Sunday, April 29, 2012

"Abiding Action"


April 29, 2012
Epistle Reading: 1 John 3:16-24

16We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us — and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? 18Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. 19And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him 20whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. 21Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God; 22and we receive from him whatever we ask, because we obey his commandments and do what pleases him.
23And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. 24All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.   
Sermon: Abiding Action
Pop quiz time!  If there were one verse in the Bible that is the most widely known what would it be?
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him will not perish, but have everlasting life.
John 3:16 is everywhere. Tim Tebow wore it on his eye black in the 2009 NCAA championship game.  The California-based food chain In-n-Out Burger gives you a Diet Coke with a side of Scripture by printing John 3:16 on the cup.  Clothing chain Forever 21 gives you the same with your trendy treads by printing it in a tiny font on all of their shopping bags. 
But leave it to us Texans to take it to whole new level!  Christian-owned Kwik Kar Lube & Service in Plano, Texas lets customers who recite John 3:16 get a $19.99 oil change.  Unfortunately, when one non-believing customer refused, his bill more than doubled to $46.  I believe he left without an oil change or a heart change to Jesus. 
Now, I’m a fan of John 3:16 and think it sums up the heart of the gospel pretty well, but having read our 1 John reading for this morning, I’m tempted to put a “1” in front of all those “John 3:16” appearances in popular culture.  You see, if John 3:16 tells us what the gospel is, 1 John 3:16 tells us why it matters: how it changes the way we live, now in this life.
We know love by this, that Jesus laid down his life for us — and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.

It’s certainly good to know that God loved the world so much that Jesus would come and die and rise again that we would have eternal life.  But if that knowledge becomes only something we wave like a golden ticket into heaven – or a good deal on an oil change – we miss the abiding, heart-changing truth there. 

If we are worth Jesus laying down his life for us, so is every single person on the planet.  And if God thinks they’re worth dying and rising for, so should we.

1 John makes it clear:  How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?

In the Greek it is stated even stronger, asking how God’s love can possibly abide in someone who sees their brother or sister in need and shuts their heart to them.  Not helping when we can goes against the heart of the gospel.  But closing our hearts to need and injustice to the extent that we don’t even see it or feel it: this makes a mockery of the gospel. 

Like a patient Grandpa wanting to be sure we really get the point, 1 John urges us,  Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

It is not enough to share God’s love printed on a cup or bag or through an oil change.  Words and speech: our world has plenty of this.  Too much, actually (says the preacher as I preach!).  Truth and action is what we really need. 

All the words we say in this place: “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, the peace of Christ be with you, this is the Word of the Lord, thanks be to God, I believe”…these words have no power if we don’t translate them into loving action.

If we tell someone we love them while treating them as less than human, our words fall flat.  How much more meaningful would In-and-Out Burger’s witness be if instead of printing John 3:16 on a cup, they donated food to those in need?  Words don’t fill hungry stomachs and desperate souls: food does.  Love does.  What if instead of trying to save souls through a Bible verse on shopping bags, Forever 21 showed compassion in giving clothing to those affected by homelessness, caring for their bodies as well as their souls? 

Abiding in God is not enough.  We have to abide in one another.  Like Jesus’ explaining the greatest commandments of loving God and neighbor, they go hand in hand.  If God intended our faith to be in a vacuum, why would Jesus have even bothered coming to this troubled earth? 

Abiding action requires much more of us than just reciting a Bible verse (even if it’s a great one).  It requires much more than just wearing our Christianity like a label on our clothing or ballot.  It requires that we actively love as completely as our Risen Lord does: laying down our wealth, our privilege, our pride, our very lives for others. 

Sounds a bit dramatic, doesn’t it?  Sure, I can let someone into my lane in traffic, I can say “good morning” to a stranger and I can even be intentionally pleasant to someone who drives me crazy, but laying down my life?  I’m not sure I would do that for my dearest friends, much less the patronizing person who says scripture reveals that I should, as a woman, be silent in church.  You can all picture that person for you: the voice of criticism and frustration. 

If we’re called to hold John 3:16 and 1 John 3:16 together, as I believe we are, this means being willing to lay down our lives for that person.  Gosh, Jesus, why couldn’t you have just set the example of buying someone a cup of coffee instead of such a grand gesture?  That Son of God…what an overachiever!

