Wow, Jesus Was Here

One of my favorite pictures circulating is a photograph of a supermarket clearly not in PA because there is alcohol being sold. But it shows a shelf where the sign above it says “Water” but on the shelf are endless bottles of wine. And the caption of the picture is “Jesus was here.”

It’s tempting today to focus upon the mechanics of how the water becomes wine. Or even just that this story reveals Jesus’ power to perform this miracle, which it does. But here, in the gospel of John, it’s helpful to remember that after the opening of telling us that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, we hear that Jesus has come to show us “grace upon grace.” One gracious gift after another. That beyond the gift of the law, Jesus has come to make the fullness of God known. And  after calling disciples, the first place we see Jesus is at a wedding.

Most of you know that I am planning our daughter’s wedding. Weddings can be a  huge social event that calls everyone to be there. And I for one would like to return to Jesus’ day where it was the GROOM’S family that hosts the party.
The tradition was not that you invited your closest. You invited everyone. Imagine having to host this whole Valley. According to tradition in Jesus’ day the family is to provide enough food and beverage for everyone, EVERYone- for a week. Imagine hosting this whole Valley for a week.

But here we are the disaster strikes as the wine is running out. So what happens? Has the family planned poorly? Tradition says the guests were supposed to send wine ahead for the feast. Have the guests been stingy? We hear that many alre already drunk from the steward. Have some been overindulging without thinking of others? Then again, maybe Jesus has something to do with the problem.
Jesus has only a couple days before called Nathanael and Andrew and Simon Peter and Phillip. And yes, they were invited but you know how sometimes you hear of last minute people you have to invite even if you didn’t want to? Maybe Jesus was supposed to be a solo guest or maybe a “plus one” but then he met Andrew and Simon and Phillip and Nathanael and they ALL went to the wedding. He clearly exceeded his “plus one?” Maybe Mary is telling Jesus, “Now LOOK!” Well, we don’t know.

What we DO know is that when the glasses are empty, the party’s over.
Imagine the groom’s family announcing that it is unexpectedly “last call.” They will be ashamed, perhaps even angry. They have the taste of bitterness in their mouths. And the servants are flustered and scared. They know the taste of fear. And the taste that will stay in everyone’s mouth will be disappointment and shame.

Then imagine the commotion of filling those jars, each the size of this trash can, but stone. Not with a water faucet but filling buckets at the well and hauling them up and hauling those jars back and trying to do it quickly- how exhausting! And what if this is all just a mess? How many times on the way to the well, and with each bucket and hauling these ridiculously heavy jars back do you think the servants thought, “are you out of your ever lovin’ mind?!” Can’t we just do a couple jars?

Kind of like how we might feel sometimes somewhere between listening to God and the end result. A couple jars ought to be enough, you know? I mean, really. And in the midst of those thoughts of shame and anger, bitterness, fear- is division.

What happens next demonstrates certainly Jesus’ power, but even more I think it shows a deeper glimpse again of God’s heart. Extravagant, abundant, joyous.
In the face of the prospect of no more shouts of “here’s to the bride and groom!” Just when it looks like devastation- celebration! Unifying joy!
Did you notice that after the water becomes wine there are no divisions?
Grace- Exceeding all hopes- not just some average cheap wine, the best! Not just enough for this day or even this wedding, but for weeks! Imagine the reputation of the family who goes from the brink of shame to the family that blessed the whole Valley this way! The bitter taste of humiliation and anger and shame and fear becomes the sweetness of celebration and blessing beyond compare.The exhaustion of the effort melts away.
Grace upon grace.

Each gospel begins with some moment of Jesus’ ministry- the gospel of John opens with this wedding. The gospel has begun by proclaiming that from God’s fullness we ALL receive “one gracious gift after another.” Grace upon grace. Abundant, extravagant, joyous grace.
And here is the first sign of this God- Jesus at the wedding. With grace flowing freely for everyone, EVERYONE! No portion control, no guest list. EVERYONE.
The best feast EVER!
Grace- a sign so we might come to believe.

Interestingly enough the last sign Jesus shared with his disciples comes after the resurrection is the same. The disciples have seen Jesus and received the Holy Spirit, yet they have gone their ways, and the guys are back to fishing. And they are there and all night they caught nothing. Jesus, in the midst of their frustration, and perhaps fear and humiliation- no fish in sight- tells them to put the net in again. And they do what he says. Perhaps thinking- Are you out of your ever lovin’mind?! But they listen and before they know it they can barely haul it in. Grace upon grace. And they remember how he makes them one.
And there will all that fish,  then  he tells them to feed and care for others like that.
To bring grace into the world so that others might know Christ and know our extravagant, abundant and joyous God.
Jesus’ shows us that this grace transforms the world as we think we see it .
Changes people as we think we know them.
That just when you think it is too big of an “ask” or that we’re not up to the task, grace intervenes.
Just when you feel overwhelmed, grace intervenes
Just when you think You are not enough or there is nothing more, grace intervenes.
And each time, God uses people like ordinary people those servants at the wedding, like the disciples, like you and I.  And when we listen, extraordinary life changing happens.
How might God be calling you and me, each of us to “grace” the world around us?
What signs might God show through us?
May the Spirit guide us so that when we have been somewhere on God’s command,  people might see grace and say, “Wow, Jesus was here!”

Exposed Yet Loved

When my girls were babies I used to love to give them baths. To marvel at their fingers and toes- pink and beautiful. And babies love their feet. They enjoy looking at them as much as we do. They are a source of joy. Sometime after that though, I am not sure when, we stop thinking that. We learn to think of our feet as something to be covered up, not exposed. Something for which we need props. Even the bravest of us get pedicures. Feet are somehow not beautiful.

And so when we hear that Jesus washed feet on the last night with the disciples, I wonder how many of us would be in the church today if the way we remembered Jesus each week was to wash feet?

Yet here we are with this lesson, and every year for the past three I have preached on it. Maybe some day we’ll wash feet. But not tonight.

We hear that Jesus gathered the disciples for a meal and for conversations and that he loved them to the end. And he is entirely in control.

And slowly, he took of his robe and all the things that identified him as a Rabbi and a Teacher and a Leader. Set them aside. And there he is, wearing only a towel and holding a basin of water.

