Sermons

Sermons

21
Nov

The Reign of Christ

2 Samuel 23:1-7 Psalm 132:1-13 (14-19) Revelation 1:4b-8 John 18:33-37

Ollantaytambo is an ancient Inca stone fortress near Cusco, Peru deep in the Andes Mountains.  Centuries ago, the fortress provided safe haven for Inca royalty and military leadership, looking down upon strategically designed terraces for crop production on the steep mountainside, and serving as sacred worship space.  The Inca worshiped the sun god, so the higher the elevation, the closer to their deity.  

We visited the town and climbed the Ollantaytambo fortress on our second day in Peru.  With consideration to our having lived our entire lives at or just above sea level, our daughter had planned our trip giving much thought to the necessity of adjusting to the high elevations and reduced oxygen.  Ollantaytambo is at 9,000 feet and was one of our most challenging climbs. 

Ollantaytambo was constructed over many years of its people leveraging enormous stones from miles away, across the river and up the mountain where the stones were honed and fitted together, building an altar to the sky.  The rugged irregular stone steps are not designed for easy mobility.  And I, thoughtlessly, had not taken time to study the itinerary, the rigorous expectations, or the suggestions for clothing and footwear.  

Nevertheless, I was not to be deterred.  Ugh! I would keep up with our small group of four – our daughter and her friend and our tour guide.   As we climbed into the thin air, I huffed and puffed.  Our guide graciously took my bag to lighten my load; my daughter took my water bottle so that my hands would be free to steady myself on the ascending rocks, admitting it was not easy for her either.   So, I was not alone; and together we made it to the top of Ollantaytambo where we were rewarded with amazing views and an awareness of the inconceivable strength and commitment of the Inca people so many centuries ago as they struggled to live with and into the natural environment of their homeland in the sky.

This morning, on this last Sunday of our Church year, interestingly, we turn our thoughts to Jesus as he stands alone and condemned before Pilate.  Within hours, he would suffer immeasurably; he would make his climb to the cross upon rocky paths where he would be crucified, die, and be buried.  As we place ourselves in this tense and disconsolate setting, we are incredibly aware of Jesus’ aloneness; there is no one to lighten Jesus’ load; there is no one to encourage him on his difficult journey.  No one can stand in this place but Jesus.  He stands alone, unjustly condemned.  Yet, he would make his climb and he would rise victorious over death.

Unlike I, Jesus knew well the itinerary.  “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world,” he said to Pilate.  Willingly and knowingly, Jesus stands alone before Pilate.  No one would or could stand with him; this, Jesus must do alone, and only Jesus could do what had to be done.  The load he carried was my sin and your sin – the sin of the world. 

John shares from his Revelation that Jesus Christ, “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  There is nothing of us  – our burdens, our frailties, our fears, our faithlessness – that is not being carried by Jesus Christ as he stands alone before Pilate, unjustly condemned by the world.  He carries it all; we are the burden that Jesus carries – the burden that Jesus knowingly and willingly takes up for our salvation – What wondrous love is this?  The perfect love of Jesus Christ.

Next Sunday brings the beginning of our new Church year – the Season of Advent in which we prepare our hearts and minds for the celebration of the Nativity.  We take renewed joy in candles and carols amidst pink cheeked shepherd boys and mystical angels, smiling cattle and an adoring donkey.  

Yet, in anticipation of that glorious season of celebration that is upon us, it is most important that we pause on this day to contemplate the Reign of Christ, the purpose for which Christ came into the world.  Take time to focus for just these few moments on Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords.  King of kings, immeasurably greater than even the great earthly King David whose last words we have read today from the Second Book of Samuel.

In the weeks to come as we peer into the manger of the nativity scenes that will dot our landscape, take time to contemplate the words of Christ as he stands before Pilate knowingly and willingly taking our burdens upon himself.  Willingly, lovingly, and all alone Jesus affirmed his purpose, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world.”  Stand at the manger and hear these words.

For your salvation, Jesus came into the world as that tiny babe in Bethlehem.  Life’s climbs are steep and rocky, but Jesus knowingly and lovingly takes our burdens upon himself, lightens our load, and assures us that our place at the highest altar is being held for us.  The Alpha and the Omega, all that is, and was, and is to come. 

King of kings and Lord of lords – personal friend and savior to each and every one of us.  For this, Jesus came into the world – to be crucified, dead, and buried, and to rise again, victoriously from the grave.

31
Oct

Shema

Ruth 1:1-18 Psalm 146 Hebrews 9:11-14 Mark 12:28-34

Our daughter and brand-new grandson have been visiting most of this past week while our son-in-law is working out of town.  And, visits from this daughter always include the 4-year-old granddog as well – Bodie, the large lanky lab mix who is most devoted to his “mom.”  

As our daughter packed to leave yesterday, Bodie grew quite anxious.  This new creature in his life is already a weird thing; he’s suspicious about what might happen next.  So, on one of Laura’s trips out with bags in hand, Bodie shot through the door, down the walk and straight to the waiting truck, finding his place in the back between the child car seat and the pile of baby paraphernalia.  If he could have spoken, he would have said, “Hear I sit; you are not leaving me here.”

