In the name of the one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Have you ever read a story, one that you have read many times before, and have a character pop out at you as if that person had never been there before? You wonder how you never noticed the significance of the person’s actions in all the many times you read the same words? Well, that is what happened to me when I read the Gospel for today. A character I barely noticed before jumped off the page and demanded my attention.
“There is a boy here”, Andrew told Jesus, “who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Imagine this young boy. Thousands of people gathered on the grass along the side of the Sea of Galilee. Thousands of people who are far from home, who have been draw together by this man who brought healing to the sick. They come without food and without money. Seeing the people, Jesus asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” Philip, being ever practical, looked around and calculated in his head that not even 6 months wages would be enough to give each person a taste of bread. No, not possible to feed this group. Andrew also looked around, assessed the need in relation to the resources he has found among those gathered and came to the same conclusion. No, not possible to feed this group. The need is too great. Yet we have this young boy, quickly passed over by the disciples, not even named in this story, this young boy offers the little he has brought with him. In the face of huge need he offers what he has. 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. How have I not noticed this boy before?
He has changed the way I view this miracle story. The number of people in need doesn’t daunt him With a hopeful heart (and maybe a healthy amount of naïveté), he simply offers to the community what he has. And in Jesus’ hands, his small offering, becomes enough to feed more than five thousand people. This simple meal becomes a feast.
It seems to me that the miracle isn’t just that two thousand years ago Jesus multiplied the bread and fish, it is also the actions of this boy. That makes this story also about a miracle that can continue to happen today.
What if he had kept this food to himself? What if he was overwhelmed by the great need around him and didn’t think to offer his gift? What if he kept his food to himself, fearing if he gave it up he would be left with no food for his journey. But he didn’t allow fear or insecurity get in the way, rather he opened the possibility for miracles to happen.
When I’m faced with great need, I know my temptation is to think that my small gift can’t make a difference. I wonder if that ever happens to you? Sometimes I think we are tempted to say that the gifts God has given us aren’t enough. We hold back because we think what we have to offer won’t make a difference, or it isn’t perfect enough yet, or we are scared there won’t be enough left for ourselves. Holding back doesn’t serve anyone. Holding back doesn’t give Jesus the opportunity to work in and through us. We see this morning that amazing and astounding things can happen when we place what we have into the hands of Jesus.
We don’t have to look far to see this truth in our own lives. I was reminded of it this past Thursday when I attended the worship service at the Crossing. The crossing is a church community housed at the Cathedral that truly welcomes everyone. It is filled with people who spend their lives on the margins of society. These women and men, many who thought there was no place for them in church, many who had given up on God, found a community in which they can be fed at the altar and be sent out as agent of God’s love in the world. This all started 7 years ago when the Rev. Stephanie Speller, their lead organizer had an idea of a different way of being church. She gathered some young adults together to imagine what this could look like. They never could have dreamed of the successful ministry that now exists. What if Stephanie or those she gathered looked at the spiritual hunger around them and decided it was just too great? If they had looked into their hands and said, we don’t have enough or let’s wait until we have our plan perfected, hundreds of people would not have been touched by the loved of God and this life-giving and life-changing community would not have been born. By placing what they did have in the hands of Jesus and in service of the community, their gifts multiplied, people were fed, and Christ Jesus was made known.
Or we can think about Circle of Hope, an organization that now serves hundreds of homeless and poor people in Boston. This organization that has helped so many people started with a few donations in the garage of a Christ Church parishioner. Imagine if she or the leaders who followed her looked at the number of people in need and did nothing.
These are just two examples but I bet if we pulled this group together we would have as many examples as there are people in this chapel. We can trust the words written by Paul in his letter to the Ephesians, “now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generation, forever and ever.”
The invitation in today’s Gospel reading is to be like the boy who gives what he has in order that all can be fed. No matter how insignificant it might seem to us we can trust that in the hands of Jesus, great miracles can happen, much more than we can ask or imagine. Great abundance is possible.
Amen.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Pentecost VI - Charles Dale
From the Gospel according to Mark: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us? And they took offense at him.”
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Do you ever hear a song that you can’t get out of your head? For me, the last time was a few years ago and the song was “One of Us” by Joan Osborne. Do you remember it?
Compare that, for a moment, with the name that Jesus taught us to use - “Abba”, which is often translated as “Father”. But it’s even more personal than that. If you grow up speaking Hebrew as Jesus did, the first words you learn are most likely “imah” and “abba”, so perhaps we could get a better sense of them as “mommy” and “daddy”, terms of endearment from a young child to his or her loving parents.
Wow. Talk about contrasts. So, which is it? The unutterable, unknowable Immensity? Or the loving Papa? I think it’s both. As Christians, we grow up saying the Lord’s Prayer - “Our Father, who art in Heaven...”, but I think we would also do well to hold on to a bit of “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha’olam...”.
I think Joan Osborne gets at this by inviting us to consider how we would address God if (and here it should really be “when”) we come face to face with Him in all His glory. It makes me shudder just to think about it.
But when God entered the world, everything changed. God showed us His face – the face of Mary’s son, the face of a carpenter, the face of a slob like one of us. And what of the people who saw Jesus face to face? In a way, they did die. Their old lives were ended and they were reborn! Jesus was not someone you could go visit once a week for a nice chat. He said, “Follow me”, and they dropped everything – EVERYTHING – and followed him.
The people in today’s Gospel reading who took offense weren’t stupid and they weren’t evil. They simply couldn’t fathom how this guy could possibly be the King of the Universe. In fairness, it wasn’t until after the Resurrection that most of Jesus’ closest friends and followers came to fully realize who and what He was. God – the creator and ruler of all time and space – became a human being – one of us. “What if God was one of us?” God is one of us! Alleluia!
So come to the table! Come with love for Abba, the Father. Come with awe for Adonai, the Lord and King of all creation. Come with thanksgiving for Jesus, who became one of us so that we all might be saved. Meet Him face to face in all His glory and be changed forever.
Amen.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Do you ever hear a song that you can’t get out of your head? For me, the last time was a few years ago and the song was “One of Us” by Joan Osborne. Do you remember it?
What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us?This song is full of questions - questions that, if you think about them seriously, do not have easy answers.
Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home.
If God had a name, what would it be?Well, this first question is interesting in a couple of ways. The Bible makes a pretty big deal out of the name of God. In Exodus, chapter 3, we read:
And would you call it to His face if you were faced with Him in all His glory?
What would you ask if you had just one question?