If we are to abide with God, we are commanded to abide with our brothers and sisters whom we might consider the misfits of our human family.   We’re not only to tolerate them, we’re to lay down our lives for them.  Because as Grandpa 1st John reminds us, “we know love by this: that Jesus laid down his life for us”…all of us. 

That is our example and our path: the constant reorientation of our lives in every moment away from our own selves to others.  And like flowers instinctually turning toward the sun, we will see that it is in turning to those around us – even the frustrating ones – that our hearts are turned to God once more. 

This does not mean that we as individuals do not matter.  It means that we can only fully realize who we are as individuals, who we are before our Creator, when we abide with our community.

This level of relationship is not an easy task.  For every product in our culture emblazoned with John 3:16, there are a hundred others telling us that we should look out for number 1 because no one else will look out for us, that our words and speech matter more than the truth and action of other people’s lives and experiences.  And there’s absolutely nothing in our politics and newspapers or on our televisions telling us to lay down our lives for one another.  Even the most altruistic causes don’t go that far.

That is a Jesus original.  And amidst all the hateful words and meaningless babble of our time, that call to action rises above it all, urging us to love as we have been loved.

We are able to love this sacrificially because love is no stranger to us: we have seen it in the One who gave fully of himself for all.   We have seen it in the One who rose again and continues to breathe new life into this divided, distracted world.  In the One who abides with us no matter what life brings.  We have seen it in the One who gifts our church family with talent (like we saw last Sunday), and with humor and sincere care for eacn another. 

John 3:16 is made complete by 1 John 3:16.  Our abiding faith in God is made complete only when we abide in one another through loving, selfless action.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life…and we know love by this, that Jesus laid down his life for us — and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.

Alleluia! Amen.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

"Blessed to Be a Witness"

April 22, 2012
Gospel Reading: Luke 24:36B-48

Jesus himself stood among the disciples and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 37They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. 38He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself.
Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 40And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.

41While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 42They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43and he took it and ate in their presence.

44Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you — that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48You are witnesses of these things.”


SERMON: “Blessed to Be a Witness”

The disciples really loved a good dinner party (in Greek, I believe the word is potluck).  This was one dinner party they would never forget.  Some of their group were excitedly talking about Jesus walking with them on the road to Emmaus, while others were doubting, and all of a sudden, Jesus appeared in their midst.  He looked at them and simply said, “Peace” but they were all terrified, thinking he was a ghost.  This Jesus seemed a little different.

They must have been asking themselves:
Is this Jesus 2.0?  The new-and-improved Resurrection model?  The old Jesus was pretty remarkable: healing the sick and casting out demons.  But Jesus 2.0, well he was raised from the dead and can walk through walls!  He can also disappear better than David Copperfield! 

This upgraded Christ did not emphasize his post-resurrection glow or his ability to defeat physics.  He said, “Look at my hands and my feet, touch me and see.”  For some reason, he knew was best recognized not by his voice or his face but by his wounds. 

Now, I can’t help but wonder why God would have raised Jesus from the dead but still left him with the marks of that terrible death. Why didn’t Jesus appear glowing and perfect like a Lord of the Rings Gandalf the Grey becoming a radiant Gandalf the White, instead of remaining scarred?  Perhaps because there’s a witness in those wounds.

Barbara Brown Taylor describes this witness well:

 “Look at my hands and my feet,” Jesus said, and when they did they saw everything he had ever been to them. They saw the hands that had broken bread and blessed broiled fish, holding it out to them over and over again. They saw the hands that had pressed pads of mud against a blind man’s eyes and taken a dead girl by the hand so that she rose and walked. They saw the hands that danced through the air when he taught, the same hands that reached out to touch a leper without pausing or holding back.

And his feet—the ones that had carried him hundreds of miles, taking his good news to all who were starving for it—into the homes of criminals and corrupt bureaucrats, whom he treated like long-lost kin; into the graveyard where the Gerasene demoniac lived like a wild dog among the dead, whom he freed from his devils forever. Looking at those feet, they remembered the vulgar woman who had wet them with her tears and dried them with her hair, and Mary, who had sat there quietly protected by him while her sister Martha railed at her to get up and work.