And he begins, kneeling and crawling, from person to person and washing their feet. And it’s odd and uncomfortable. And we can’t imagine.

It’s odd and uncomfortable. And yet Jesus knew where their feet had been. Those feet were dirty and calloused, perhaps scratched in places. Walking without the best footwear, and walking on the paths animals also trod. And animals do what they do- and the feet bear it- dirty, damaged and stinky feet.

And he goes to person after person. And maybe deep down we even want to say, “Get up, Jesus!” We don’t want this.

As beautiful as it is that tonight we are celebrating 6 kids making first holy communion, and it is beautiful, we want communion, and Easter! Not Holy Week and washing feet.

Like Peter we want to say- no way! Yet Jesus loved them to the last.

To the very last one. Even Judas had his feet washed. Be still. This is for you. Even though you don’t understand it.

In humility and service, in love and intimacy, Jesus loved. Showing there was nothing that stood between us and God’s love.

He loved who we are- people uncomfortable in our skin.

He loved people knowing where there feet had already been- the times the feet had walked away in argument,

the times the disciples said they would do something and then didn’t.

The time feet walked to a meeting to agree to betray for 30 pieces of silver.

Those feet were cleansed.

As Jesus keeps showing intimate, no holds barred love.

Knowing where the feet will go. Yet saying- you belong to me.

And you belong to each other through me.

And the message for us as ever is that we are exposed, but we are loved.

It’s a gift we almost don’t want- we don’t want to be that known and exposed. And yet, it’s the gift we most desperately need- to be renewed and cleansed by real intimate love.

Sacrificial love.

A love that challenges everything in us and yet is whole hearted.

This is what we long for, isn’t it? Isn’t this why we are here?

To experience THIS love?

God knows us- we are exposed. Yet loved. God loves the real us.

It is uncomfortable, and sorrowful, and leaves us in humbled awe, and hopefully joy.

This is the love we are then challenged and empowered to share.

 

Love one another like this.

This love- This is Christ for us, Christ with us.

Still.

AMEN

 

The Temptation of Indifference

Today I read not only the appointed lesson for the day, but went back and read chapter 1 of the Gospel of Mark, from the beginning, through verse 15.

I took us all the way back to the beginning of Mark which is really only eight verses before.  Mark is the action packed gospel- we hear it’s the beginning of the good news and the next thing you know, Jesus is at the Jordan being baptized by John. And that was the reading on my first Sunday with you. Today we hear about the baptism again as Jesus is then sent into the wilderness. And as I read the lesson I thought, “well, we’ve already heard about that baptism and we really don’t need to do that again.” And as soon as I say it though, I wonder if that is our thought about baptism. That we, already baptized have already done that. And then I think about my stole for Lent which not only has purple and black and crosses, it has that third color, the blue. That blue represents baptism and I think it’s so important, it’s in my stole.

And so we really should talk about baptism again. Mark has such intensity about Jesus’ mission and purpose. And when Jesus comes to be baptized, we don’t hear that God the Father just kind of saunters by and says, “Oh, by the way, he’s going to be important.” No! We hear that the heavens are RIPPED OPEN and that the Holy Spirit descends in the form of something like a dove. And doesn’t just hover, but enters Jesus.  God is invasive and intrusive in the world and in us. Life altering!

And I wonder how many of us have thought about our baptism THAT way- that God “invades us” and dwells in us in that kind of life-altering way?

In the days of early Christians, there were men and women who went out to lives as hermits in the wilderness. They purposely chose to imitate Jesus in the wilderness in a life altering way. They were called the desert mothers and fathers. They wrote very insightful things about human nature and challenges in the wilderness. They had the time, and were removed from everything else. The thing about the wilderness, being alone though was, when they were mad, it was their anger and the wilderness.

When they were sad, it was their sadness and the wilderness. And in reading some of what they wrote, they chronicled the various temptations of life, which made me think even more about what Jesus must have experienced in the wilderness. The loneliness, the fatigue, the hunger, the thirst, the doubts. In a place people saw as the most dangerous place around.

But of all the temptations, hunger, thirst, fatigue, these weren’t the greatest according to the desert dwellers. The greatest was another, called “Acedia.” Indifference. They called it the noonday demon- somewhere between the beginning and end you just lose interest altogether. As one New York Times writer noted this feeling “is not a relic of the fourth century or a hang-up of some weird Christian monks but also a modern force that easily attaches” to us.   With the overburdened schedules. While we seem so busy, as we do more, we commit less and less. Think of the ways we allow our “schedule” to alter our living.

As it turns out, Pope Francis, in this year’s Lenten address spoke to this very thing-perhaps the greatest temptation of our age: “Indifference to our neighbor and to God also represents a real temptation for us Christians. Each year during Lent we need to hear once more the voice of the prophets who cry out and trouble our conscience.” Because of our networks and distractions, he described the phenomenon he calls the globalization of indifference, Francis writes that “whenever our interior life becomes caught up in its own interests and concerns, there is no longer room for others, no place for the poor. God’s voice is no longer heard, the quiet joy of his love is no longer felt, and the desire to do good fades.”



He continues that, “We end up being incapable of feeling compassion at the outcry of the poor, weeping for other people’s pain, and feeling a need to help them, as though all this were someone else’s responsibility and not our own.” And maybe we even convince ourselves that God is pretty indifferent too. After all, why are there so many struggles and troubles? It reminds me a of cartoon series “Coffee with Jesus” where Jesus is having coffee with a woman who asks why there are so many destructive things happening in the world, and Jesus, coffee cup in hand smirks and replies, “I was going to ask you the same question.”

Indifference is a temptation. The forces of evil are counting upon our belief that nothing will really change.

But the gospel is that Jesus comes to challenge such a world. God has ripped apart the heavens. The Spirit descends and enters. The gospel breaks in with life altering promise!

This is amazingly good news in all our places that seem that the world can’t change or wilderness exists. Since God has invaded and altered the world- it’s not the world we think we see. There is difference. Not indifference. When we turn away from indifference, when we fast from it, then we can feast on God’s love.