But Moses said to God, "If I come to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM." He said further, "Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'I AM has sent me to you.'" God also said to Moses, "Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'The LORD, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you': This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.In Hebrew, the name of God is written with four letters, יהוה (yodh he waw he). This is referred to as the tetragrammaton, and is pronounced in English as “Yahweh” or “Jehovah”. I know people who never write this out, even in English. They write G-d instead. This is to avoid all possibility of using the name of God in vain. As you may know, my wife is Jewish, and I’ve been to quite a few Jewish services over the course of our 31+ years together. Something that strikes me about many of the Jewish prayers is that they begin with the words, “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha'olam...”, which means “Blessed are you O Lord our God, King of the Universe...” Two things about this are worth noting - there’s no mention of Yahweh, even though we translate it as “Lord our God”. The word “Adonai” is literally “Lord” and the rest is understood. And even “Adonai” is not written out. It is abbreviated as יי (yodh yodh). As it has been explained to me, the Jewish faith holds God as the unapproachable, omnipotent, omniscient Creator of Everything, whose name is so holy that humans dare not even speak it.
Compare that, for a moment, with the name that Jesus taught us to use - “Abba”, which is often translated as “Father”. But it’s even more personal than that. If you grow up speaking Hebrew as Jesus did, the first words you learn are most likely “imah” and “abba”, so perhaps we could get a better sense of them as “mommy” and “daddy”, terms of endearment from a young child to his or her loving parents.
Wow. Talk about contrasts. So, which is it? The unutterable, unknowable Immensity? Or the loving Papa? I think it’s both. As Christians, we grow up saying the Lord’s Prayer - “Our Father, who art in Heaven...”, but I think we would also do well to hold on to a bit of “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha’olam...”.
I think Joan Osborne gets at this by inviting us to consider how we would address God if (and here it should really be “when”) we come face to face with Him in all His glory. It makes me shudder just to think about it.
And, what would you ask if you had just one question?One question? Really? I have too many to count. Think for a moment. What would you ask? Why are we here? What happened before the beginning of the universe? Why is there so much suffering in the world? Why do we have to die? What is the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything? Are we the only intelligent beings in all of Creation? Why is the mass of the Higgs boson 125.3 GeV? But I digress... Philosophy, Science and Religion have all tried to answer these and countless other questions throughout human history. Just one question? I wouldn’t know where to begin. The good news, I suppose, is that I am certain that when we come face to face with God, we will have all the answers we could ever hope for. Perhaps this earthly life is, in part, our opportunity to learn the questions.
If God had a face what would it look like?Again, we read in Exodus, chapter 33:
And would you want to see if seeing meant that you would have to believe
in things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints and all the prophets?
Moses said, "I pray thee, show me thy glory." And [God] said, "I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you my name 'The LORD'… But," he said, "you cannot see my face; for man shall not see me and live." And the LORD said, "Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand upon the rock; and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen."I’m pretty sure that Joan wasn’t reading Exodus when she wrote this song, or else it would have read, “And would you want to see if seeing meant that you would die?” Yikes! I’m guessing her song would not have been nearly as popular...
But when God entered the world, everything changed. God showed us His face – the face of Mary’s son, the face of a carpenter, the face of a slob like one of us. And what of the people who saw Jesus face to face? In a way, they did die. Their old lives were ended and they were reborn! Jesus was not someone you could go visit once a week for a nice chat. He said, “Follow me”, and they dropped everything – EVERYTHING – and followed him.
The people in today’s Gospel reading who took offense weren’t stupid and they weren’t evil. They simply couldn’t fathom how this guy could possibly be the King of the Universe. In fairness, it wasn’t until after the Resurrection that most of Jesus’ closest friends and followers came to fully realize who and what He was. God – the creator and ruler of all time and space – became a human being – one of us. “What if God was one of us?” God is one of us! Alleluia!
So come to the table! Come with love for Abba, the Father. Come with awe for Adonai, the Lord and King of all creation. Come with thanksgiving for Jesus, who became one of us so that we all might be saved. Meet Him face to face in all His glory and be changed forever.
Amen.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Pentecost IV - Lynn Campbell
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
Some of my favorite memories are times I spent on the water. As I kid I spent two weeks every summer at an overnight camp and during those two weeks went sailing every day. It was heaven for me. I loved everything about sailing- being surrounded by water, controlling the direction and speed of the boat, looking out to the horizon and back to the coast. It felt so freeing. I remember sitting in my cabin with a list of the points of sail until I could list each one from close hauled to very broad reach. I wanted to ensure I could get the sail in just the right direction to take advantage of the wind.
And it was just over a year ago that I had the opportunity to travel on a boat on the Sea of Galilee. The same sense of peace and freedom I felt as a child came back to me. I remember looking out on the mountains that surround the Sea, the vibrant colors of the landscape, the calm water, the blue sky and the bright sun. As we sat on the boat, in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, our leader read the Gospel reading we heard proclaimed this morning. We sat on the boat in silence taking in the scripture story, the surroundings, and the message Jesus had for us that day. There are few times in my life I’ve felt such peace as on the Sea of Galilee at that moment. I felt Jesus’ presence in the boat, by my side. Although there is a part of me that wishes a storm came that afternoon, if nothing else it would make for good sermon material, the winds remained calm and the water smooth.
I’m told that the weather on the Sea of Galilee can change in an instant. A storm can brew with little warning and the waters can quickly change from smooth to stormy. One such storm came upon the disciples in today’s Gospel reading and they feared for their lives. Even these veteran fishermen panicked as the boat began to take on water. In my imagination I can see them rushing around, trying to figure out how to keep the boat afloat, and then looking over to see Jesus comfortably asleep on a cushion. “Teacher”, they call out, “do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus wakes up to their call for help, he rebukes the wind and tells the sea, “Peace! Be Still!
I’m sure we can all think of times in our lives in which storms have surfaced. Some are expected and some surprise us. Maybe it is the sickness of a family member or moving out of our homes, perhaps it is child graduating and going on to college or the loss of a job. Our lives are filled with storms, some large and some small. Sometimes it feels like the wind and waves threaten to take us over and other times it is simply noticing the stronger winds and changing sky. Storms are a natural part of our lives. So, if shifts in the weather or inevitable, what do we do when we are in the midst of a sea change? What do we do when we feel fear of the unknown begin to creep in? Today’s Gospel tells us to put our eyes on and our faith in Jesus. Jesus is the calm center in the midst of anxiety. He is present to the fear but is not drawn into it. He does not join the disciples in their panic. He does not quickly try to bail the water out of the ship or become frozen with fear. Instead he speaks the words: “Peace. Be still.”
Just as shifts in the winds occur in our individual lives, they are bound to happen in our communal life. As we found out this week, our congregation will be experiencing a change in the wind. Skip, our Rector of nearly 10 years, announced that he will be retiring as of January 6th. He is following the call of the Spirit to spent more time with Kathy, his children and his grandchildren. Skip has been such an amazing gift to this community as a whole and to each of us as individuals. It is natural that we will feel a range of emotions now and in the months to come. But Jesus message to his disciples 2000 years ago is just as relevant for us know. Peace. Be still. Have faith.
There will be plenty of time over the next 6 months to say good–bye. There will be time to share with Skip and with Kathy our gratitude for their time at Christ Church, for all they have done and for who they are to us. But we do this while keeping our eyes focused on Jesus who is the true source of peace, the source of love, the source of our very lives. In the midst of our anxiety and our sadness, in the midst of the changes and chances of this life, we cling to Jesus and remember that he is doing more for us than we can ask or imagine.