I couldn’t help but think of Ruth’s words of fearless commitment to her mother-in-law Naomi: 

“Do not press me to leave you 
or to turn back from following you!

Where you go, I will go.” 

If only we could be so doggedly excited and fearlessly committed to God and our neighbor.  What if we charged forth with such single-mindedness in our desire to love and serve the Lord?

There are important traditions in our Jewish heritage that should remain as essential to our daily ritual as they have been to the Jews since ancient times.  One of those essential rituals is the reciting of the Shema’ each morning and each evening.  “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.”

Much like our creeds, the Shema declares and affirms the very foundation of our faith.  We find the Shema first in the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, the fifth book of the Jewish Torah.  

In our lesson from Mark’s Gospel, the scribes and Sadducees in Jesus’ audience were well familiar with the Shema – the essence of their faith.  Of course, they are seeking to confound Jesus’ teaching and force him to incriminate himself.  They have not yet come to accept that the words of the Shema are exactly the foundational message that Jesus is seeking to plant in the heart of all God’s children; the words of the Shema are the reason Jesus has come.  If only they would believe and live diligently and intentionally into these words that they recite each morning and night.

Jesus in being tested by the religious leaders to recite the most important commandment; Jesus speaks the Shema – the primary tenet of their faith:  “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.”

It is in abiding by this first and greatest commandment that we abide by the second: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

This is our rule of life, but it is not a paint-by-numbers rule of life.  Abiding by the greatest commandment requires that we seek communion with God’s will.

To love God with all our heart, we embrace God as our greatest friend; God is by our side at all times; our every thought, action, and word are guided by our awareness of God’s constant presence.  God’s love is visible to others through us when we strive to love God with all our heart.

To love God with all our soul requires engaging with God daily through meditation, contemplative prayer that draws our souls closer and closer to God.  To love God with all our soul is to hold space for God in our daily lives, to hold space for the quiet where God can speak to us rather than remaining in the background through the din of our constant chatter.  Loving God with all our soul requires time set aside to listen to God’s voice.

To love God with all our minds is to love the scripture, to be committed to the study of scripture – God’s word that contains all that is necessary for our salvation.  We cannot fully love God with all our mind if our knowledge of the Bible is limited, if we have not taken time to fall in love with the scripture, to be eager for ongoing study, and to allow God to speak to us through our daily meditation on his word.  God’s word is new and fresh every day; we never finish studying the scripture, loving God with all our mind.

To love God with all our strength means that we honor this earthly human body created in God’s image, this vessel of God’s love.  We care for ourselves; actively working to keep our bodies physically and mentally sound so that we have strength for the journey of sharing God’s love.  And, like all the other guides toward loving God, knowing how to keep ourselves healthy and doing it are separate challenges.  

But nothing good is impossible for God; and nothing good is possible without God.

‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’  Loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength means being fearlessly excited and doggedly committed to God’s call to love and serve our neighbor.  “Lord, where you go,  I will go.” 

17
Oct

Proper 24B

Job 38:1-7, Psalm 104:1-9, 25, 37b Hebrews 5:1-10 Mark 10:35-45

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.

Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?

On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone

when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?”

These are God’s words to Job that we have read this morning.  After four decades as Captain Kirk in a Hollywood-produced outer space, I cannot help wondering how William Shatner is relating to these questions from the Creator of the real earth and space.  His tearful reaction to last week’s 10 minute, 30 second ascension and descension to and from space expressed the extraordinary lifelong impact of the voyage.  Reaching a maximum height of 66.5 miles, just a few miles beyond the internationally recognized boundary between earth and space, Shatner’s words upon return were, “I hope I never recover from this… It’s so much larger than me and life.”  Shatner acknowledges our seeming insignificance in the scheme of creation. 

But God’s words to Job are not intended to reinforce our sense of smallness; God’s words are words of assurance of God’s wisdom and power, God’s provision and protection.  

These words we read from the Book of Job are God’s answer to Job’s complaints in the form of a series of rhetorical questions, essentially:  Where were you when I formed the earth and all therein?  Were you there laying the brick??

The rhetorical questions we read from the Book of Job are directed to Job by God from the whirlwind.  Job, defined as an innocent man, nevertheless has suffered immeasurable tragedy; Job is angry with God; Job dares to question God – to express his immense anger.  

These are not questions through which God intends to browbeat Job; these are questions intended to assure Job of God’s continuous presence and power to save him from adversity.  God reminds Job that he is an awesome God whose power and wisdom are infinite, beyond human understanding.  God has done all this; God can surely rescue Job from his earthly adversity.

We along with Job too often reduce God to a small God; we trust that tomorrow’s sun will rise, but we too often lose sight of the trust that God’s love will rise before the sun.  It is too easy to neglect to trust that our God who created all that we know of our universe and far beyond – the God who knew us long before we were created in our mothers’ wombs – is our all-powerful God who cares for us, wants only what is best for us, and even in death claims us as his own.  

