in accordance to today’s Zechariah reading. The crowds would have known these prophecies of Zechariah, and would have put their hopes in Jesus.
Zechariah’s visions go a good bit further, and explain why the crowds would have look in Jesus as an earthly ruler seeking to free the Jews from Roman rule. Today’s reading also contains these words: “His dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth.” As Christians, we know that God’s kingdom does indeed extend to the ends of the earth, but not in the sense the crowds expected.
The ending of the account of the triumphal entry isn’t what the crowds would have expected either. Having rode in triumph down Jerusalem’s main street, with crowds cheering and shouting “Save us!” – that’s what Hosanna means - and casting their palm branches and clothes in his way – not unlike spectators at a rock concert – Jesus…..went into the Temple, took a look around, and went with the disciples to spend the night with friends in Bethany. His relations with the religious establishment in Jerusalem went straight downhill from there. Far from taking on the Roman oppressors, Jesus took on the Jewish religious leaders, throwing the money changers out of the Temple and speaking harshly against their leadership. By contrast, he gave an ambiguous answer to a question about the propriety of paying taxes to Caesar. What kind of national liberator was this?
As happens so often, in Jesus, God’s promises were being fulfilled, but not in the way people expected. People were eager for a national hero, another Judas Maccabeus fighting against Rome for Jewish independence. What they got was the God of all creation bringing liberation from sin and establishment of God’s kingdom on earth.
This can be a caution for us who read this story from our perspective after the resurrection. We sincerely seek for God’s help and guidance, but we have limited ideas of how God may respond We want something big, something bombastic, some unmistakeable sign that indicates that God is with us. But paradoxically, while God’s plans are always bigger than ours, God’s methods are often small and slow and subtle. We look for God in the earthquake and the windstorm, but find God in the still small voice. Nowhere did Jesus say, “the kingdom of heaven is like unto a sledgehammer.” Rather, Jesus gave us parables about seeds growing in secret, about tiny mustard seeds slowly growing into big giant bushes, about tiny bits of yeast leavening a loaf. We receive teachings that a seed has to go into the ground and die in order to bring forth new life. And in Jesus, we get, not a general leading a mighty army, but God in the form of a humble servant so committed to accomplishing God’s purposes that he was willing to submit to death, even to death on a cross.
Of course, this side of the cross, we know that for Jesus, life, not death, has the last word; that crucifixion gives way to resurrection. We hope that for ourselves as well. But so often in our moments of challenge and loss, hope deserts us. We give in to despair. But God has promised that he will never leave us nor forsake us. Through the darkest night, God is working God’s purpose out, for us and for his kingdom. If we are faithful to God’s call, we’ll find that each of us has a cross to bear. In our most difficult moments, we may get some slight sense of what Jesus went through on Good Friday. But remember, no matter what happens on Friday – Sunday’s coming. Amen.
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