Those hands and feet, that so marked Jesus’ ministry on earth needed to be marked by his greatest witness of love and sacrifice on the cross.  While none of us know what it is to be raised from the dead, we do know what it is to survive the heartache or fear or illness that we never thought we could.  And when that survival happens, we are made new, but we also bear the scars of that struggle for new life. 

As enticing as the idea of an airbrushed, perfect Jesus is, what we really need is a Savior with scars.  Because when we are called to be a witness to that Savior, we need to be able to talk about the ugly struggles that somehow God has brought us through.  That’s what being a witness is: claiming resurrection life for here and now, in the midst of our wounds. 

Jesus’ hands and feet told the story of God’s excruciating and exhilarating witness on earth.  They still do.  That kind of witness can’t be erased.  And as the Body of Christ, we are his scarred hands and feet still bearing witness to the new life God brings.    What an overwhelming responsibility.

The disciples certainly felt overwhelmed by it.  They were disbelieving and wondering when they were told to be witnesses.  Jesus patiently explained again how he was always meant to come and die and rise again, so that humanity would never again doubt the depths of God’s love for us.  And as he uttered those powerful words, gesturing with those holy, holey hands, still some doubted.  But they were called to be a witness all the same.

Because if a witness is found not in glowing light and perfect heavenly bodies but in a tired, wounded body still serving, then God can use even the most unlikely characters to witness to the resurrection.  The most powerful testimony is not how we have placidly sailed the sea of obligatory faith, never wavering, never doubting.  The most powerful witness to the work of God is found when we show our wounds that have been healed with God’s grace, even if the scars remain. 

When we let our hands reach out to those in need of dignity and sustenance rather than balling them into fists of anger and pride.  When we let our feet guide us to bravely walk alongside the overlooked and judged, rather than running frantically—and going nowhere—on the treadmill of self-expectations.  

I invite you, as I play the song “Blessed to Be a Witness” by Ben Harper and show images, to ponder what it means for you to be a witness.  What it looks like for us to be God’s wounded hands and feet in this world. 

We are each of us witnesses to our Risen Lord who still walks among us, and that is a blessing. 

Friday, April 20, 2012

"There's No Need"


April 15, 2012

New Testament Reading: Acts 4:32-37

32 Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul , and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.
33With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.
34There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

36There was a Levite, a native of Cyprus, Joseph, to whom the apostles gave the name Barnabas (which means ‘son of encouragement’). 37He sold a field that belonged to him, then brought the money, and laid it at the apostles’ feet.
SERMON
“I went into church and sat on the velvet pew. I watched as the sun came shining through the stained glass windows. The minister, dressed in a velvet robe, opened the golden gilded Bible, marked it with a silk bookmark and said, ‘If any man will be my disciple, said Jesus, let him deny himself, take up his cross, sell what he has, give it to the poor, and follow me.’”