Now all battles with evil are altered-the game is changed because God is present. And it comes back to baptism- where we hear we become part of God’s family and mission. And it’s about more than just assuring our salvation as in eternity with God some day. Luther taught that baptism is necessary for salvation- this we believe. What about those not baptized? Will they be saved some day? Is that the only way God will save people? As important for this life I believe, is that baptism is necessary for salvation in this life- that every day we know life, share community and healing, and forgiveness and know we don’t stand alone. God is present and providing and redefining. And today Karlie, who is up here being absolutely adorable, enters this life- baptism is a life changing journey with God.

This weekend some of our youth, years beyond their baptism are experiencing this. They are at Youth Quake and the theme is ReDefine. Being followers of Jesus redefines and alters us- who we think we are and what we can do. This is the change in our conscience we hear of in 1 Peter.  We are changed and given the gift and challenge of serving others. No matter how young we are- no matter who we are. This weekend the youth are packing food for the hungry.

And here we are collecting for Baskets of Promise. These things challenge the world as it seems. Even in something as small as the soap we gather. Because when you are in a wilderness like a refugee camp, a simple bar of soap reminds you that you are human and you are not alone, you are loved.

This is what we can share, living out our baptism as not just once and done- but continually being reshaped in the story that God is here. And in us. This overcomes evil and that great temptation- the myth that tells us God isn’t really present and so we don’t need to care either. It’s exposed. Even in the most challenging place, even when God seems silent, without any doubt, God is present in it all.

So here’s the thing- may we continue to be redefined by this God and in how we respond to the challenges, and may we resist the urge to sacrifice the promises of community in Christ. Let’s bust the myth.

The God Who See Us Whole

I will give thanks to God with my whole heart- Psalm 111. Whenever I have seen this phrase, I so often think of it as speaking about the force of our commitment. But I was reading from Jan Richardson’s work on the Painted Prayerbook which is one of the online devotional sites I utilize. Richardson sadly lost her husband a little more than a year ago, and she has been focusing upon how her life is altered and yet how God is rebuilding her. She approaches this week’s lessons with a question that caught my attention. She asks about wholeness in a different sense. The sense where sometimes our hearts don’t feel whole. That there is in some way a sense of incompleteness, and then encountering the lessons as offering a view of God’s wholeness into those un- whole places. So here’s the question-Where might we instead of having whole hearts, have instead, a hole, that keeps us incomplete?

Perhaps we are falling prey for example to what Deuteronomy warns against- believing that some false god is our source of completeness. There are a lot of those to choose from. Food, possessions, activities, work, and more. What might we be hoping will fill that space? Sometimes each of us has that feeling.

The singer Jewel wrote a song called “A Hole in my Heart.” Part of the lyrics say, “There’s a hole in my heart, and I carry it wherever I go.. it travels with me down every road. There’s a longing, lonesome and deep, kind of bitter, kind of sweet. Time stealing swiftly, children having children of their own, and around life’s merry go round goes, and there you are wanting what you cannot hold.”

If this day, you are wrestling with a hole in your heart, perhaps it’s hard to imagine a wholehearted cry of thanksgiving. Yet here you are, and our calling in Christ is to help you find wholeness

But to complicate life, Paul tells us that while we are often trying to fill our own sense of what makes everything right, we must be mindful that individual choices have consequences for the health of the whole community. Maybe the hole we want to fill is the church just “perfect” while someone else is finding that desire to be a stumbling block to community. There you are, wanting what you cannot hold. Yet it is here that we are met by Jesus.

In our gospel today we hear of Jesus’ encounter with the man possessed. I’m not here to talk about what exactly was possessing the man and speculate about what it was. Because, more importantly is what possession looked like. And it is just as true that we all, are possessed by things that keep community and wholeness at bay. Here comes this man into a place called the synagogue. That word’s very meaning is people drawn together. But he’s been unable to be there. Imagine that man, seen by those around him as unable to be whole, told he cannot be whole-not physically, or in community. Imagine believing that you can never be whole.

And in one sense we can’t be whole if we are relying upon our power to achieve the wholeness, to fill the void, or heal a breach.

Yet, each of these passages shows us something of the wholeness in which God created us, and is working out within us. And each shows us that actions speak louder than words. We are drawn to acknowledge the liberation Christ brings us. And that only Christ can bring. That’s the last line in Jewel’s song- There’s a hole in my heart in the shape of you. There’s a hole in us that only God can fill. Maybe that’s the song we can sing to God. Whole heartedly. There’s a hole that only you can fill, God. The good news is that God wants to fill it. And that this is more than just words. It has to be more than words because otherwise we leave here just the same.

Jesus teaching in the temple happens in a way that shows he is something more. But it is when he liberates a man from what has denied him wholeness that we see God’s words come to life. This is what amazes people- a glimpse of God’s power that is more than just words. That the forces of separation cannot possess Jesus. And in our midst he shows that God’s desire, rooted in love is that they not separate and possess us either. This is what God is building in us and through us.

So perhaps the question that the gospel asks this day is: How might it be to open your heart—no matter how broken—to the One who sees you whole?

And then- How might it be to open your heart to someone who also has a hole? And help them see Christ

Our actions and words can perpetuate isolation and despair or center others in Christ who is our salvation. We gather here to believe and to share the glimpses of “what it means to have a whole heart, to live in a way that recognizes that, broken though we may be, God sees us complete and is about the work of helping us live into that completeness, not just for ourselves but for and with one another.”

That’s amazingly good news for all of us! So I close with the poem written by Richardson- Blessing for a Whole Heart

You think
if you could just
imagine it,
that would be a beginning;
that if you could envision
what it would look like,
that would be a step
toward a heart
made whole.

This blessing
is for when
you cannot imagine.
This is for when
it is difficult to dream
of what could lie beyond
the fracture, the rupture, the cleaving through which
has come a life
you do not recognize
as your own.

When all that inhabits you
feels foreign,
your heart made strange
and beating a broken
and unfamiliar cadence,
let there come
a word of solace,
a voice that speaks
into the shattering,

reminding you
that who you are
is here,
every shard
somehow holding
the whole of you
that you cannot see
but is taking shape
even now,
piece joining to piece
in an ancient,
remembered rhythm

that bears you
not toward restoration,
not toward return—
as if you could somehow
become unchanged—
but steadily deeper
into the heart of the one
who has already dreamed you

complete

How Full is Your Lamp?