As a church we are in a very good place. We have a congregation that is growing and is filled with a wonderful energy. We have a very capable vestry that is dedicated to the church and to our mission. And we have a staff that is ready and able to meet the challenges and the opportunities that are ahead of us. The winds have changed but we will adjust our sail and we will continue to do the work that has been entrusted to us. As Skip wrote in his letter to the congregation, “We cannot desist from the momentum we have created together…” And that is exactly right. There are people who are hurting, there are people in need of God’s message of reconciling love, there are people who go without the basic necessities of life while others of us have more than we need. God’s mission of peace and justice, of love and freedom continues and the need for us to come together in this mission is great.
We can weather the storms in our personal lives and the changes in our communal life because the risen Christ is in the boat with us. We can look to him, cling to him, when we are faced with uncertainties. We can put our faith and trust in him. Jesus didn’t promise us that there wouldn’t be storms, but he did promise to be with us. Always. Even until the end of time. And that hope, that promise, is at the very heart of our Christian faith and life.
Amen.
Some of my favorite memories are times I spent on the water. As I kid I spent two weeks every summer at an overnight camp and during those two weeks went sailing every day. It was heaven for me. I loved everything about sailing- being surrounded by water, controlling the direction and speed of the boat, looking out to the horizon and back to the coast. It felt so freeing. I remember sitting in my cabin with a list of the points of sail until I could list each one from close hauled to very broad reach. I wanted to ensure I could get the sail in just the right direction to take advantage of the wind.
And it was just over a year ago that I had the opportunity to travel on a boat on the Sea of Galilee. The same sense of peace and freedom I felt as a child came back to me. I remember looking out on the mountains that surround the Sea, the vibrant colors of the landscape, the calm water, the blue sky and the bright sun. As we sat on the boat, in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, our leader read the Gospel reading we heard proclaimed this morning. We sat on the boat in silence taking in the scripture story, the surroundings, and the message Jesus had for us that day. There are few times in my life I’ve felt such peace as on the Sea of Galilee at that moment. I felt Jesus’ presence in the boat, by my side. Although there is a part of me that wishes a storm came that afternoon, if nothing else it would make for good sermon material, the winds remained calm and the water smooth.
I’m told that the weather on the Sea of Galilee can change in an instant. A storm can brew with little warning and the waters can quickly change from smooth to stormy. One such storm came upon the disciples in today’s Gospel reading and they feared for their lives. Even these veteran fishermen panicked as the boat began to take on water. In my imagination I can see them rushing around, trying to figure out how to keep the boat afloat, and then looking over to see Jesus comfortably asleep on a cushion. “Teacher”, they call out, “do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus wakes up to their call for help, he rebukes the wind and tells the sea, “Peace! Be Still!
I’m sure we can all think of times in our lives in which storms have surfaced. Some are expected and some surprise us. Maybe it is the sickness of a family member or moving out of our homes, perhaps it is child graduating and going on to college or the loss of a job. Our lives are filled with storms, some large and some small. Sometimes it feels like the wind and waves threaten to take us over and other times it is simply noticing the stronger winds and changing sky. Storms are a natural part of our lives. So, if shifts in the weather or inevitable, what do we do when we are in the midst of a sea change? What do we do when we feel fear of the unknown begin to creep in? Today’s Gospel tells us to put our eyes on and our faith in Jesus. Jesus is the calm center in the midst of anxiety. He is present to the fear but is not drawn into it. He does not join the disciples in their panic. He does not quickly try to bail the water out of the ship or become frozen with fear. Instead he speaks the words: “Peace. Be still.”
Just as shifts in the winds occur in our individual lives, they are bound to happen in our communal life. As we found out this week, our congregation will be experiencing a change in the wind. Skip, our Rector of nearly 10 years, announced that he will be retiring as of January 6th. He is following the call of the Spirit to spent more time with Kathy, his children and his grandchildren. Skip has been such an amazing gift to this community as a whole and to each of us as individuals. It is natural that we will feel a range of emotions now and in the months to come. But Jesus message to his disciples 2000 years ago is just as relevant for us know. Peace. Be still. Have faith.
There will be plenty of time over the next 6 months to say good–bye. There will be time to share with Skip and with Kathy our gratitude for their time at Christ Church, for all they have done and for who they are to us. But we do this while keeping our eyes focused on Jesus who is the true source of peace, the source of love, the source of our very lives. In the midst of our anxiety and our sadness, in the midst of the changes and chances of this life, we cling to Jesus and remember that he is doing more for us than we can ask or imagine.
As a church we are in a very good place. We have a congregation that is growing and is filled with a wonderful energy. We have a very capable vestry that is dedicated to the church and to our mission. And we have a staff that is ready and able to meet the challenges and the opportunities that are ahead of us. The winds have changed but we will adjust our sail and we will continue to do the work that has been entrusted to us. As Skip wrote in his letter to the congregation, “We cannot desist from the momentum we have created together…” And that is exactly right. There are people who are hurting, there are people in need of God’s message of reconciling love, there are people who go without the basic necessities of life while others of us have more than we need. God’s mission of peace and justice, of love and freedom continues and the need for us to come together in this mission is great.
We can weather the storms in our personal lives and the changes in our communal life because the risen Christ is in the boat with us. We can look to him, cling to him, when we are faced with uncertainties. We can put our faith and trust in him. Jesus didn’t promise us that there wouldn’t be storms, but he did promise to be with us. Always. Even until the end of time. And that hope, that promise, is at the very heart of our Christian faith and life.
Amen.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Pentecost - Lynn Campbell
Acts 2:1-21, John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15
May God’s Word be spoken and God’s Word be Heard. Amen.
This morning we gather together to celebrate Pentecost, one of the major feasts days of the church. Although it doesn’t come with the secular trimmings of Easter and Christmas, it is no less important. Pentecost comes 50 days after Easter and 10 days after we celebrate the Ascension of Jesus, the Risen Christ ascending to his Father in Heaven. But as we heard in this morning’s Gospel reading, as Jesus prepares his disciples for his departure from this world, he promises that he will send them the Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to walk with them and to guide them. His followers will not be left alone. This is a promise that God fulfills at Pentecost, giving birth to the church.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” The same Spirit that breathed life into all of creation, the same Spirit that descended upon Jesus at his baptism, was now being shared with ALL people. And, that same Spirit IS blowing in our church today. I know this because I witness the Spirit’s movement so often in our life together.
At Pentecost, the Spirit gave the disciples the ability to speak of the powerful deeds of God in a way that allowed for the crowds, many of who were from a different land and spoke a different language, to understand. Stories of the power of God were spoken AND heard. The Good News of God in Christ was shared with all people regardless of language, native land, age, sex or social status.