These words from Soren Kierkegaard illustrate the church's often-complicated relationship with money. From Aaron's golden calf to Jesus overturning market tables in the synagogue to the sorrowful rich young man told to sell all he owns and give his money to the poor, the church has always struggled with wealth. Fast forward several decades and our dysfunctional relationship with money took the form of indulgences, where people paid priests to absolve their sins. Saved by grace...and the just-for-you, two-payment deal of $20!
In our own time, we see staggering amounts of money given to promote a “Christian” agenda in the political arena – but one that is often more concerned with re-election and partisanship than compassion and God. Mega churches broadcast on our televisions with shiny-haired attractive men promising through artificially whitened teeth – like those indulgences of old – salvation, if only we will trust God with our wallets as well as our hearts. We're told that financial success is the result of God's favor, with the often unspoken counterpart being that poverty is the result of laziness or God's displeasure.
And then comes this passage from Acts to make us really uncomfortable. Sounding like a page out of Karl Marx's Das Kapital manifesto, it echoes more of communism than the Christianity we're comfortable with. Despite the fact that financial stewardship and generosity is mentioned more in scripture than any other issue, it is almost never talked about in Presbyterian churches, unless of course it's time for a new building.
Our reading this morning has the same effect of Jesus turning over those tables so long ago: our understanding of how the world should and does work is toppled and we're left with a jumble on the floor trying to pick up the pieces while still holding on to the Bible.
We're understandably concerned that if we pick up the pieces “everything they owned was held in common” and “no one claimed private ownership of anything” we will wind up with an impossible economic model that, time and time again has failed in so many countries because greed and corruption quickly overshadow the common good.
But if we first pick up the most important piece – “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.” – We discover the heart of the early church, where a diverse community was of one heart and one soul.
But if we only hold this piece, we miss the second half what is meant to be one sentence in the Greek: “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all, FOR there was not a needy person among them.”
The resurrection was both a physical and a communal event: it was a physical raising from death, not a metaphysical one. Christ was truly dead. And he was truly raised to new life, a point that is made several times in scripture when he eats with his disciples, showing human hunger.
The resurrection was also a communal event: Jesus did not raise himself. He was raised by God. Once that tomb was empty, Jesus used people to spread the word of his resurrection, that through the witness of the women and men who followed him, person-to-person, that miraculous news would fill all the world like water flowing through parched soil.
And so the newly-formed community of the church, guided by the Holy Spirit as we are, spread the good news of their Risen Lord. The power of their resurrection testimony was not found in flowery words or fancy buildings but was a testimony of full bellies and clothed children.
This text is not advocating communism, it is advocating generous unity. It is not a perfect model: the next chapter brings the death penalty for those who withhold their wealth. It will never be able to be exactly replicated, nor should it.
But this text should guide us in how we deal with that most-uncomfortable of topics in the church: money. It reminds us that the resurrection was physical and communal and so if we make Easter about our individual comfort at the expense of the least of these, we miss the point of it all. Where consumerism reigns and capitalism is god, this passage speaks of another way: a way in which the power of the resurrection is most clearly revealed in caring for those in need, even if this means we have to change our way of living.
There are cultures for whom this concept is not a foreign one.
In Africa, particularly Southern Africa, they sum up the spirit of our Acts reading in one word: ubuntu. A rough translation is “I am because we are” but it's best understood through the words of South Africans (instead of mine).
Nelson Mandela describes it like this: A traveller through a country would stop at a village and he didn't have to ask for food or for water. Once he stops, the people give him food, entertain him. That is one aspect of Ubuntu, but it will have various aspects. Ubuntu does not mean that people should not enrich themselves. The question therefore is: Are you going to do so in order to enable the community around you to be able to improve?
Desmond Tutu speaks of ubuntu as the essence of being human. He says, “Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality – Ubuntu – you are known for your generosity. We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole World. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity.
Perhaps ubuntu is what the early church was all about. They did not always get it right – and we won't either – but they strived for that kind of unity and generosity, for a community where there was no need for need, where the concerns of any became the concerns of all until they were met.
I earlier said that, illustrated by Soren Kierkegaard, the church has had a rough relationship with wealth. Perhaps this will always be. But if we believe that Jesus is risen, that our God is alive, then we are called to bring that kind of physical, communal life to all.
When we're tempted to spend money we don't really have on what we don't really need, that word of community reminds us of those who go without: ubuntu. When we're lulled into a consumeristic coma that isolates us from any who are suffering, the Spirit speaks that word to us: ubuntu. When we in the church buy into the idea that we are defined by what we look like, sound like or how many fill our velvet pews, that word reminds us of communities all across the world worshipping our same Risen Lord in dilapidated homes and disease-ridden villages: ubuntu.
I am...because you are. We are...because God is. Halleluiah! Amen.



"Recognizing Resurrection"

EASTER SUNDAY, APRIL 8, 2012
Scripture Reading: Luke 24:13-35

13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?”
19He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” 25Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
28As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

SERMON

It was the third day. That dreaded day when hope would either be lost or found. Jesus would either be raised – as he promised – or it would all be a sham. An amazing encounter with a great person, but a delusion all the same. It's like the day you know the doctor will be calling to tell you news that will either cause you to breathe a sigh of relief or be stunned breathless with fear. The third day is nearly over.

