In Weakness and in Strength

2 Corinthians 12:2-10

Amazing grace. How sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost. But now, I’m found. Was blind, but now, I see.

How many times have we sung this song? If I had to guess, I would say hundreds, if not thousands. But when we sing it, do we listen to the words? Do we understand the meaning those words are trying to convey?

Written by John Newton in the 18th century, Amazing Grace appears in more than 1,200 hymnals. By comparison, “Silent Night” appears in 536 hymnals, and the great Charles Wesley hymn, “O for a thousand tongues to sing,” is found in more than 1,500. The difference is that “Amazing Grace” has transcended the hymnal, and the 1971 version by Judy Collins made the top 10 charts. No other hymn can make that claim.

“Amazing Grace” is the song most people turn to to find comfort and strength when they are at their lowest. People of all faiths know at least the first verse, and so it is often sung at ecumenical gatherings. One lasting image from September 11 is the firefighters, police, EMTs, and all the rest joining hands and hearts at ground zero and singing “Amazing Grace” together.

Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.

This morning, we heard a portion of Paul’s letter to his Church in Corinth. The Church is divided. The people are in open rebellion against his leadership. Others have come claiming to be “super-apostles” and teaching against what Paul taught them. They have come to town, boasting of a higher apostolic authority than Paul and accusing Paul of being weak, “untrained in speech,” a slanderer, and an imposter.

Paul has a public relations problem and needs to find a solution. Paul speaks of a “revelation” he has had but cannot find the words to describe it. How can you describe the indescribable?

When Mr. Spock tries to save the Enterprise in the 1982 movie Star Trek: The Wrath of Kahn, he dies doing his duty. He is placed in a capsule and shot onto a planet. In essence, they bury him. However, in the next movie, that planet becomes the site of the Genesis experiment, and the planet and Mr. Spock are regenerated. He is brought back to life and rejoins the crew.

Later in the movie, Doctor McCoy approaches Spock and wishes to engage him in a discussion of the afterlife. After all, he has truly gone where no one had before and returned. Spock tells McCoy that having such a conversation with a common phrase of reference would be impossible. In other words, McCoy would have to die and come back to understand what Spock experienced. Paul is having the same issue. How can Paul speak about what he has seen when no one else can?

Now, I have my issues with Paul, but his humility is not one of those issues. Paul is always hesitant to talk about himself after he tells his audience why they should listen to him. He tells his story not from a position of boasting but rather from a place of grace. Paul has experienced what only a few have: spiritual ecstasy, and he is hesitant to speak about it. His reward is that he is made fun of and called a liar.

Paul tells his Church that he will only boast “in his weakness.” To an American ear, this is hard to hear. We are constantly told that we must be strong. We are the greatest nation on earth. From the time they were little boys, we were told not to show emotion; emotion is weakness, and men must be strong. Any sign of caring for others is weakness or, better yet, “woke.” We must crush our enemies at all costs.

Then along comes Paul, who says, not so fast; it is not our strength that we should celebrate but our weakness. Paul had turned the whole thing on its head! I mean, how strong can a faith be where the leader of that faith willingly dies and the ultimate prize, if there is one, is death?

What is grace?

John Wesley defines grace as God’s undeserving gift, God’s free, underserved favor bestowed upon humanity. During creation, God spoke everything into existence. God separated the light from the darkness, land and water, sea and sky, all with a word. God created every plant and animal with his voice, but when it came to humanity, God paused. God stooped down, gathered the dust of what was just created, and formed humanity. With God’s own hands, humankind was created.

But God did not stop there. God breathed God’s breath, the breath of life, into the nostrils of this new creation. Some believe this to be the soul of humanity and that one is not truly alive until one takes one’s first breath. But either way, God put God’s very breath into humankind. God created humanity with God’s own hands in God’s image. The gift of life is grace.

The United Methodist Book of Discipline defines grace as “the underserved, unmerited, and loving action of God in human existence through the ever-present Holy Spirit.”

Grace pervades all of creation. Grace is God’s presence to create, heal, forgive, reconcile, and transform human hearts, communities, and creation. Wherever God is present, grace is present.

It was grace that brought creation into being. It is grace that bestows upon humanity God’s divine image. Grace redeems us through Jesus Christ and continually transforms the whole of creation. Continually transforms the whole of creation. Continually transforms. Transformation. It is grace, God’s sufficient and redeeming grace, that will transform the world and begin with our own transformation.

Paul speaks of a “thorn in his flesh.” There has been much speculation as to what this thorn is. Is it physical, spiritual, or mental? Paul does not say what it is, but it is enough of a problem that he mentions it, and it transforms him and his ministry. In many ways, this is Paul’s weakness.

Whatever it is, Paul calls it a “messenger of Satan,” and he believes that it has been sent to him to torment him and to keep him humble. Paul says he has prayed three times for God to remove this thorn, but God replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

Through many dangers, toils and snares we have already come. ‘Twas grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home.

I do not hold to the image of a being called Satan. Is there evil in the world? Yes, there is. Are there evil people in the world? Well, that is a little more complex. Everyone is born with a clean slate, a “Tabula rasa,” and we learn everything.