Just before worship started, I was talking with someone about the modern understanding of the word, “Gospel.” Oftentimes today it is interpreted as “good news” and it is, and yet that good news is seen as being words that affirm and uplift us and tell us we’re ok. Yet sometimes, the other function of the gospel is to speak truth- a truth perhaps we need to hear, spoken in love but not comforting. If you came to church today expecting warmth and comfort from the lessons- Sorry.

This past Wednesday I asked the folks at Table Church to sit and wait for a minute. I’d like us to do that as well.

You all did pretty well, but the truth is many of us don’t like to wait. Including your pastor who as you noticed checked her watch pretty often. On Wednesday, about halfway through many were starting to fidget, and at the end of the minute a couple kids commented on how hard waiting is, especially without Xbox or something. And I suspect a couple adults were wondering what would happen to that hot food if the pastor was going to make us wait. That minute felt long. Waiting can be hard.

"What will we do while we wait?” is the question Matthew’s gospel is addressing today. We’re waiting for Jesus to return- much longer than Matthew's original hearers.

SO what should we learn today? HAVE ENOUGH OIL.

While that seems like something to do, I want to suggest that it is not just about cornering the market on something. The oil is not the kind we watch the news to see if prices are up or down. Literally it’s Olive oil. Perhaps you hadn’t thought this but, literally, the answer to, "What shall we do while we wait?" is "Make sure you have enough oil for your lamps."

In an age of electricity, where we no longer need to put oil in lamps, what can that mean?

The five foolish bridesmaids ran out of it and the five wise ones had enough to go the distance. But what does the oil represent?

Martin Luther thought it represented faith- don’t run out of faith. I don’t agree with Luther. Because Faith comes from God- can you run out of faith if God is the provider?

Others think that the oil represents good works. Don’t stop doing good works.  But then what of grace? Imagine the frenzy of last minute good deeds- that seems to suggest if we do enough, we earn it. I’m not sure good works is quite right. Which speaks a word to lots of people today focused upon community service, especially young adults. Good works are good-and we all could use all we can get. At the same time, when the project is done, what is beyond it? What is the sustaining presence for all the other moments? The ones without projects?

Still someone else suggested the oil seems to be a generic reference to faithful and obedient discipleship as defined by the whole gospel. To be like the slave who elsewhere actively, faithfully, and obediently carries out what he has been instructed to do. It’s about trust. But where do we buy more trust?

Obviously there is something to being active in waiting, and in trusting, but maybe it’s not about doing those things as much as its about not running out of the power to do them.* We who are told to tend the light are also told to go and be light for the world. We need a power that produces good deeds- the power needed to produce light. Maybe this parable is using "oil" to be our relationship with God, who is the source and power behind our good deeds and our trusting.

And then maybe we can ask- how full is our lamp? Perhaps some of us are burning brightly this day, or perhaps some of us are sputtering out. But one thing is sure- the lamp needs to be tended. Like any relationship. Our relationship with God requires our attention.

To borrow yet another relationship phrase- does your relationship with God have a spark? If you walked into Jesus would you feel like you know each other? Or would you sense only a faintly distant connection?

When our girls were little they only saw my parents at holidays and the rest of the year we faced the challenge of helping them remember who these people who were so eager to see them and bring gifts were. We’d talk about how their grandparents were coming. We’d get the house ready for them. But it took other ways of being in touch while we were waiting to keep their relationship current. Phone calls, pictures, videos, telling those distant relatives what they’ve been doing. Even though those deeds weren’t the basis of the relationship, they were part of letting the grandparents know who their grandkids are and vice versa. To a certain degree as parents we mediated the relationship until it was strong on its own.

“If we understand "oil" as having a close relationship with God -- the power behind our lives -- the power that gives us a "glow" as shining witnesses in the world -- we must acknowledge that it is possible to let that relationship "run out". When the bridegroom comes, it (seems) too late to try and establish the relationship.” And in that context when we hear that those frenzied bridesmaids came back they found the door closed perhaps it’s important to note that although the door was closed, we don’t hear who closed it.

We just know it was closed. God gives us a relationship and faith and while God never closes the door, we can. And while our salvation is assured, we can in this life lose the power and strength we need and long for in this life. Our relationship with Jesus – being known by Jesus- can’t be mediated through other people who have it. I can’t do that for Jane, for example, nor she for me. This is why the other bridesmaids cannot share their oil. Our relationship with God needs us to keep glowing. And as we hear in Amos, it’s about more than just going through the motions of worship an hour a week.

It’s a relationship- God longs for and indeed kindles the spark of our faith for much more. Our deeds then are a response and even help fan the flame, but our works are not the relationship.

Being disciples in this way with God means we are tending that relationship and doing what God desires in an ongoing way. It doesn’t mean we cannot rest- after all , all the bridesmaids rested. But it does mean constantly tending our relationship with God so it has the power and meaning and support we need to avoid panic and chaos.

God wants to have a personal relationship- one where we share our hopes and fears, and where God invites us to share in a meal that reminds each of us- this is “for you.” And the door is open.

God is always striving to establish that personal relationship. One where today matters not just someday- for us and for the world. While we wait we can know the power of encountering Jesus, entering now, inviting us in to participate and celebrate the many comings of the Christ: Jesus' presence in the Word; in the Sacrament;  in the gathering together; in our going out to make disciples; as we minister to the "least of these." This is what we are given to do and to experience. And it’s a lot.

Yet, these are also the connections with Jesus that keep our "lights" empowered for witness and service and keeps our relationship burning brightly. The truth is that we all at times are foolish, and we fail to tend those lamps as we should.  What continually enables us is what God continually gives, summed up in this prayer from St Claude de Columbiere I invite you to join in now. Let us pray:

Jesus, I feel within me  a great desire to please you  but, at the same time,  I feel totally incapable of doing this  without your special light and help,  which I can expect only from you. Accomplish your will within me-- even in spite of me.   AMEN

* Brian Stoffregen, Crossmarks

Take Heart, You're Not the Miracle

This past Sunday I served as supply pastor for the congregation of one of my colleagues who is recovering from an accident. Her recovery has taken longer than any of us would want and it is so obvious that her people adore her as their leader. And her love for them is profound. They know it will be longer still.