Of all the mega-trillions of human beings conceived since the beginning of humanity, each is individually crafted, every human being is unique in character and personality and physical makeup.  Every sunrise and every sunset from the beginning of time is matchless, each casting its exceptional artwork upon the sky as it enters or departs the day.  Even every snowflake is unique.  So that, though we are a mere speck in the realm of eternity, God loves each of us intimately, calls each of us by name, and knows the very number of the hairs on our head.  Despite the enormity of the universe, God enters our every joy and sorrow.

I’m not proposing to diminish the relevance of our hardships and grief.  Remember that God always answer our prayers:  Sometimes the answer is “yes,” and we feel our prayers specifically fulfilled;  more often, the answer is “Not now,” and God reminds us we are to be patient and persistent; but usually the answer is “I have a better idea,” reminding us that God is working behind the scenes, revealing his presence, transforming our hopes and dreams in accordance to his will into something far more desirable than we could have imagined.

God reveals his presence to us in the life and works of Jesus Christ.  As our Gospel lesson for today begins, James and John request the glory seats on Jesus’ left and right. The great irony of James and John’s request is that it would be two thieves who would fill these positions on Jesus’ left and right as he and they were crucified alongside each other.  Jesus reminds us, “Whoever wishes to be first must be slave of all.”  

Over and over through the predictions of his death and resurrection, Jesus drives home the Gospel message that only by His death and rising again can death be overcome.  Only a human Jesus could live and die as one of us and rise again to overcome death definitively.  What if Jesus had not died for us; what if Jesus had not defeated death by rising again?  What if death was the end?  How would we bear the loss of our loved ones without the promise of joining them in God’s everlasting kingdom?  How would we face our own deaths minus the peace of the promise of eternal life?

We come to understand that only through this overcoming of death can our human sin be redeemed by the sacrifice of another human.  God became human in Jesus Christ to suffer our human tragedies and redeem our sinful humanness.   Our God is an awesome God.

So, where were you when God laid the foundation of the earth?

03
Oct

Real Life

Psalm 26 Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12 Mark 10:2-16

“In these last days, God has spoken to us by a Son… He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being and he sustains all things in his powerful word.”  

The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews confirms that God came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ.  God’s “exact imprint” came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ that we might know God and God might know us through human life.  Jesus came to live and die as one of us.  Jesus came that he might live the real life that we live.  

Had God not come to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ, wouldn’t we be inclined to say, “Oh well, how can I relate to God; how can God relate to me?  God has never known the suffering I have suffered.”  

By virtue of the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we know that in our suffering we may beg comfort from One who has suffered, one who not only experienced human suffering beyond our human suffering but one who suffered for us – for each of us, and one who continues to suffer with us; one who loves us unconditionally and weeps with us in our suffering, one who invites us into inestimable comfort, one who calls us into a peace beyond our understanding.

Jesus came that he might live the real life that we live.  

Jesus came to die the same human death that we will die.  Jesus knew human death.  Our human death is a source of uncertainty for us; if we are honest, the thought of our earthly death is a source of fear and uncertainty.  And, as fearful as it might be, I wonder often what life would be like if we knew we could never die, even when our earthly bodies were completely worn out; what if we could never die?

Divorce, too, is a death – the death of a relationship blessed by God – the tearing apart of a union of two that had been united into one flesh in the sight of God.  Few of us go through life without being touched by divorce, either first-hand or through those we love.  We cannot deny the tragedy of divorce. 

In Jesus’ day, marriage and divorce were male-centered; men negotiated the marriage; men negotiated the divorce if that became expedient for them.  In our Gospel lesson, certainly, Jesus is speaking to the cruelty of the unjust and discriminatory divorce process of his day. 

But we cannot dismiss his admonitions as applicable to the present day.  The words are uncomfortable for us; few of us are unaffected by Jesus’ words; some of us stand convicted by his words.

So, what should we expect?  Would we want Jesus to say that it’s all fine, divorce and remarry to your heart’s content despite the hurt it brings.  Don’t worry; you deserve to be happy.  No, I think not.

None of us can disagree with the reality of the tragedy of divorce.  Yet, from our time in the Garden of Eden, we no longer live in perfect communion with God.  We are frail humans with free will to make poor choices and suffer the consequences of those poor choices.  And, what if there were no provision for divorce?  How often would that be the greater tragedy?

All of us would agree that in an ideal world, there would be no divorce.  Jesus reminds us to set this value as our goal – to move toward this goal rather than away from it.  

By all means and above all else, Jesus goes on to remind us of the tragedy of divorce as it adversely affects our children – those hurt the most by divorce and remarriage.  Jesus refers to the place of children in the Kingdom of God.  As Jesus receives the children, he reminds those around him that it is as a little child would receive the Kingdom of God that we are to receive the Kingdom of God – that is, we are to receive the Kingdom of God with the trustful simplicity of a little child.

The ideal of the human family is our window into the Kingdom of God.  And we are to receive the Kingdom of God with the trustful simplicity of the little child – the little child who looks to us adults as we adults look to God for protection and provision – the little child who does not deserve the hurt caused by the poor decisions of us sometimes-very-selfish adults.  