The disciples' human tendency toward pessimism and doubt leads them to assume the worst, even if some women said the tomb was empty. They walk the road to Emmaus, each step a heavy defeated struggle, each breath catching in their throats with grief. How desperately they wanted Jesus to be who he said he was. They feel foolish for having trusted what was beyond their understanding, they feel angry at being misled, but mostly, they're just sad. Sad to have lost the person – who prophet or Son of God, Savior or fraud – was their friend and was brutally executed.

Lost in this ocean of grief, it takes them a moment to realize that they're not alone. A wayfaring stranger has joined them on the road. The text says that their eyes were kept from recognizing him. Of course they were. Who can see clearly when your eyes are full of tears, when your heart is full of defeat? Jesus asks them a common question, “What are you talking about as you walk?”

Unable to express their heartbreak and keep walking at the same time, they stop, looking this stranger in the face but not really seeing him. Their pain comes out defensively, “We're talking about what everyone else is talking about – the “things” that have taken place in Jerusalem lately.” They use the word “things” because it saves them from the emotional landmine of having to utter the name of the one they've lost: “Jesus.”

Jesus, gently urging them to express their grief, says, “What things?” Gulping back tears, they blurt out quickly, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in word and deed before God and all the people, how he was crucified, how we had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel. It's the third day, and some women told us we might have reason to hope, but the day's nearly over, and we've seen no proof that he's alive.”

Now it's Jesus' turn to be a bit abrupt, using harsh language to wake them from their fog of grief and to criticize their mislabeling of him as a “prophet” and not “the Son of God.” On that tear-soaked road to Emmaus, these disciples can barely place one foot in front of the other. They can't see the past: all the prophets promised and all Jesus taught them, clearly. They can't see the future where Jesus has already defeated death forever. And so he takes them back through scripture, opening their eyes to the big picture of things.

And while they appreciate all he's trying to do, grief is heavier than words. Even words of scripture. But yet, they realize that somehow their hearts are warmed by this wayfaring stranger, and for reasons they can't explain, they don't want him to leave just yet. When they get to their village, and Jesus pretends to keep going on, they urge him “Stay with us, because it is nearly evening and the day is now nearly over.” Of course, they mean much more with those words.

Stay with us, the only day that could bring hope out of this horrific week is nearly gone and we might never see hope again. Stay with us, otherwise our grief might consume us if we are left all alone. Stay with us, darkness is coming. Like a toddler needing their mother to stay as they drift off to sleep and protect them from the fearful unseen threats in the night, they beg, “Stay with us.”

Jesus, who never intended to go on and leave them without bringing them hope on this darkest of nights, stays. And as they gather around a rugged wooden table, the guest becomes the host as this stranger takes bread, gives God thanks for it, and breaks it, mending their broken hearts in feeding them. That loving action speaks louder than all those words of scripture ever could: and their eyes are finally opened to see their Savior in this wandering one who walks with them on the road of sorrow.

They recognize resurrection that met them in their grief, spoke of God's work through history in saving God's people, resurrection that did not abandon them in the night but instead met their hunger for food and their even more desperate hunger for hope.

Resurrection is easy to miss. All it takes is ignoring the witness of others because they happen to be women, or poor, or uneducated. All it takes is giving in to the undercurrent of pessimism that permeates our culture, urging us to live only for ourselves, because life is only what we make of it and then we die. All it takes is expecting God to come with grand gestures and trumpet sounds instead of through a child, a subtle breeze or a stranger. All it takes is the assumption that we are powerless against those forces that seek to crucify and defeat any who question them.

But if we open ourselves to trust that the resurrection is real, for Jesus and for us also, we find that God brings us new life in the midst of whatever forces of death we face.

If we trust that the resurrection was not just one moment in history, not just one Sunday in a year, but every single day as God breathes life into the darkness of illness, oppression and isolation, we find that our eyes are opened to see those walking beside us.

To see that all is not lost: whether it's the third day or the 80th year. To see that the stranger who never abandons us to darkness still becomes the host at this Table, breaking bread to feed our bodies and Spirits.

As soon as those disciples recognized Jesus in their holy heart burn and in the breaking of bread, he vanished. Resurrection isn't stasis: stasis is the opposite: a tomb.