Those of us who have been baptized into the one Body of Christ have been given the gift of the Spirit. This gift isn’t just for us to enjoy. The spirit propels us forward, compels us to be bearers of the Good News, to share the story of Jesus Christ that has been handed down to us AND to share the ways in which the Spirit continues to breathe new life in us and in the world.
One of the great joys of being a priest in this community is the privilege of hearing the stories of how the Spirit IS working in your lives. And regularly I witness the Spirit sweeping in and through this congregation. It’s an amazing thing. Unfortunately we don’t have many opportunities to share these stories with one another and we don’t always have the confidence to share them with friends, classmates, neighbors or co-workers. But I know from experience that these stories are too important not to share.
Its one thing to invite someone to Christ Church, but it is completely different when you share with someone how you see the Spirit working at Christ Church and invite that person to be a part of it. You can encourage someone to go with you to Shelter Cooking, but how much more powerful is it to share how you have witnessed the Spirit in your conversation with a homeless woman.
The Spirit is pulsing through this community if we have eyes to see it. Let me share with you one example from just last Sunday. At the 10am service we called forward 23 youth and adults to recognize their Confirmation and Reception into the Episcopal Church. 23 of our members made the conscious decision to say yes to living out the baptismal covenant in their lives. And then we called forward the more than 15 church school teachers who have dedicated so much of their free time to sharing the love of God and the story of our faith with our children. The Spirit went with us from the church to the back porch when we gathered for a parish cookout. Young and old, newcomers and faithful members, woman and men all came together. I saw people who grew up in this church chatting with families who have only been here for a few weeks. I saw kids running around playing whiles others sat watching them with big smiles on their faces.
This is a community in which the Spirit IS moving. And just as it was for the first followers of Jesus, it is important for us to hear these stories from one another and to have the opportunity to voice them ourselves. So we are going to try something different this morning. In a moment I’m going to invite you to find a partner and share with that person a way in which you see the Spirit alive in this Community. It might be something you saw or heard, a time you volunteered with the church, or a piece of music you heard. Each person will share his or her experience for 2 minutes. After two minutes we’ll take a deep breath and it will be time for the second person to share. I know this is not the norm for a sermon but I encourage you to give it a try! So, find your partner and get started.
(share stories with one another)
I hope you feel as blessed by the stories you heard and shared as I am every time I hear them from you. I invite you during this season of Pentecost to practice being curious about how the spirit is moving in your life and in the life of this community. Ask people how they experience the Spirit and be willing to share your stories with your neighbors and friends. The same Spirit that has been present since the beginning of creation is still being poured out onto us. And that is good news worth sharing. Amen.
May God’s Word be spoken and God’s Word be Heard. Amen.
This morning we gather together to celebrate Pentecost, one of the major feasts days of the church. Although it doesn’t come with the secular trimmings of Easter and Christmas, it is no less important. Pentecost comes 50 days after Easter and 10 days after we celebrate the Ascension of Jesus, the Risen Christ ascending to his Father in Heaven. But as we heard in this morning’s Gospel reading, as Jesus prepares his disciples for his departure from this world, he promises that he will send them the Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to walk with them and to guide them. His followers will not be left alone. This is a promise that God fulfills at Pentecost, giving birth to the church.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” The same Spirit that breathed life into all of creation, the same Spirit that descended upon Jesus at his baptism, was now being shared with ALL people. And, that same Spirit IS blowing in our church today. I know this because I witness the Spirit’s movement so often in our life together.
At Pentecost, the Spirit gave the disciples the ability to speak of the powerful deeds of God in a way that allowed for the crowds, many of who were from a different land and spoke a different language, to understand. Stories of the power of God were spoken AND heard. The Good News of God in Christ was shared with all people regardless of language, native land, age, sex or social status.
Those of us who have been baptized into the one Body of Christ have been given the gift of the Spirit. This gift isn’t just for us to enjoy. The spirit propels us forward, compels us to be bearers of the Good News, to share the story of Jesus Christ that has been handed down to us AND to share the ways in which the Spirit continues to breathe new life in us and in the world.
One of the great joys of being a priest in this community is the privilege of hearing the stories of how the Spirit IS working in your lives. And regularly I witness the Spirit sweeping in and through this congregation. It’s an amazing thing. Unfortunately we don’t have many opportunities to share these stories with one another and we don’t always have the confidence to share them with friends, classmates, neighbors or co-workers. But I know from experience that these stories are too important not to share.
Its one thing to invite someone to Christ Church, but it is completely different when you share with someone how you see the Spirit working at Christ Church and invite that person to be a part of it. You can encourage someone to go with you to Shelter Cooking, but how much more powerful is it to share how you have witnessed the Spirit in your conversation with a homeless woman.
The Spirit is pulsing through this community if we have eyes to see it. Let me share with you one example from just last Sunday. At the 10am service we called forward 23 youth and adults to recognize their Confirmation and Reception into the Episcopal Church. 23 of our members made the conscious decision to say yes to living out the baptismal covenant in their lives. And then we called forward the more than 15 church school teachers who have dedicated so much of their free time to sharing the love of God and the story of our faith with our children. The Spirit went with us from the church to the back porch when we gathered for a parish cookout. Young and old, newcomers and faithful members, woman and men all came together. I saw people who grew up in this church chatting with families who have only been here for a few weeks. I saw kids running around playing whiles others sat watching them with big smiles on their faces.
This is a community in which the Spirit IS moving. And just as it was for the first followers of Jesus, it is important for us to hear these stories from one another and to have the opportunity to voice them ourselves. So we are going to try something different this morning. In a moment I’m going to invite you to find a partner and share with that person a way in which you see the Spirit alive in this Community. It might be something you saw or heard, a time you volunteered with the church, or a piece of music you heard. Each person will share his or her experience for 2 minutes. After two minutes we’ll take a deep breath and it will be time for the second person to share. I know this is not the norm for a sermon but I encourage you to give it a try! So, find your partner and get started.
(share stories with one another)
I hope you feel as blessed by the stories you heard and shared as I am every time I hear them from you. I invite you during this season of Pentecost to practice being curious about how the spirit is moving in your life and in the life of this community. Ask people how they experience the Spirit and be willing to share your stories with your neighbors and friends. The same Spirit that has been present since the beginning of creation is still being poured out onto us. And that is good news worth sharing. Amen.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Easter VII - Skip Windsor
The
Ministry of the Just
Early
in my ordained ministry, I served churches as an interim priest in Weston,
Milton and Newton. As many of you may know an interim priest serves a
congregation during rector vacancies for a period of one to two years. An
interim does not have the authority of a rector but he or she does lead
worship, make pastoral calls and teaches adults and Sunday school.
I
remember a visitor coming up to me in Weston after a service and asking me if I
was the rector; and I replied, “No. I am just
the interim priest.” Later that afternoon I reflected upon my answer to the
visitor’s question about being just
an interim. What was I really saying and what was I really saying about my
vocation being just an interim? It was as if I thought being an interim had
less value than a rector; or that somehow I was not as important as a rector.