I was told there would probably not be kids but about 6 showed up and so I decided we would sit together and sing "Jesus Loves Me" which when someone asked, included the sign language. I asked that the first time we sing that verse with the word "me" but the second time with the word "us."

Which means that we ended up singing- "We are weak, but he is strong."
I think that was just a little hard for us sing, but important to hear as we remember why we gather as the church and where our power and strength come from.
We heard in our lessons in the Psalm to listen to what the Lord is saying, and in Romans to remember it is not our own heroic efforts that matter. And of course, Jesus and briefly, Peter, are walking on water.

I have to confess that I would have been a horrible disciple. For one thing, I get seasick. No one in their right mind would’ve wanted me in their boat. And there were way too many boat trips for that to go well. But I think the even bigger reason why I would not have been a good disciple is that I can be impatient. Not only were there all those boat trips but in Jesus’ day, it was a very different matter. There were no motors, no GPS, no technology. They were at the mercy of the wind, and the waves and the weather. Like we hear in our gospel today.

This is actually the second boat story in Matthew. In the first, the disciples are in the boat and they hit a serious storm, and the boat is literally about to capsize, and they fear they will drown. And Jesus is asleep in the boat with them. They wake him up screaming perhaps trying to save him or maybe hoping he’ll do something. And he calms the storm. And they wonder if he could more than a great rabbi- maybe he’s the Son of God?

This time around, Jesus has just finished a major miracle in their presence, the feeding of thousands, and he has sent them on ahead of him because he wants time apart to pray. He has sent them to cross the Sea of Galilee but as we hear, the wind is against them. The waters are choppy, and it is a rough go. If you’ve ever been on a rough boat ride, you know, that trip seem to take an eternity.

They left in the evening, and now it is early morning. They’ve been up all night trying to navigate, and they’re battered and frazzled and tired. It’s been maybe close to 12 hours and they should be there by now. But they’re not. They’re still far from where they want to be. And they are NOT with their leader.

They just want to get where they’re headed but they are somewhere in between feeling kind of helpless.

Perhaps you too in the absence of your beloved pastor feel that way. She should be better by now and you should be together moving on in the journey of wherever ministry is headed.

It’s no small wonder the disciples don’t recognize Jesus when he comes, given what they’ve been through. And really, who had ever seen a human walk on water. What can this be? Jesus says, “Take heart, it’s me.” And that’s miraculous.

But if it’s a miracle, Peter leaps to the conclusion he wants to be a miracle too- command me to do that! I want to walk on water!

And Jesus, ever patient, tells him to “Come.”

But Jesus didn’t command Peter to do it first. That was Peter.

Years ago there was a book written called “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Gotta Get Out of the Boat.” And when I was younger I loved that thought. Inspire people to get up and do something miraculous. Baloney. It can be easy to step out in faith, but a sustained faith takes more than us.

Peter steps out in faith but can’t sustain that faith by his own heroic efforts. He gets distracted- first by believing he is the miracle. And then when he blinks and realizes that while he is walking, the wind and the seas are still rough- he loses his nerve when we remembers the world around him. He takes his focus off of Jesus and that’s when he begins to sink.  

And Jesus could have let him. Jesus could have proclaimed this is Peter’s epic fail. But instead when Peter cries out, “Save me!” he reaches out his hand and puts him back in the boat. Take heart- the seas are calmed. Because I am here. And this time the disiples say- truly Jesus is the Son of God! And they’re further in their journey.

My Mom works as a hospice volunteer, and one of the things she talks about is the heart to heart hug. It’s a hug that focuses on the fact your heart and the patient’s heart touch in that hug that calms fears, and anxieties and shows love. I kind of imagine as Peter is hauled into the boat again, there is that moment where he gets a heart to heart hug to reassure him. As Jesus does what he always does- reaches out a hand- the hand that feeds, blesses, heals, saves and forgives.

I take heart that the disciples are a group that seem to have moments that they seem to grasp just who Jesus is, and then a whole bunch of moments where they clearly don’t, and then another moment where they clearly see God and then even colossal failures where they don’t. Because I think we are that way too.

But in all of those moments where we struggle to see Jesus in our midst, Jesus continues reaching out and meeting us and touching our hearts. Restoring, encouraging, saving us.

And I think as ever it’s important for us to remember that we are not the miracle. It is not up to any of us to be the miracle. Christ is the miracle in our lives. Who calls us to also remember that our focus should be upon Jesus and staying in the boat together as the church.

We don’t know the timing of the journey. And there are times we struggle to see God at work. But this gospel reminds us that the God who is powerful enough to command waves is also a God whose never ending desire is to continually reach out a hand and save us. A God who sees us through the tough times and promises there is more to the story.

May you take heart and be strengthened in hope that God will bring you to the next moments in ministry together.

 

Missing the Blessing

Today as we began worship, I had one of the kids hand out glow sticks, but only to one side of the worship space. I told him to make sure everyone on the one side had glowsticks and then to sit down with the bag until later. As we were finishing our series on the 10 Commandments today, today was the day to focus on the two coveting commandments. So after the reading from Exodus 20, and then a reminder of the dialogue between Jesus and the expert in the law, I asked if everyone on the one side had a glowstick and handed out one to the person who still needed one. I reminded the congregation of my personal love of glowsticks, and asked if anyone on the side without glowsticks liked them too, and a few people raised their hands. One person wondered aloud why they had not also been given glowsticks. So I asked what they would be willing to do for a glowstick. That’s what coveting is about. Someone has something and we want it, and we set out to figure out how to get it. Specifically how to get theirs. Whenever we do this we upset people’s lives.

It all starts with a look and deciding to act. And usually it involves bigger things than glowsticks. But whenever we try to get the things others have or change relationships, we cause hurt and damage. And it usually leads to those bigger commandments. And we stop trusting in God to provide for us.

Of course we also remembered we are to share and later we did handout glowsticks to the others because Jesus calls us to love and to share.