The writer of the epistle to the Hebrews confirms for us that Jesus Christ is the exact imprint of God’s very being.  God’s very being knows our earthly suffering.  Through Jesus Christ, God knows life as we know it.

Jesus’ words are not words of condemnation, Jesus’ words of words of mercy and grace. Jesus’ guidance is toward the perfection of God’s Kingdom – God’s Kingdom made perfect through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

05
Sep

Hearing and Speaking for the Desperate

Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23 Psalm 125 James 2:1-10, [11-13], 14-17 Mark 7:24-37

Our Gospel lesson shares the account of a desperate woman – so desperate that she is not deterred by the fierce social boundaries that stand between her and her goal; so desperate she risks severe punishment, maybe even death, to throw herself at the feet of Jewish man by the name of Jesus, begging his healing for her demon-possessed daughter.  She is a woman; she is a Syrophoenician; she is a Gentile; her life is cheap; she has no rights in 1st Century Palestine; she has no legitimate claim on Jesus of Nazareth.  Yet, she is a mother desperate for her child’s healing, healing that she is confident only Jesus can offer.  She is a mother with faith in the healing power of Jesus Christ – faith so intense that she will not be diverted from her mission, even as she is rebuked so cruelly by Jesus himself.

This week’s news has been filled with the scenes of many desperate mothers:  Mothers in earth-quake and storm-ravaged Haiti pleading for food and safe lodging for their children; grieving mothers of the thirteen members of our armed forces who were senselessly and brutally murdered in the terrorist suicide attack at Hamid Karzai Airport in Kabul; mothers in flooded towns in Louisiana and the Northeast watching their children grow ill for lack of sanitation and clean drinking water; and hundreds of unseen mothers abandoned and stranded in Afghanistan, horrified that it is only a matter of time before their young daughters will be searched out and ripped from their arms to be sold as sex slaves.  We don’t have to look far to find desperate mothers and fathers willing to risk their lives to save their children, fearless of boundaries that stand in their way, frantically demanding their voices be heard. 

Jesus’ response to this desperate mother introduced in our Gospel lesson is not what we would expect.  In fact, Jesus’ response is appalling.  We are outraged at what we hear as race-based hate speech.  Preachers in pulpits all across the world today are grappling with this cruel dismissal that confronts this desperate outcast mother who comes in ultimate humility begging for her child’s healing.  I have no explanations that would attempt to soften the outrage, but I am certain that Jesus wants us to be outraged by his statement; Jesus wants all who witnessed this event and all who have read of this event over these past 2,000 years to be outraged.

And, the writer of Mark’s Gospel wants us to carry that sense of outrage into the quickly following account of Jesus’ healing of the deaf mute.  It’s always necessary in reading Gospel accounts that we take note of the surrounding elements.  Mark places this next account of the healing of the deaf mute strategically.  We are to be alerted and reminded that it is only through the healing grace of Jesus Christ that we begin to open our ears and lift our voices – opening our hearts in defense of the desperate who are too often marginalized and rebuked – opening our hearts and lowering our voices so that we might hear the struggles of others.

Most of us have experienced the mental torment of not having our voices heard, some of us more than others.  The world is desperate to be heard and to be healed through the grace of Jesus Christ; it is we who are to hear those cries of desperation and lift our own voices.  It is we who are to model the humble absolute unshakable faith of this gutsy female foreign outcast of today’s Gospel lesson. 

James the Evangelist asks us, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works?”  Martin Luther dismissed The Epistle of James as “the epistle of straw” in his campaign against “works righteousness” – the misconception that we can earn our way into heaven with our human hands.  Yes, as the Apostle Paul preaches over and over, we are justified by grace through our faith in Jesus Christ.  Human hands do not earn our way to heaven; only God provides for our salvation through the redemptive power of the Jesus Christ.  But true faith does not allow our hearts and minds and our hands and feet to be idle.

True faith does not allow us to close our ears to the cries of the desperate.  We cannot separate the divine Jesus Christ from the human Jesus of Nazareth; we cannot separate our faith from our works.  

With God’s help, our ears are opened and our voices are raised to bring the desperate of world, kneeling at the feet of Jesus Christ, made whole by their faith in his healing grace. 

22
Aug

Abide in Me

1 Kings 8:[1, 6, 10-11], 22-30, 41-43 Psalm 84 Ephesians 6:10-20 John 6:56-69

Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. 

The image of an Afghani mother surrounded by a threatening mob lifting her tiny infant, likely a female infant, over a wall and into the arms of an unknown and heavily armored US soldier is a powerful image.  So desperate for her child’s safety that she could not provide, this mother entrusted her child to a stranger in whom she had faith would provide safety and preserve life – a life that otherwise would be cut short or subjugated to horrible atrocities.  

This soldier was not Jesus Christ, and I do not mean to appear to advocate any political agenda concerning our military presence around the world, but I do emphasize this image as it relates to our comprehension of Jesus’ abiding presence and our faith in that abiding presence.  Like this child, our destination in life is uncertain; our only certainty is that Jesus is present; Jesus is present in this soldier, known only to this mother as a member of the US military – a trusted advocate in whom Jesus Chris abides. 