How
often have you heard someone say: “I
am just a volunteer here;” Or, “I am just
working in the office as a temp;” Or I am just
an enlisted man in the Army. In church circles, the same question could be
asked: “Are you clergy?” “No, I am not a priest. I am just a lay person.” I wonder what Justus would say to people in our
epistle reading today from Acts after he lost the election to Matthias to take
Judas’ place among the apostles: “Hey Justus aren’t you one of the twelve
apostles?” What would Justus say? “No I am just
a disciple?”
This
morning I would like to speak to you about the ministry of the just. I would
like to reflect with you about how there is no need to qualify who we are and
what we do. For in the eyes of God all of us are held with equal value and seen
as worthy of respect and dignity. If we look at today’s text from Acts, we can
wonder what Justus might have felt like after losing the election to Matthias.
And maybe we can learn something from Justus about being more than just “just.”
After
the death self-imposed death of Judas and before the coming of the promised
Holy Spirit, Peter, as the appointed leader of the 120 disciples believed it
was necessary to complete the circle of apostles back to twelve. This was to
re-instate Jesus’ will that the number of apostles matched the same of number
of the tribes of Israel. The qualifications to be an apostle was that
candidates must have known personally Jesus and been with him during his public
ministry from the time of his baptism to his death in Jerusalem.
The
two chosen candidates were Justus and Matthias. Lots were cast in the ancient
tradition of the Jewish Temple when making personnel decisions; and Matthias
won and was added to the twelve. No further in scripture is ever heard about
Justus; but no further word is heard about Matthias either. Scripture is silent
about them. Yet, I would like to believe that losing an election did not stop
Justus from continuing to serve God.
Like
Justus there continues to be faithful Christians who serve with faith and
devotion to God and to their church. Two women who were a lot like Justus were
Rosie Burke and Pearl Blackman two African-American women who started the
Cathedral Monday lunch program over 40 years ago. Were Rosie and Pearl just volunteers? Were they just lay people? Following in the spirit
of Justus, the early faithful disciple of Jesus, they were continuing and
sustaining the ministry of the just.
Just
people are helping others everyday. You and I do not have to look far to see
people helping people whether it is driving a person to a doctor’s appointment,
tutoring a student in history, walking with an Alzheimer’s patient, raising a
foster child, bringing communion to a shut-in, or taking a prayer shawl and a
meal to someone recently released from the hospital.
As
I look out at you, I know the quiet ministries you do without fanfare or
notice. Not all can do such direct ministries every day and all the time but
all of us can support each other through prayer and fellowship. All of us are
connected through the life giving power of the Holy Spirit.
This
is the time for graduations. It is also the season of inaugurations.
Confirmation is more than a graduation; it is also an inauguration into the
mature life of faith. Through instruction and the laying on of hands all 23 of
our youth and adults begin a new stage in the ministries. You are more than
just volunteers and more than just numbers in a parochial report. You are given
gifts and talents through the Holy Spirit.
Just as Jesus called James and John from their
fishing boats, just as the Almighty called the Israelites out of Egypt, just as
God called Amos from the orchards, so God calls you, and each of us, to do the
work of ministry given to us by God through Christ.
When
the circle of twelve apostles was diminished by death to one, the remaining
apostle, John, wrote letters to his beloved friends reminding them that God
gives us a Son; and more than this, through the Son, God gives us a life-a just life to live fully and well. John
sums it up well in his First Letter that we just heard this morning: “God gave
us eternal life; and this life is his Son. Who ever has the Son has life.”
I
will conclude my sermon with the story of a wealthy father and his son who
loved to collect rare works of art. Often they would sit together admiring the
beauty of their collection.
When
the war in Viet Nam broke out the son went to war and was killed saving another
Marine. A month later, a young Marine carrying a large package under his arm
came to see the bereaved father. The Marine told the father how his son saved
him and several other men the day he died. He shared with the father how the
son talked about their love for another and their mutual love of art.
The
Marine held out the package and said this was for the father. Opening the
package, he saw a portrait of his son painted by the young Marine. He stared in
admiration at how well he had captured the likeness of his deceased son. The
father thanked the Marine and offered to pay him for it. The Marine refused
saying that what his son did for him could never be repaid and that the
portrait was a gift.
The
father hung the portrait of his son over his mantle. Every time visitors came
to his home, the father always showed the son’s portrait before showing them
any of the other great works of art he had collected. When the Father died,
there was a great auction for his paintings. Bidders came far and wide hoping
to have the opportunity to purchase one of the great paintings for their own
collection. On the platform among the paintings by Picasso and Raphael sat the
painting of the son.
The
auctioneer started the auction with the painting of the son. No one made a bid
on the painting of the son. The bidders said it was just a painting by some unknown artist. The auctioneer asked for
$100, then $50, and then $15. The bidders protested to move on to the “better”
paintings. The auctioneer continued asking,
“Who will take the son?” Finally,
a humble gardener offered $10 since that was all he had.
“Going
once. Going twice. Sold to the man for $10.” Then the auctioneer suddenly
announced the auction was over. He said there was a stipulation in the father’s
will that whoever takes the son gets everything.
Whoever takes
the Son gets everything. God gives us eternal life
and this life is his Son. Whoever has
the Son has life.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Easter IV - Robert T. Brooks
Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” John 10:11
As I prepared for today, I asked my sister Elizabeth to send me the propers, or lessons for today. On the back flap of the envelope, she wrote, “This is easy.” I laughed. So let’s see if Elizabeth was right.
Today is called “Good Shepherd Sunday.” On this, the fourth Sunday of Easter, we hear excerpts from the 10th chapter of the Gospel according to John, in which images of the shepherd, the sheep, the sheepfold and its door, the hired hand, and of course the predator, the wolf, all make for a provocative and profound picture of what it means for us Easter people to say that we follow the risen Christ.
In today’s reading, Jesus identifies himself as the shepherd, but not just any old shepherd, mind you. Jesus identifies himself as the good shepherd. And to illustrate what he intends for us to imagine, he contrasts himself, the good shepherd, with the hired hand. The hired hand is just that – not a shepherd, really, and not the owner of the sheep. His level of commitment to his job falls far short of the real shepherd, the good shepherd. And the difference between the two, Jesus says, becomes crystal clear when danger turns into potential disaster, when the wolf approaches the flock and attempts to steal and kill the sheep. The hired hand, fearing for his own life, takes off. “I am the good shepherd,” says Jesus. I’m never going to run away from my flock. I’m willing to lay my life down for those sheep.
Now for those of us who are not shepherds, for those of us whose work doesn’t require us to lay our lives on the line in the course of our jobs, it’s a bit hard, isn’t it, to imagine the kind of dedication Jesus is talking about here. So one question I have for us today is this: do we really know what Jesus means when he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. … I lay down my life for the sheep.”