So then we were ready to move on to the rest of the sermon, but as a way of background, last Monday, a gentleman who worshipped with us week in and week out, died suddenly and unexpectedly of cardiac arrest. He was a quiet man who sat alone each week. A few years ago he had lost his voice in a bout with throat cancer but was able to communicate with an adaptive device. Having met his family for the funeral I learned there was so much more to this man than I knew, and I felt the sting of not knowing more in my three years as pastor. And I was surprised how little anyone else knew as well. I sat with that this week and wondered how God was speaking. And so today’s sermon was in part a moment to draw together as community and start a risky conversation, knowing everyone of us needed to. And for people to hear how a quiet man saw this place in ways he also never shared.

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Perhaps one of the most notorious cases of coveting is David and Bathsheba. Bathsheba was bathing on the roof, which I know seems odd now, but then it wasn’t. She was bathing on the roof and David caught a glimpse, and she was hot. It only took a look. From then on he just had to have her, and he made it his purpose. It led him to send her husband Uriah into battle to fight a fight he couldn’t win, which also means he sent a whole army into a fight they wouldn’t survive. And he had to because he and Bathsheba had already gotten together and she was pregnant. Today on Facebook, we’d say their relationship status was “It’s Complicated.” Massive destruction of relationships occurred involving killing and lying and stealing and adultery. But it all started with a look and a desire. To have something that wasn’t his.

Coveting itself isn’t about infidelity or theft- those are other commandments. But these two coveting commandments are given, according to Luther, to show us that it is a sin to desire or in any way aim at getting something of our neighbor’s- their spouse or their possessions. It’s about relationships.

Yesterday I conducted a funeral for Art and as a part of it got to meet his wife Elizabeth and his family. And you might wonder what on earth that has to do with coveting. Well, Art had been a member here at Holy Spirit since he was a child dropped off at the Childrens’ Home nearby. And as many of you know it was the practice of the late great Pastor Radcliffe to bring children from there to here so they could have a church home. They were adopted if you will into this church family. So much so that when Pastor Radcliffe retired and later died, it was like losing a Dad for those people. Art was 79 and had been worshipping here for about 70 years. He say over there in the last row, and was usually about the first one here. Week after week.

Elizabeth has been a lifelong Catholic. And the family was raised in the Catholic church. So many of the life milestones happened there. But over the years, Elizabeth shared with me that she and Art came to agree that though they worshipped in different places, God would give them the strength to respect each other’s faith. The most important thing was being active in their faith and church. And frankly I think that there were times when as a spouse she would have had a right to say the family ought to all be together. And maybe even times they did try to influence the other. But she recognized the role this church played in Art’s life, and that he was only really going to be a Lutheran, and that his being here strengthened him to be the husband and father he was. So she didn’t work at trying to get him to change. She saw that God’s family is bigger than we think.

That’s what these commandments get at. That even if by right you could obtain something, we shouldn’t alienate someone from it. And it was obvious that Art’s life was blessed by being here with all of you. But there is another aspect of this relationship that ought to be explored and I am going to risk discussing it.

In spite of the fact that Art was here for all these years, when I was announcing his death, it seemed that not many people really knew him or who he was. That most did not. And frankly I myself, as the pastor here for three years, had to ask why I knew so little. Yes, he was quiet, but still I wonder. And it makes me sad.

And I want to suggest a very subtle aspect of coveting that churches can fall into. When I first came here one of the things people wanted me to do as the new pastor was to get everyone back who left. And the truth is that some of them had found other churches. As much as I like you want the place to be filled, going after people who have other churches is coveting. And it was important to say that trying to lure them back would be wrong. We want this place full and sometimes we are very focused on wondering how to draw more people here. At the same time however, coveting skews our perspective. Because when we get so focused on the blessing we are so sure is somewhere out there, we lose sight of the blessings in our midst. That’s the consequence of coveting- missing the blessing.

And Art was a blessing. I have heard stories of how much he adored this place, and all of you. He kept coming year after year because of you. And the encounter with God in this place. Even if you never knew it. He talked about this place with love. I wonder how many of us knew?

Last Sunday none of us knew what Monday would bring but last Sunday I preached on loving the neighbors right in front of you. And during the sharing of the peace, I have heard several of you remark that Art made a point of shaking your hand, every hand, more than usual. Loving all of you.

And then we had anointing as we do on the last Sunday each month- for healing, forgiveness, wholeness. And Art has come to receive this before, but this past Sunday he was intentional, and stood ramrod straight before me so I could make that cross on his forehead. And he was obviously pleased- he smiled, there were tears in his eyes. He was overjoyed to be here.

And I think about the beauty of the Catholic faith where anointing is a sacrament. Last rites and anointing should be offered whenever possible. And I am struck by knowing that last Sunday, Art was blessed to be in this fellowship and at Christ’s table, and to receive that cross on his forehead, the same one made in baptism, one last time- like a bookend in his life. That cross that tells us we are adopted into God’s family, and that salvation is ours. What a blessing.

It reminds us who God is for us in Christ. And we’re freed, to live. Today I hope we can remember that we should never be so focused on looking elsewhere for the blessing we miss out on how God is blessing us right here. God’s celebration is better than we imagine. And if there is someone here you realize you really don’t know- reach out and ask. No one is going to tell you it’s too late. Don’t wait- let’s live into the blessing of God’s reality now.

As Long as You're Here- Love Your Neighbors

How many of you know what important world history anniversary took place yesterday? It may not be as important to us this side of the pond as it is across the Atlantic, but yesterday, June 28, 1914 marked the day that is considered to be the starting point of World War I-the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian empire. He and his wife Sophie were visiting Sarajevo in Serbia, to inspect the troops. A show of strength to the Serbians whose territory had recently become a part of the Empire. Franz Ferdinand was visiting on just about the worst day possible- June 28 was the anniversary of the Battle of Kosovo- a major symbolic show of Serbian resistance, and a rallying point for freedom fighters. During the motorcade, one of several potential assassins that day tried to kill the Archduke with a bomb. It missed his car and hit another, killing one of the Archduke’s officers. Which might have been a moment to think about the whole event. But instead, it was decided to re-route the drive. But the driver hadn’t been given the new route. And while he was trying to put the car in reverse-Shots were fired and the world changed.

And it all could have turned out differently, but it didn’t.