 Jesus said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” Again this week, we hear this strange message of Jesus’ words from John’s Gospel.

Jesus is teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum.  Remnants of this synagogue remain.  Unlike many sites so significant to our Christian heritage, no great basilicas have been built over the site of the synagogue in Capernaum to obscure its ancient footprint.  One actually can walk upon the same stones that Jesus walked and sit where Jesus sat. Sitting quietly and reflecting on lessons such as these we have read this morning leaves no doubt of Jesus’ abiding presence.  Truly, one can hear his voice and feel his footsteps approaching.

Jesus emphasizes time and again that his Body is the bread that came down from heaven.  This is not the bread of purely earthly sustenance, which God’s people ate as they followed Moses in the wilderness; these ancestors, in fact, went on to die an earthly death as we all do.  This bread, which Jesus, here with them in the synagogue in Capernaum declares himself to be, is the bread of ever-living life; this bread is Jesus’ flesh and Jesus’ blood.  Outrageously, Jesus says, those who eat this flesh and drink this blood will abide in him, and he will abide in them.

The Jews are strictly forbidden from consuming meat that contains blood.  These earliest followers of Jesus, who were Jews, are confounded by this message.  Jesus willingly expresses his realization that many will turn away from him because they cannot accept this outlandish proclamation.  

Christians and Jews have been debating and disputing just how it is that Jesus makes God accessible to us for over 2,000 years.  For the earliest Israelites, God dwelt in the Ark of the Covenant that they had constructed and carried throughout their trek in the Wilderness.  As we read in our Old Testament lesson from 1 Kings, now, centuries later, with the great Temple of Solomon in place in Jerusalem, they could install the Ark of the Covenant in its inner sanctuary.  God would dwell here in this inner sanctuary – somehow God would dwell here in this earthly place in our very earthly understanding.

As Christians, we believe that God came to earth in the human flesh and blood of Jesus Christ.  Simply put, we define this coming to earth in human form as the Incarnation – the Word made flesh.  Jesus clarified this indwelling of God in the Incarnation.   With the Incarnation, God assures us of his indwelling in all creation, not merely an earthly sanctuary.  

Weekly we affirm our belief that Jesus Christ the Son was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary.  In this way, we cannot dispute our belief that Jesus Christ is fully human, and at the same time fully divine.  The human Jesus opens for us on earth the divine indwelling of God.  The humanity of this Body and Blood that brings us life cannot be separated from its divinity.  We cannot separate the human Jesus from the divine Jesus.

Through the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ, God abides in us and we in God.  We cannot separate the spiritual Jesus who abides in us from the human Jesus who abides through us.  Understanding just how we eat the flesh and drink the blood eludes us; but we get the abiding – We are called to abide in Christ and to be the disclosure of Christ abiding in us.

Those in Jesus audience who could not accept this mission turned away.  This discourse between Jesus and the remaining followers represents the first mention of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ faithful followers – believing that Jesus’ words are the words of eternal life.  As stated by Simon Peter, “We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”  

Too often we fail to acknowledge God’s ever-abiding presence in the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, the smallest act of caring, or a major act of heroism, many of which are occurring in Afghanistan as we rest here is safety and peace.  Whether subtle or stunning, these actions have the potential to turn a life around.  Much like the Ark of the Covenant for the Israelites, these are tangible, visible means through which God through Jesus Christ abides in those around us, those who come to our aid when we need it the most, those through whom we hear the voice of Jesus Christ and feel his footsteps approaching, those assuring us of his presence.  

We cannot separate the heavenly Jesus who abides in us from the human Jesus who abides through us.  Jesus abiding in us and abiding through us is our whole armor of God.  We don’t know our destination in this life, but we trust that we are safely armored in the abiding presence of Jesus Christ.  We hear his voice; we feel the presence of his footsteps – approaching, guiding, standing firm beside us, abiding in us. 

04
Aug

82nd Airborne

John 14:1-6

In this account from John’s Gospel, we read a small portion of the Jesus’ lengthy discourse shared with his closest disciples in that very private room in Jerusalem on the evening before his death. The disciples were gathered with Jesus for the Passover meal. Judas had been dismissed into the night by Jesus who was well aware of Judas’ scheme to betray him.

After their meal together, Jesus had washed the feet of his disciples, leaving with them this profound example of serving and loving one another. For three years, during his ministry in Galilee, the disciples had followed and Jesus had taught them and shown them how they were to carry on his mission and ministry in the world. Now, the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ was coming to an end; Jesus’ message was ever more urgent. Jesus’ lengthy discourse goes on for four chapter of John’s Gospel; Jesus warns the disciples of persecutions that will come; he seeks to bring comfort and peace to them with the promise of the Holy Spirit and with prayers to the Father on their behalf.

Knowing full well of the horror and excruciating pain that were to come in the next hours, Jesus’ full attention was devoted to his disciples as he calmly and diligently planted his words into their hearts, prayerfully laying the groundwork for the mission ahead. And, that mission continues; Jesus continues to plant these words of comfort and promise in our hearts. In the face of grief and tragedy, Jesus brings calm.