I’ve only known one real shepherd in my life, a man who lived in New Hampshire and kept a flock of sheep for twenty or more years. What always struck me about my friend the shepherd was that wherever it was we were, whatever the occasion, he always went home at night to take care of those sheep. He would drive hundreds of miles in order to be there, so that those sheep wouldn’t be alone overnight.
So when Jesus identifies himself as the good shepherd, the first thing he is saying to us is that we are his, and that he cares for us so much that he is willing to risk his life on our behalf, no matter what. In the face of the perils and dangers we know to be out there, Jesus is here to protect and defend us.
Another thing Jesus tells us is this: “I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.” The relationship Jesus has with each of us is one-on-one, a relationship in which he has an intimate knowledge and understanding of who you are and what you need as one very individual member of this flock. The risen Christ here in our midst knows each of us as if we were members of his family, like a child knows a parent, or a parent knows a child, “just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.”
Have you ever heard yourself say something like this when describing your prayer life: “I m not sure whether it’s okay to pray for this or that. After all, it’s pretty insignificant, maybe too trivial to bring to God’s attention.” What Jesus is saying in this passage is that his relationship with you is one in which he knows you as if you were living in the same household, as if he were your brother, your best friend (all of which, of course, is true), so you can bring anything into your prayers, however trivial it may seem at the moment.
A final important point Jesus makes in this passage is this: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” These verses speak to the question of what about non-believers, the un-churched, people of other denomination, other faith traditions. What does God have in mind for people such as these? And lest we minimize or trivialize this question, think about your friends or members of your family who may fit into one of these categories. Or, on a different level, think about our country, a place in which religious pluralism abounds, or our world, in which Christianity is a distinct minority religion.
What does God have in mind for all those people out there who are not like us? Well, this passage from the Gospel of John strongly suggests that God’s abiding love is inclusive of all of humanity, not just those we can identify as being a member of this flock, and probably more inclusive than any of us can even imagine. After all, God made us all, God loves us all. And Jesus, the good shepherd, is good enough for any sheep that might be out there wandering around.
Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because we are his: Jesus is no contract worker. He’s not a temp in here for the next few weeks. Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because he knows the risks out there, and he’s willing to do everything it takes to protect us, even risking his life for us. Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because he cares about all the sheep, not just the ones here in our little corner of the pasture. He loves all the sheep, wherever it is they are, whether they know him to be the good shepherd or not.
The Greek word here that we translate as “good” has a set of meanings that far exceed our most common definition of good, as in good versus bad, or good versus evil. In fact, for those of you who are dictionary aficionados, you should know that “good” in the sense of “the opposite of bad” is listed as a distant third possibility in the Greek. So if you’ll bear with me for a moment, let’s explore the other definitions, to see if they shed some light on what it means to know Jesus as the good shepherd.
The dominant meaning of this Greek word (kalos) is powerful, strong, excellent, healthy, or serviceable. To say that Jesus is the good shepherd is to say that he is the kind of shepherd who is strong and durable, just right for this job, of the highest quality, a shepherd without any better. I have some friends who rather pretentiously claim sometimes that the possessions they own or the people with whom they associate are the very best, without compare. Without bragging the way my friends do, we can say with certainty that Jesus is the best, the most excellent shepherd there is.
A second set of meanings for the word we translate as “good” includes beautiful, lovely, and attractive. William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury in the early 20th century, translated the opening verse of today’s gospel lesson like this: “I am the shepherd, the beautiful one. The shepherd, the beautiful one, lays down his life for the sheep.” What does it mean for us to know Jesus as the beautiful shepherd? What is it about the shepherd that we find so lovely? Is his attractiveness something physical, or is it something about his person, the essence of who he is? That’s a provocative and useful set of questions, I think, for us to consider this Easter season.
Back to my sister Elizabeth. Was this easy? I’m not sure. But for me, these lessons were certainly illuminating, They were provocative, they were helpful.
Let us pray:
Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads; who, with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
As I prepared for today, I asked my sister Elizabeth to send me the propers, or lessons for today. On the back flap of the envelope, she wrote, “This is easy.” I laughed. So let’s see if Elizabeth was right.
Today is called “Good Shepherd Sunday.” On this, the fourth Sunday of Easter, we hear excerpts from the 10th chapter of the Gospel according to John, in which images of the shepherd, the sheep, the sheepfold and its door, the hired hand, and of course the predator, the wolf, all make for a provocative and profound picture of what it means for us Easter people to say that we follow the risen Christ.
In today’s reading, Jesus identifies himself as the shepherd, but not just any old shepherd, mind you. Jesus identifies himself as the good shepherd. And to illustrate what he intends for us to imagine, he contrasts himself, the good shepherd, with the hired hand. The hired hand is just that – not a shepherd, really, and not the owner of the sheep. His level of commitment to his job falls far short of the real shepherd, the good shepherd. And the difference between the two, Jesus says, becomes crystal clear when danger turns into potential disaster, when the wolf approaches the flock and attempts to steal and kill the sheep. The hired hand, fearing for his own life, takes off. “I am the good shepherd,” says Jesus. I’m never going to run away from my flock. I’m willing to lay my life down for those sheep.
Now for those of us who are not shepherds, for those of us whose work doesn’t require us to lay our lives on the line in the course of our jobs, it’s a bit hard, isn’t it, to imagine the kind of dedication Jesus is talking about here. So one question I have for us today is this: do we really know what Jesus means when he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. … I lay down my life for the sheep.”
I’ve only known one real shepherd in my life, a man who lived in New Hampshire and kept a flock of sheep for twenty or more years. What always struck me about my friend the shepherd was that wherever it was we were, whatever the occasion, he always went home at night to take care of those sheep. He would drive hundreds of miles in order to be there, so that those sheep wouldn’t be alone overnight.
So when Jesus identifies himself as the good shepherd, the first thing he is saying to us is that we are his, and that he cares for us so much that he is willing to risk his life on our behalf, no matter what. In the face of the perils and dangers we know to be out there, Jesus is here to protect and defend us.
Another thing Jesus tells us is this: “I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.” The relationship Jesus has with each of us is one-on-one, a relationship in which he has an intimate knowledge and understanding of who you are and what you need as one very individual member of this flock. The risen Christ here in our midst knows each of us as if we were members of his family, like a child knows a parent, or a parent knows a child, “just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.”
Have you ever heard yourself say something like this when describing your prayer life: “I m not sure whether it’s okay to pray for this or that. After all, it’s pretty insignificant, maybe too trivial to bring to God’s attention.” What Jesus is saying in this passage is that his relationship with you is one in which he knows you as if you were living in the same household, as if he were your brother, your best friend (all of which, of course, is true), so you can bring anything into your prayers, however trivial it may seem at the moment.
A final important point Jesus makes in this passage is this: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” These verses speak to the question of what about non-believers, the un-churched, people of other denomination, other faith traditions. What does God have in mind for people such as these? And lest we minimize or trivialize this question, think about your friends or members of your family who may fit into one of these categories. Or, on a different level, think about our country, a place in which religious pluralism abounds, or our world, in which Christianity is a distinct minority religion.