And Lots of neighbors could have responded differently but because they didn’t, what we now know as history began a whole new chapter of life as we know it. Within 37 days, war had been declared by the major European players, and horror on a whole new scale unfolded.

I’d like to take a moment and look at a very broad overview of what happened and how all of the 10 Commandments came into play. Let’s see if we get them all in. Serbia was trying to engage in expansionism which is another way of saying- I want what you have- which I think fits the coveting of the stuff of others ( #10). Arguably the very nature of empire building of the Austro Hungarians means that words like annexation are just a cover for taking what is not yours- stealing. (#7) Once the Archduke was assassinated, and everyone was trying to posture, most people would have told you that assassinations were pretty typical- they didn’t lead to war, unless what you really wanted to do was fight. But Franz Ferdinand’s killing was a good excuse to kill others. (That is a whole lot of #5). And while we’re at it, let’s say that it was pretty universal that war was a god to some- the thing from which you most expect what you want and where you take refuge in distress.  Clearly for the leaders of the empires, but also ultimately for others. While there were socialist movements in most of the Europeans countries that were pretty vibrant, and while the workers could claim that workers of the world should unite, and while these movements threatened strike and claimed war was insane, in the end, they believed the claim that war was in the country’s best interest. (#1). And at least for Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm believed that God had predestined the Germans for greatness- assuming we know what God ordains. #2.

The French encouraged the Russians to be aggressive, probably exaggerating the truth about their neighbors, and rumors ran in every direction-#8. This could have been avoided except that the most peace oriented member of the French government had earlier been forced to resign because he was having an affair with a mistress that created public scandal- #6 and #9.

And in the midst of this Britain, scared, pretty much assumed the “not my problem” approach- not my neighbors.

I think I probably didn’t exactly fit in the 3^rd or 4^th commandments- but surely war took no Sabbath, and doing what seemed to be right, robbed a lot of people of the sons who should be tending the land- and who were no longer there to care for elders as almost an entire generation was lost. And it could have all turned out differently. But no one was thinking of their neighbors. They were thinking about themselves.

There are whole libraries full of deciding whose actions or inactions mattered most in World War I starting- but so many points of change passed by it’s easy to decide that it was too big to stop.

And sometimes I wonder when we so easily say we should love our neighbors, don’t we deep down think that God’s call to turn toward our neighbors in love is it just too big?

In our world that continues to spiral toward aggression and nation building globally, and in our nation and city facing profound challenges. As we approach the anniversary of a day celebrating OUR freedom, are we thinking about our neighbors?

That’s what God wants to know. And what the Commandments show.

One writer has suggested that the 10 Commandments show how a freed people can live. Freed from the powers of sin and the world. A new life, if not perfectly seen, is still possible. Some today suggest we don’t know what freedom really is or we don’t appreciate it. I agree. But I am not so convinced we ever did as humans. After all World War 1 was supposed to the “War to End All Wars.”

"Freedom is often seen I think as an end to itself. It means unlimited choices, keeping options open for one’s self." We can look in history, or ponder how others we know today have it all wrong, in the end, God is speaking to us here today and asking what we think it means to live free. The commandments are “words for life.” They show what a life of freedom looks like.

"It is not when the powerful take what they want- but when we all respect the property of others, and we do our best to help them take care of it and hold onto it. It is not when the strong dominate the weak, but when the bodies and lives of all are protected and their rights respected- the young, the elderly, the impoverished, the handicapped, everyone.

It is not the endless satisfaction of every impulse, but a commitment to living as loving and committed" community. Because there is more freedom in lives committed to each other than everyone for his or herself.

So I am not preaching about self improvement- but neighbor improvement. Because "the point of the commandments is not about you and your personal growth and freedom. It’s not about “your best life now” but “your neighbor’s best life now.”

And often it does seem like it’s not our problem or there’s nothing we can do, and we settle in to believing that it can’t turn out any differently- that the sin in our world condition is as tangled as the web of history I described earlier. Why try?

Because God says again today- "OK, it seems large, but while you’re here, love your neighbors."

God calls us to move from mistrust which leads to misery. To keep moving toward freedom. And peace. And it starts small.

Start with your neighbors- God loves them so much, God gave the law so we would know how to love them. Don’t kill, or steal, or destroy others’ relationships, don’t hurt with words, or spend your time burned up about what your neighbor has and whether it’s fair.

God loves our neighbors so much we are given the law. The first part helps us love God. The second part to love everyone who is not yourself.

Likewise God loves us so much, God gives our neighbors the law.

And yes, not everyone will love us.

None of us perfectly keep the law. But then God loves the whole world so much, God gave Christ- who reminds us of the gift and challenge it is to love, but assures us of God’s love for all of us.

We experience and reflect one aspect of this love in worship here. But most of the time, the place we spend most of our hours is where God is ready for us to experience and reflect love- with our neighbors. That’s where most of living out the law happens.

It really can all turn out differently- But we need each other. And instead of waiting for someone else to do what we want, or focusing upon who deserves our love, perhaps as ever the best place to start is loving people first. Love the people right in your midst who cross your path. While you're here, love them. You or I may not solve the whole world this way, but it’s a darn good place to start.

Do You See What He's Done?

On Maundy Thursday I offer individual absolution and laying on of hands. After this I also offer corporate forgiveness in the name of Christ,  not only for those who did not come forward, but for our sins as community.
This was the message later...



Do you know what he's done? What Jesus has done? Tonight we don't hear Jesus talk about Holy Communion. It's what makes the Gospel of John different. We come here on Maundy Thursday expecting to hear "do this in remembrance of me" followed by words about bread and wine. WHAT IF...instead we were given what we hear in tonight's gospel as the way of remembering that last night with the disciples? We'd be washing feet each week. You seem underwhelmed. Or maybe overwhelmed.

We'd be told to strip away all of what gives us our status, and empty ourselves of our ideas about it all. And wash each others feet. All the dirt, and the scrapes. The wounds and literally sometimes all the crap that our feet drag around. Just as true in all the places we come from as Galilee. And cleansed, loved, and forgiven. Do you know what he's done?

And it's not just about the feet. It's about the love. Servant love. That loves our unloveliness. Servant love.