Calm was one of the first words that Mark used in describing Henry. Henry’s faith was not boisterous or showy, except when he was speaking of the 82nd Airborne; otherwise, Henry’s faith was calm and diligent. Henry lived into his deeply-rooted faith in Jesus Christ with a thankful heart, sharing his love of history and his commitment to service through the Church, the armed forces, law enforcement, and civic interests. Henry brought this thankfulness and calming presence to the stress of life for his family, for his friends, and for the strangers along the way. Henry took to his heart these words of Jesus Christ, spoken amidst turmoil, but continuing to provide comfort and peace to us two thousand years later.

It was only toward misaligned religious officials that Jesus used harsh words. For sinners and troubled souls and faithful followers, his words were words of healing and promise. Visiting Israel early last year, in Bethlehem and Jerusalem, we found hustle bustle and crushing crowds, so much so that it takes great discipline to focus on the peace of Jesus Christ even in the holiest sites – the Church of the Nativity and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. But, in more peaceful Galilee, along the calming shores of the sea, my senses were constantly aware of Jesus’ nearness; literally, one can hear and feel his footsteps approaching bringing assurance of his promises fulfilled.

For Henry to be remembered as a calm presence is to be remembered as one who brought the peace of Christ to our fretful and anxious world.

Henry would want us to imagine his peaceful exit as just another 82nd Airborne mission; and he would want us to know that his parachute did not fail to fulfill the promise of Jesus Christ who came to earth for our salvation – Jesus Christ who has provided a soft landing for Henry in his new and glorious dwelling place – Jesus Christ who goes to provide a dwelling place for all of us (we don’t even have to be in the 82nd Airborne to get there).

None of us is lost to God. Jesus said, “If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”

Burial of Jimmy Edge

25
Jul

None is lost

2 Samuel 11:1-15 Psalm 14 Ephesians 3:14-21 John 6:1-21

Our shepherd king David seems to have fallen into ill repute.  His actions of which we read in today’s lesson from 2ndSamuel are akin to those of a sexual predator and an adulterer.  As if this was not bad enough, David concocts a scheme to cover his indiscretions with an act of premeditated murder, ordering Uriah, the husband of Bathsheba and his most faithful and loyal warrior, sent to the frontlines of the heaviest battle where Uriah is to be abandoned “so that he may be struck down and die.”  David essentially calls for the execution of Uriah in a way that his complicity is carefully disguised.  

How can David possible be reconciled with God after such egregious actions?   Will God abandon the great King David?  

With pastoral care as a priority of my call to ministry, I spend a lion’s share of my time exploring faithful living and faithful dying.  Death is part of life, and we should all spend time reflecting on our concerns about our earthly deaths.  Very often in discussions with those facing the reality of their latter days, I encounter concerns over goodness and faithfulness. Often, feelings of doubt are expressed with hesitance.  “I’ve not lived my life as I should have.”  “I’ve done things I should not have done.”  I’m just not sure I’m good enough to go to heaven.”  “I’m not sure I have the faith I need.”

These are very human questions; these are questions we all might have as we ponder the reality of our earthly death.

Of course, our answer – our peace – comes in the reality of our justification by grace through our faith in Jesus Christ.  We don’t earn our way into heaven.  We might even say we don’t earn our way out of heaven.  Jesus has paid the price of our justification.

Our redemption and justification by grace through our faith in Jesus Christ, however, is not something we take lightly.  Yes, God wants only what is best for us.  Like anyone who truly loves us, God wants to please us.  In turn, because we love God and are grateful for God’s grace and mercy, we desire to please God by remaining faithful to his guidance.

There are many ways within the scripture that we confirm the fact of our justification by grace.  We confirm this fact in today’s Gospel lesson.  The feeding of the 5,000 is the only miracle account included by all four Gospel writers.  This account is a stunning confirmation of the grace of Jesus Christ shared and multiplied to immeasurable degrees so that all are fed to the fullest with even more left over once the great crowd is fed to satisfaction.   As described in all four accounts of the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, the left-over portions – the remaining fragments – are gathered by the disciples as Jesus instructs them.  “Gather up the fragments left over,” Jesus says, “so that nothing may be lost.”

David, diverted from his humble place as a child of God by his own sense of power and prestige, distracted from his faithfulness to God by his selfish lust for a beautiful woman, maddened by his obsession to hide his sinfulness, will indeed be punished by his sins for the duration of his earthly life.  And, like all of us, David will stand before God to be confronted with his sinfulness.  But, David will not be lost to God.  David will be punished by his sins, but not for his sins.  God took that punishment upon himself through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

David will not be lost to God, not because David is good, but because God is good.  God declares humankind good at creation, but only God’s goodness is perfect; if we were “good” in the sense we understand goodness, we would not need God – we would be God.  But, we are not God, and like David, we need to be reminded that we are dependent upon God – God who is loving and merciful; and none of us is lost to God.

Commenting to a friend yesterday that I still insist that my children call me when they get home at night, she responded that she never understood that until she was a parent herself.  The ideal of the human family helps us understand the unconditional love of God.  There is nothing our children can do to make us love them any more than we love them now; there is nothing our children can do to make us love them less.  This is the love that God plants within our hearts when we are conceived.  God is love.  God loves us unconditionally.  