What does God have in mind for all those people out there who are not like us? Well, this passage from the Gospel of John strongly suggests that God’s abiding love is inclusive of all of humanity, not just those we can identify as being a member of this flock, and probably more inclusive than any of us can even imagine. After all, God made us all, God loves us all. And Jesus, the good shepherd, is good enough for any sheep that might be out there wandering around.
Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because we are his: Jesus is no contract worker. He’s not a temp in here for the next few weeks. Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because he knows the risks out there, and he’s willing to do everything it takes to protect us, even risking his life for us. Why is Jesus the good shepherd? Because he cares about all the sheep, not just the ones here in our little corner of the pasture. He loves all the sheep, wherever it is they are, whether they know him to be the good shepherd or not.
The Greek word here that we translate as “good” has a set of meanings that far exceed our most common definition of good, as in good versus bad, or good versus evil. In fact, for those of you who are dictionary aficionados, you should know that “good” in the sense of “the opposite of bad” is listed as a distant third possibility in the Greek. So if you’ll bear with me for a moment, let’s explore the other definitions, to see if they shed some light on what it means to know Jesus as the good shepherd.
The dominant meaning of this Greek word (kalos) is powerful, strong, excellent, healthy, or serviceable. To say that Jesus is the good shepherd is to say that he is the kind of shepherd who is strong and durable, just right for this job, of the highest quality, a shepherd without any better. I have some friends who rather pretentiously claim sometimes that the possessions they own or the people with whom they associate are the very best, without compare. Without bragging the way my friends do, we can say with certainty that Jesus is the best, the most excellent shepherd there is.
A second set of meanings for the word we translate as “good” includes beautiful, lovely, and attractive. William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury in the early 20th century, translated the opening verse of today’s gospel lesson like this: “I am the shepherd, the beautiful one. The shepherd, the beautiful one, lays down his life for the sheep.” What does it mean for us to know Jesus as the beautiful shepherd? What is it about the shepherd that we find so lovely? Is his attractiveness something physical, or is it something about his person, the essence of who he is? That’s a provocative and useful set of questions, I think, for us to consider this Easter season.
Back to my sister Elizabeth. Was this easy? I’m not sure. But for me, these lessons were certainly illuminating, They were provocative, they were helpful.
Let us pray:
Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads; who, with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Easter Day - Skip Windsor
Christ Is Alive
One of my first contemplative moments at Christ Church was praying with a parishioner in our Sanctuary Garden. I remember standing next to him in prayer looking out at the beautifully landscaped grounds thinking of it as a vision of new life. I imagined life, deep in the soil, among the bricks and ivy, uncoiling and spiraling upwards, upward towards God. In the garden, among the great souls buried there, there pervades the strong belief that life is changed not ended at death.
I do not think it was by accident that the first resurrection appearance was in a garden. The Bible begins in a garden; and it is in the garden of the empty tomb all salvation history bends forward from Adam and Eve’s prideful disobedience to the humble obedience of Jesus and comes to fruition and conclusion. All four gospels agree there was an empty tomb. The biblical texts only vary on who was present in the garden on that first Easter morning.
John writes in his Gospel that there were just three eyewitnesses: Peter, John, and Mary. The two men were Jesus’ closest disciples. Mary was a close disciple of Jesus, too. There is nothing in the Gospels to say she was a woman of infamy. Jesus saved her from a nervous disorder and he gave her a new life. Naturally, she would be grief stricken. But, it was not Mary but Peter and John who were the first to look into the tomb and find it empty. Peter saw and left for home. But, John saw and believed.
Faith first, miracles second. This is the key to John’s entire gospel – it is about faith in Jesus. According to John, Jesus spoke often about the Son of Man being raised from the dead. Seeing the empty tomb in the garden, John knew in faith that Jesus had risen from the dead. Writing his Gospel many years later, John gives seven accounts of Jesus giving signs or miracles that pointed to the truth that he was the Son of God.
I am reminded of the story of faith called “The Tightrope Walker” told by Bishop Michael Curry:
There was a tightrope walker who did amazing things. All over Paris he would do tightrope acts at dazzling heights. Then he had succeeding acts when he would do it blindfolded and then he would walk the tightrope blindfolded again pushing a wheelbarrow. An American promoter read about this man’s feats and invited him to do his act over the Niagara Falls.
After much negotiating and much fanfare, scores of people came to Niagara Falls to see the tightrope walker do his act. The first time he crossed easily.
The second time he crossed the fall blindfolded without a hitch to wild and ecstatic applause. The crowd goes wild and the tightrope walker comes to the promoter and asks him if he believes he can walk the tightrope blindfolded and push a wheelbarrow.
The promoter gushes that of course he can do it. The walker asks the promoter again does he really believe he can do it? Yes, the promoter replies confidently that he can do it. “Good,” says the tightrope walker, “then get in the wheelbarrow!”
Faith first, miracles second; and yet, how often do we say we have faith in God and believe in Jesus Christ but refuse to get into the wheelbarrow? Faith is not absolute certainty, but a readiness to explore the mystery. It is not a method of finding all the answers, but living with the questions. Like hope, faith is an attitude of the mind, and orientation of the spirit.
Daily you and I may grapple with uncertainty and anxiety. We can become skeptical when bad things happen to good people. Our hearts can break when we see injustice in the world. Stresses in life can make us mad and they can make us weep. Faith is tested as such times; and it is in such moments, such unexpected moments, when we seem so isolated, so disconsolate, and so vulnerable, that Jesus, unbidden and unrecognizable, comes to us. Those shuttered personal moments recall the broken heart of Mary at the Empty tomb.
Mary could not leave the garden with Peter and John. She was weighed down with grief. Sadness was her only companion. At first she did not recognize Jesus. She only noticed a gardener standing nearby. It takes his voice and it takes a name, her name, “Mary.” No greater recognition scene in all of history is there than the one between Jesus and Mary in the Garden. And all she wants to do is hold him.
All through Jesus’ ministry people wanted to hold him, touch him or feel him. The woman with the hemorrhage needed only to touch his garment. The unnamed woman with the jar of perfume wanted to anoint his feet. Peter and John wanted to be the ones to sit closest to Jesus. The blind man at the well asks Jesus to heal him with his saliva and a bit of earth.
I remember years ago being in Washington, D.C., and there was a parade for Bobby Kennedy. The crowd was about six people deep and so I couldn’t see Kennedy but I could hear people cheering. Several people ahead of me shouted out, “I see him!” And a little later, further up in the crowd, I heard a young woman shout to no one in particular, “I touched his hand!”
When Jesus tells Mary not to hold him and that he is ascending, he says to Mary and anyone who would be his disciples that we cannot hold on to him in the old ways. We cannot keep things as they once were.
Mary’s faith in him and acceptance of this fact moves her to a new understanding of her relationship with Jesus. The teacher she once knew, the teacher she loved is still the same and more. The world could not hold him. Death could not hold him. Through his resurrection, Jesus brings Mary and all of creation into a new relationship with God.