Resurrection is movement, bringing wholeness and life to all who encounter it. You'll notice that, as Jesus talked to the disciples about scripture and helped them understand what had happened, they didn't sit down under a palm tree and chat. They kept walking.

And after the refreshing encounter with their Risen Lord at a Table, he kept moving, and so did they. They got up and rushed back down that road to Jerusalem, fearing the dark no longer, to share the good news with their friends and eventually the world through loving words and acts of compassion and justice.

Christ is risen! And we are risen with him! Alleluia! Now, let's get moving. Amen.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

"He Loved Them to the End"

Maundy Thursday: April 5, 2012


Gospel Reading John 13:1-17, 31b-35
       1Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper 3Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. 6He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” 7Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” 8Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” 9Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” 10Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” 11For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.”
12After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? 13You call me Teacher and Lord — and you are right, for that is what I am. 14So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.

31When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. 32If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. 33Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Sermon
My Nana was not much of a cook.  Veg-All made a regular appearance on her table and a bowl of cereal constituted dinner most nights.  We always had to stand guard over the coffee pot when it was time to make a new one, because she had a tendency to just brew a second pot with the same grounds as the first. 

But there were two things my Nana loved to cook: 'nana pudding and chocolate chip cookies.  My sister's favorite was the 'nana pudding, mine were the Nestle Toll House cookies.  They were a little burned on the bottom, but I didn't mind.  She always had a jar full of them when I visited.  When she got to where she wasn't able to make them anymore, she had someone else do it for her.  Nana had this sing-songy way of saying she loved you, with the same tone of voice she'd used when we were toddlers: “I luuuv ya!”  I never doubted that she loved me.  But I never believed it more than when I was munching on one of those extra-crispy Nestle Toll House cookies.

And so when my Nana was in the hospital nearing the end of her life, we gathered there with a little loaf of bread and a small bottle of Welch's grape juice.  I read Psalm 139 to her:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me.  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.  You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.  Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence?  If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.  In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.  How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!  How vast is the sum of them.  I try to count them – they are more than the sand.  I come to the end – I am still with you.

I told her about how Jesus gathered with his friends on his last night on earth and took bread, blessed and broke it, saying, “This is my body, broken for you.”  I told her about how Jesus took a cup and poured wine in it, saying, “This is the cup of the new covenant, sealed in my blood.  Drink of it for the forgiveness of sins.”  Then we prayed, and I soaked some of the bread in the juice because she was having trouble swallowing.  And I, who had been so loved through chocolate chip cookies for my whole life, fed my Nana.  The next day, she left this life for eternal life. 

I'm still fond of burnt chocolate chip cookies.

On his last night on earth, Jesus did not drill his disciples on theology to be sure they had it all right.  He did not give them weapons and teach them how to defend themselves against those who were already plotting to persecute them.  He did not give them a grand flowery speech like a half-time coach trying to keep their team motivated while it's clear things are not going their way. 

He took bread, and broke it, and fed them.  He then showed his love for them even more in kneeling on the ground and, like a servant, washing their filthy feet, revealing the glory of God in the most mundane of actions.  The disciples knew Jesus loved them, but there could be no doubt about that love when he washed and fed the one who would betray him.  And then he gave them a new commandment – a maundatum – which we remember this Maundy Thursday. 

Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.   By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

When it is your last night on this earth, very little matters.  Ancient grudges, life's worries and hardships, revenge and anger: these don't matter.  All that remains on that last night is love.  Love in food lovingly prepared, in humble service, in forgiveness even before guilt is admitted.  Love nailed to the cross that could not defeat it.  Love is the only thing we take with us into eternal life, and it's the only thing worth carrying around in this life.

Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence?  If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.  In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.  How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!  How vast is the sum of them.  I try to count them – they are more than the sand.  I come to the end – I am still with you.
Having loved his own who were in the world, Jesus loved them...to the end. 
At this Table, we remember the Love that spent final hours on earth serving.  We remember the Love shown in being nourished: whether by burned chocolate chip cookies or by this bread and this cup.  We remember that Christ has commanded us to spend each day as if it were our last, knowing that if we love, it is not wasted.  Thanks be to the God who loves us even when we don't deserve it, who washes away our guilt with the waters of grace and who fills us with courage in the face of fear and death, to love as we have been loved.  Amen.