As we reflect on our imperfection and fears regarding our earthly death, our reflections are bathed in the unconditional love of God – God who loves us even beyond the immeasurable love of loving earthly parents for their child.  

Our shepherd king David has fallen to a low place in his earthly kingship, but he will not be lost to God.  The feeding of the 5,000; after which the fragments are gathered, assures us that God’s grace is sufficient for all and that none is lost.  

18
Jul

Healing and Peace

2 Samuel 7:1-14a Psalm 89:20-37 Ephesians 2:11-22 Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

On Thursday evening, on westbound 64 in Chesapeake, a car sped past police at a high rate of speed; the police gave chase; the car exited at Greenbrier Parkway.  Continuing at high speed, the car turned onto Crossroads Blvd where, running a red light, it T-boned a Honda carrying David Jones and Jennifer O’Connor.  David died at the scene; Jennifer died in route to the hospital. David was a life-long member of our sister Church of the Epiphany, currently serving on the vestry; Jennifer was the church register.  The young man who hit them has been charged with second-degree murder; family members report that he has suffered from PTSD due to two years in the Navy.

Our dear friends at Epiphany seek healing and peace.

Our world is hungry for healing and peace. 

I’ve shared before a deeply ingrained memory of our trip to Israel last year.  While in Bethlehem one evening, our guests were a Jewish father whose 14-year-old daughter had been the innocent victim of a Palestinian suicide bomber as she walked home from her neighborhood school.  This grieving father was accompanied by a Muslim woman whose young brother, having been a part of a group of teenage boys taunting and throwing rocks at Israeli policemen, was shot and killed by those police. 

This father and sister are crying out for healing and peace. 

Our children do not come into the world hating other children of different skin color, and nationality, and zip code.  They learn that from the adults who are responsible for their upbringing.  More and more of our children are finding it easier to get guns and drugs than to get help with their homework.  Children need strong authority figures and disciplinarians, someone to encourage them to pursue goals; where loving adults fail to provide this discipline, street gangs succeed.  Too few of our children know that they are beloved by God.

Our children are robbing and killing because they are desperate for healing and peace.

We don’t even seem to be able to share Facebook group pages without disintegrating into malicious polarization.

Where is God’s grace made present?  Where is God’s healing and peace?

King David aspired to build a house for God; David lamented to the prophet Nathan that he lived in a house of cedar while God resided still in a tent – temporary housing.  After years of nomadic existence, God had planted the people of Israel in safe lodging in Jerusalem, to be disturbed no more by evildoers and enemies.  In today’s lesson, responding to David’s concern for God’s “temporary housing,” Nathan brings King David the word of the Lord.  “The Lord will make you a house.”  For David’s kingship, this would not be a house of brick and mortar that David foresaw; the house of God would be God’s people with whom God would forever reside.  

Thus, God’s grace would not be confined to a house of stone; God’s grace would be forever and everywhere present in his healing and peace.

With the coming of Jesus Christ, the world began finding healing and peace.  Mark tells us of the return on the apostles from the missions to which Jesus had sent them.  It is significant that Mark refers to them as the apostles.  Returning from their missions as messengers of the healing and peace of Christ, Jesus and the apostles seek rest.  Yet, they find no rest.  Jesus has become known for his healing; wherever he goes, the people seek his healing, their faith so acute that they beg only to touch the mere fringe of his cloak.

The world cries out for healing and peace; we are the apostles sent out by Christ to bring the message of healing and peace.  How else will that message be spread?  One by one, hour by hour, day by day, the message is ours to carry forth.  

The Apostle Paul tells us in his letter to the Ephesians that we “are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.

Members of the household of God, built together spiritually in a dwelling place for God, we are to bring God’s healing and peace; there is no one else.  For the grieving and anguished, for the war-weary masses, for our children who know so little of God’s grace and peace, we are the only hope. 

In the section of the Book of Common Prayer entitled “Ministration to the Sick,” which begins on page 453, there are prayers for healing and the laying on of hands.  These are beautiful power-provoking prayers.  How powerful would it be if each of us took these prayers with us on our journeys this week?  We might not have actual opportunity to lay our hands upon someone needing healing, but as we stand in line at the grocery store, or sit at a traffic light, or observe a weary first responder going about his or her ministry of compassion and healing, what if we were to focus on them, figuratively lay our hands upon them and breathe these words:

I lay my hands upon you in the Name of our Lord and
Savior Jesus Christ, beseeching him to uphold you and fill
you with his grace, that you may know the healing power of
his love. Amen.

 One by one, hour by hour, the mission of healing and peace is ours.

I lay my hands upon you in the Name of our Lord and
Savior Jesus Christ, beseeching him to uphold you and fill
you with his grace, that you may know the healing power of
his love. Amen.

11
Jul

Humility

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 Psalm 24 Ephesians 1:3-14 Mark 6:14-29

If the current daily news filled with perverted political power is not enough for you, our lessons for today should quench your thirst.  