Mary’s friend, her dearest friend, Jesus, would never leave her again and now be as near to her as breathing. A personal relationship with Jesus becomes more personal. It is no wonder that many people love the old chestnut hymn, In the Garden, and its refrain:
Our Sanctuary Garden points to our Easter faith. It is as if we planted a sign that said, “Christ is alive!” And, if we have faith, we will see other signs all around us that proclaim the resurrection. “Resurrection is not written in just books alone but in every bud of springtime,” writes Martin Luther. April is resurrection month. And the whole direction of Christian faith is upwards.
“We believe verily to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living,” it reads in the 1928 prayer book. Today and during the season of Easter, we are invited “upwards” to do just that… have faith and see God’s goodness in the risen Christ.
Let us pray:
Lift us, O God, to those higher regions where our spirits can grow to their full stature. Give us new life in Christ and help us to share it with others so that they too may know and believe the joy that comes through your great love. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.
One of my first contemplative moments at Christ Church was praying with a parishioner in our Sanctuary Garden. I remember standing next to him in prayer looking out at the beautifully landscaped grounds thinking of it as a vision of new life. I imagined life, deep in the soil, among the bricks and ivy, uncoiling and spiraling upwards, upward towards God. In the garden, among the great souls buried there, there pervades the strong belief that life is changed not ended at death.
I do not think it was by accident that the first resurrection appearance was in a garden. The Bible begins in a garden; and it is in the garden of the empty tomb all salvation history bends forward from Adam and Eve’s prideful disobedience to the humble obedience of Jesus and comes to fruition and conclusion. All four gospels agree there was an empty tomb. The biblical texts only vary on who was present in the garden on that first Easter morning.
John writes in his Gospel that there were just three eyewitnesses: Peter, John, and Mary. The two men were Jesus’ closest disciples. Mary was a close disciple of Jesus, too. There is nothing in the Gospels to say she was a woman of infamy. Jesus saved her from a nervous disorder and he gave her a new life. Naturally, she would be grief stricken. But, it was not Mary but Peter and John who were the first to look into the tomb and find it empty. Peter saw and left for home. But, John saw and believed.
Faith first, miracles second. This is the key to John’s entire gospel – it is about faith in Jesus. According to John, Jesus spoke often about the Son of Man being raised from the dead. Seeing the empty tomb in the garden, John knew in faith that Jesus had risen from the dead. Writing his Gospel many years later, John gives seven accounts of Jesus giving signs or miracles that pointed to the truth that he was the Son of God.
I am reminded of the story of faith called “The Tightrope Walker” told by Bishop Michael Curry:
There was a tightrope walker who did amazing things. All over Paris he would do tightrope acts at dazzling heights. Then he had succeeding acts when he would do it blindfolded and then he would walk the tightrope blindfolded again pushing a wheelbarrow. An American promoter read about this man’s feats and invited him to do his act over the Niagara Falls.
After much negotiating and much fanfare, scores of people came to Niagara Falls to see the tightrope walker do his act. The first time he crossed easily.
The second time he crossed the fall blindfolded without a hitch to wild and ecstatic applause. The crowd goes wild and the tightrope walker comes to the promoter and asks him if he believes he can walk the tightrope blindfolded and push a wheelbarrow.
The promoter gushes that of course he can do it. The walker asks the promoter again does he really believe he can do it? Yes, the promoter replies confidently that he can do it. “Good,” says the tightrope walker, “then get in the wheelbarrow!”
Faith first, miracles second; and yet, how often do we say we have faith in God and believe in Jesus Christ but refuse to get into the wheelbarrow? Faith is not absolute certainty, but a readiness to explore the mystery. It is not a method of finding all the answers, but living with the questions. Like hope, faith is an attitude of the mind, and orientation of the spirit.
Daily you and I may grapple with uncertainty and anxiety. We can become skeptical when bad things happen to good people. Our hearts can break when we see injustice in the world. Stresses in life can make us mad and they can make us weep. Faith is tested as such times; and it is in such moments, such unexpected moments, when we seem so isolated, so disconsolate, and so vulnerable, that Jesus, unbidden and unrecognizable, comes to us. Those shuttered personal moments recall the broken heart of Mary at the Empty tomb.
Mary could not leave the garden with Peter and John. She was weighed down with grief. Sadness was her only companion. At first she did not recognize Jesus. She only noticed a gardener standing nearby. It takes his voice and it takes a name, her name, “Mary.” No greater recognition scene in all of history is there than the one between Jesus and Mary in the Garden. And all she wants to do is hold him.
All through Jesus’ ministry people wanted to hold him, touch him or feel him. The woman with the hemorrhage needed only to touch his garment. The unnamed woman with the jar of perfume wanted to anoint his feet. Peter and John wanted to be the ones to sit closest to Jesus. The blind man at the well asks Jesus to heal him with his saliva and a bit of earth.
I remember years ago being in Washington, D.C., and there was a parade for Bobby Kennedy. The crowd was about six people deep and so I couldn’t see Kennedy but I could hear people cheering. Several people ahead of me shouted out, “I see him!” And a little later, further up in the crowd, I heard a young woman shout to no one in particular, “I touched his hand!”
When Jesus tells Mary not to hold him and that he is ascending, he says to Mary and anyone who would be his disciples that we cannot hold on to him in the old ways. We cannot keep things as they once were.
Mary’s faith in him and acceptance of this fact moves her to a new understanding of her relationship with Jesus. The teacher she once knew, the teacher she loved is still the same and more. The world could not hold him. Death could not hold him. Through his resurrection, Jesus brings Mary and all of creation into a new relationship with God.
Mary’s friend, her dearest friend, Jesus, would never leave her again and now be as near to her as breathing. A personal relationship with Jesus becomes more personal. It is no wonder that many people love the old chestnut hymn, In the Garden, and its refrain:
And he walks with me and talks to meEaster awakes us; and an awakened person in Christ, alert to the stirrings of the soil, the beauty of the earth, and the enduring mystery of our lives and of Life comes a deep delight, a growing gladness, a ripe readiness and an active affirmation. The joy of life brings the promise and possibility of a renewed hope that all creation is infused with grace and glory.
And tells me I am his own,
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
Our Sanctuary Garden points to our Easter faith. It is as if we planted a sign that said, “Christ is alive!” And, if we have faith, we will see other signs all around us that proclaim the resurrection. “Resurrection is not written in just books alone but in every bud of springtime,” writes Martin Luther. April is resurrection month. And the whole direction of Christian faith is upwards.
“We believe verily to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living,” it reads in the 1928 prayer book. Today and during the season of Easter, we are invited “upwards” to do just that… have faith and see God’s goodness in the risen Christ.
Let us pray:
Lift us, O God, to those higher regions where our spirits can grow to their full stature. Give us new life in Christ and help us to share it with others so that they too may know and believe the joy that comes through your great love. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.
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