Years ago our daughters were arguing over having to clean up the mess in the room they shared and at the height of the row, I heard one of them bellow, "I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT!!" Followed by stomping down the stairs to present the offending sister in hopes I would do something about it
So often, we too want to say, if we're being honest, in the middle of people and situations we encounter, "I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT!"  and do the same.

Do you know what Jesus has done?

He has not only gotten down on his hands and knees, and entered the grittiness of our humanity, he's cleaned up the mess. And he's done it for ALL, even Judas, knowing full well what is to come.

Knowing the very real fact that evil will take up residence in Judas and lead him to be someone it's hard to imagine he'd become. And it will take up residence in Peter and lead him to speak words he swore he never would.

Henri Nouwen writes that we, "People who live close together, can be great sources of sorrow for one another. When Jesus chose the 12, he chose Judas among them. He's called a traitor, literally in the Greek, 'one who hands another over to suffering.' And the truth is that there is something of the traitor in each one of us. Because each of us hands over our fellow human beings to suffering- somehow, somewhere. Mostly without intending it, or maybe even knowing it. When we are willing to confess that often we hand over those we love ( and those we are called to love) even against our own best intentions, we will be more ready to forgive those who mostly against their will, are the causes of our pain."

Because we all muddy the water.

We are called to remember- to re-live- what Jesus has done- for you, for me, for us all. To be shaped by his servanthood and to hear again the command-love each other like this.
He summons us to come and be cleansed and then draws us into a different world
of communion and community
And it can't just be about being with the ones we like.
It's also about being with the misunderstood, the betrayer and the enemy whoever we imagine them to be.

When it's all stripped away we see who we really are- all of us.

Then... we see, just how profound it is what Jesus has done

That we can't stop God's love and forgiveness. We can't stop God's commitment in Christ
To humanity at it's stinkiest and most busted places.

Do you see what Jesus has done? What Jesus does still?
Love EVERYONE like this
Remember

When Empty is Good

They go the tomb and it is empty. Empty. Things that are empty are not usually positive- the empty gastank, the empty bank account, the empty refrigerator. Empty is a place of fear, of not enough- that its not enough, or we’re not enough. Empty just by watching your faces tells me feels like doubt, or fears. They go to the tomb and hear- not here. And whether “not here” is like that voicemail message when we wanted help or that spot where someone used to be, “not here” tells of feeling alone, and of loss and sadness. Empty and not here- often means what we don’t see. The women come desperate for meaning and first encounter empty and “not here.”

But then they are rocked with something more. And encounter what happens when empty turns out to be a good thing. It’s mystifying and not fully there. They don’t get to see Jesus but they hear one thing.

But they hear he has risen and to go and tell.

And somehow it is enough

To leave the tomb and move forward instead of remaining paralyzed like the guards. No amount of words can fully capture what that glimpse and truth would mean.

They leave with that and a promise they will learn more on the way.

It’s not everything but it’s good news. And they don’t leave just with the same ration of fear and sadness, they leave with fear AND joy. Both.

Sometimes people tell us that to be a believer means that when we face the unknown or mystifying we just need to have faith.

Not so says the resurrection story.  

Having fear is not the absence of faith. Instead God sent a messenger to help us see the difference between stunned and stuck. Even when we feel like we’re moving but we’re not sure how.

Somehow some of the fear has been left behind in that tomb with the old grave clothes and yesterday.

And it’s replaced with a seed of faith and joy

That there really is new life in this story

There really is more than we see.

Because God has acted and Christ is risen and though we don’t understand all of it, we really will be given what we need on the way.

And as the story is shared, and other things are seen and heard, each who encounters will come to faith, but differently. Just like us. That somehow we see that what seems empty is good.

Recently there was another moment where empty is good- it was last Sunday when we had our first Sunday as one unified worshipping flock. And at the end of communion, the napkin the holds the bread was empty! There were enough of us here that I got the last little tiny bite. Empty! Praise God! I think that moment was one where we gathered in fear and joy and wondered if it would all be OK. And God delighted us with more to strengthen our faith together. That bread napkin was empty! And it was good.

There’s a third time that empty is good. It’s when this place is empty. When we who have been forgiven fed and filled, leave. Because the sharing of the gospel is happening out there along the way. I hope and believe and am filled with joy as I continue to see new faces here- young and old, from everywhere. And I don’t think they’re here because they suspect we have it all together. I think it’s because we are willing to share how we have encountered the good news and invite people to come and see with us on the way.

Some of you have come this day brimming with good news in your lives, and some have come hoping to hear Alleluias that maybe will start to feel true. Still others may wonder if the experience will match the greatness of expectations, or fear that you won’t pull off the perfect Easter day.

Each time we gather and share the story of Christ and share in resurrection, we share those glimpses we see on the way that strengthen us all. Those messages that allow us to look into that tomb and leave behind some of the fears.

And in place of that spot, the emptiness is filled with joy, and with faith. And that’s why I want to invite and encourage each one of you here to keep walking on the way, keep coming again to speak of things that looked empty but led to new life. Of the mysterious power and love of a God that wants to fill our empty places and replace our fears with joy.

God wants to help as us see in the way Brian McClaren has stated it-“that it is enough to faithfully and simply tell the story- of women at dawn, of men running half believing, of rolled stones and folded grave clothes. Of a supposed gardener saying the name of a crying woman, and sad walkers encountering a stranger on the road home. Of an empty tomb and overflowing hearts….(and) God comes to give us wisdom to know that the best we can do is stand in awe. Christ’s work on the cross and that empty tomb surpass all our flowers and flourishes on this day of mysterious hope beyond all words.

May we be less conscious of achieving the perfect decorations, or the finest music or wondering if our emptiness shows. May we instead be drawn more deeply into the confidence in in the Risen Christ whose presence here trumps it all.  God is a God of new life and never-ending possibility. Forgiveness and grace and love for us.

May we this day be surpassed by the simple but undeniable joy of standing together and daring to proclaim the good news- Risen Indeed! Alleluia! That death is not the last word. Violence, hate, condemnation, betrayal and failure are not the last word.

No. Each of them are left behind like rags at that tomb. And from that tomb arises Christ- Alive! For us! Forever!