We have followed King David from his time as the humble shepherd boy – the least of the sons of Jesse, to this day of triumph.  The great King David leads the parade as the Ark is returned to Jerusalem.  This is among the most significant days for the people of Israel.  The Ark of God had symbolized God’s presence from their days in the wilderness following their escape from Egypt up until their arrival in the Promised Land.  The ark had been a coveted prize of victory by enemy armies – taken captive as an idol for their pagan worship, and in the end, a great source of distress and hardship.

Finally, under King David, those enemies were defeated; the ark was reclaimed and restored to its rightful sacred purpose.  The presence of the ark would now make Jerusalem the religious center as well as the military and political center.  The Ark of God embodied the presence of God; Jerusalem was the rightful destination.

With great rejoicing, in celebration of the return of the ark, David danced with all his might, bringing up the ark with shouting and the sound of the trumpet.  Yet, Micah despised David in her heart.  Micah was David’s wife – one of many wives, and Micah was the daughter of Saul – the failed king of Israel.  Thus, Micah had cause to be jealous and resentful of her diminished role in David’s life and kingship.  Micah hated David in her heart for his salacious display of braggadocio and power.  Was David’s praise for himself or for God?  How would that self-importance and earthly power come to affect David’s kingship in the years to come?

Centuries later, Herod Antipas would rule a portion of the Kingdom of Israel previously ruled by his father Herod the Great.  Herod the Great had been “appointed” king of the Jews in 40 B.C. by the controlling Roman Senate.  Technically, the Herods were Jewish only because their ancestors had been forced to convert to Judaism.

At the death of Herod the Great, his kingdom was divided among three of his sons as settlement of the heated dispute over their inheritance.  The son Herod Antipas was granted one-fourth of his father’s kingdom, the tetrarchy of Galilee and Perea, but the royal title of king was withheld from Herod Antipas.  Mark’s reference to him as “king” truly could be construed as satirical.  This position of pseudo-king left Herod Antipas resentful, greedy for power, and suspicious of anyone who might threaten his rule.  Two of those geographical subjects who would be perceived as threats by Herod Antipas were Jesus and John the Baptist

Early on, from his capital in Tiberias, Herod Antipas led a shallow existence of greed and self-satisfaction.  Growing weary of his current wife, he became smitten with his niece Herodias who was also the wife of his half-brother Philip.  His marriage to her had drawn the distaste of John the Baptizer who had publicly chastised Herod Antipas for the marriage, which John declared unlawful and immoral within Jewish tradition.  

For this very public act of sedition by John, Herod had imprisoned him.  And Herod’s wife Herodias nurtured a bitter grudge against John for his outspoken condemnation of her marriage to Herod.  Yet, Herodias remained unsuccessful in having John eliminated because, as Mark tells us, Herod feared John, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man.  

But, as we have read just now, Herod unwittingly sets a trap for himself, presenting an opportunity for the elimination of John – an opportunity on which Herodias would pounce.  Her daughter, whom Bible commentators agree is misnamed Herodias in verse 22 – more correctly named Salome, entrances Herod and his large audience with her sensual dance during what some historians define as a drunken orgy.  Herod, blinded by his lust for his stepdaughter and his compulsion to please and impress his crowd of onlookers, very publicly offers her anything she wishes as a gift for her seductive dance.  And, upon conferring with her mother, the gift the girl requests is the head of John the Baptist on a platter.  Mark tells us that Herod Antipas was deeply grieved; doubtless he was consumed with fear, yet, under the eyes of his subjects, he is compelled to send his soldier of the guard to fulfill the request to deliver the platter bearing the head of John the Baptist.

Perverted earthly political power by a weakling pseudo-king brought about the death of John the Baptist – known even to his assassin as a righteous and holy man.  

We know John as the forerunner of Jesus Christ.  At the death of John the Baptist, Jesus’ ministry began in earnest.  In three short years, Jesus, himself, would stand before Herod Antipas, sentenced to death on the Cross. 

Jesus doesn’t ask us to walk about in the wilderness as John did, dressed in animal hair and eating bugs, proclaiming the coming of one greater than each of us.  Most of us do not expect to go silently to our deaths for his sake.  But, Jesus does ask us to walk humbly in the presence of God and to proclaim his message regardless of the opposition we face, not being intimidated by the cry of the crowd.  And, Jesus asks us to remember that the devil dances in the presence of our arrogance, but quakes in the presence of righteousness.

John’s righteousness is epitomized in his humility; his holiness is embodied in his deep awareness that his power comes from God alone.   Conversely, Herod’s immorality is epitomized in his arrogance; his wickedness is embodied in his jealous pursuit of his own superficial royal status over the true kingship of God.

Like King David, we have our struggles with humility; and like King Herod, we too easily fail to uphold that that is righteous and holy.  Only in humility do we rightly acknowledge the true presence and power of God.  As hearers and believers of the truth, our praise is not for ourselves, but for the Lord of hosts, the true King of glory.  

God is present.

Lift up your heads, O gates;
lift them high, O everlasting doors; 
and the King of glory shall come in.