At our core, humanity is good. After each “day” of creation, God stepped back and said, it is good. Humanity was included in that. What corrupts humanity is what we learn. We are not born to hate, to discriminate, to make fun of, and all the rest. All of that comes from fear and lack of understanding. So, no, there are no evil people, but there are evil actions.

The first thing evil does is divide. Evil creates an environment of distrust, which causes derision to take hold. Evil must have an enemy, something to focus on, so evil creates an enemy, usually a scapegoat to use as a way in. It might be a person; it might be an issue, but whatever it is, it will exploit it to the point of division. I might add that the problem does not have to be a big issue; sometimes, the minor issue causes the most significant division.

This is the place Paul has found himself, in the middle of a divided community. But notice that Paul comes in not as a lion but as a gentle shepherd. He does not boast of his strength but rather the opposite. Paul speaks of his weakness, and, reading between the lines a little, Paul takes the blame. Paul is the leader, and ultimately, the leader is the one responsible.

So, what does Paul do to get them back on track? Paul teaches them about humility, not humiliation but humility. Paul reminds them that they are all created in the divine image and that, at our core, we are good. No one is beyond redemption. If they have breath, they are capable of change.

Paul calls them to pray—for each other and for him—but notice how Paul speaks of prayer. Paul prays that God’s will be done. Paul is echoing the words Jesus prayed in the garden the night before his crucifixion. In the end, Jesus submitted his will to God and prayed that God’s will be done. There is power in surrender.

When we surrender our will, when we realize we don’t know what’s best in every situation, we make room for God’s grace to move in and through our lives. For us to be “conformed to the image of God’s son,” we must surrender our will so that God’s purpose for us may be fulfilled.

Surrender is not easy, and surrender is not weakness but strength.

But surrender does not mean we give up; it means the opposite: we work and work hard. We pray, and we get to work. Evil is well established and well organized, but it can be defeated, not on our own but by God. The light will prevail in the darkness.

We can never lose hope. God’s grace gives us hope. So far, we have survived 100% of our worst days, and we are still here. Jesus never promised it would be easy; he said it would be hard, but the promise is that we will never walk through it alone.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years bright shining as the sun. We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun. Then when we first begun.

Amen

When your Alma Mater Closes

On June 25, 2024, it was announced that the Board of Trustees unanimously voted to close Eastern Nazarene College in Quincy, Massachusetts. ENC is one of several colleges sponsored by the Church of the Nazarene and has operated since 1900. I am a 1992 and 1995 graduate of ENC and was a staff member for a few years following my graduation. To say that ENC put me on the path to where I am today would be an understatement.

Returning home after being discharged from the Army, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I found employment and started taking classes at a local community college. I was not the best student in high school, so my shot at Harvard had long since passed. After one semester and a reasonably decent semester at that, I applied and was accepted at ENC.

For the most part, ENC was like every other college but much smaller. I went to class and chapel, ate lunch in the café, studied in the library, and went home. I did not interact much with the community beyond those students I was in class with. The pivotal moment, the moment I can point to that changed my life, happened in January 1992.

As with any degree program, there were certain required classes, such as English, math, history, a bible class, and a class on World Missions. I resisted taking this class for as long as I could. Looking back, I believe it was God’s providence that I did wait as long as I did.

The class I needed was being offered in January. These were intensive classes that met each day for several hours. Just as I was reluctant when I stepped on campus for the first time, I entered the class with reluctance.

A Nazarene missionary home on leave taught the class on leave from the Azores. I had never met a missionary before, save the priests and nuns who used to come to the parish looking for money. The teacher, Margaret Scott, is a kind, compassionate, Spirit-filled woman who became like a second mother to me—my spiritual mother.

The class focused on missionaries in the Church of the Nazarene and their work around the world. But a more minor focus was a group of students who had traveled to Romania to work in an orphanage. I am not going to spend much time writing about their work, just to say that it spoke to me, and I needed what we later called “the Romanian Experience.”

Long after I left campus, ENC adopted the phrase “ENC makes a DIfferENCe.” It is a little play on words, but it is true. It is not the school or the campus that makes the difference; it is her students and her faculty that make the difference. One of my ENC colleagues posted about his time at ENC on Facebook, and I commented that the spirit of ENC will live on in its alums and the work that continues.

ENC set me on a path of self-discovery. I found a deep sense of spirituality in the Orthodoxy of the Romanian people and was ordained a priest in the Romanian Orthodox Church in 2004. My time in Orthodoxy brought me deeper into a progressive/liberal theological position that led me out of Orthodoxy and toward a more inclusive church. It’s amusing that it all started in a church-sponsored school that has never been accused of being progressive.

I know that not everyone has warm and fuzzy feelings about ENC and the direction she has taken in the last few years. Many longtime faculty members had lost positions, and the school doubled down on the Churches’ conservative theology. But my time there was transformative, and I will always remember my days on that campus near blue Quincy Bay.

What must I do?

Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?” “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.” “Which ones?” he inquired. Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’ “All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?” Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth. Matthew 19:16-22

The Commandments have been in the news a lot lately. The passage from Matthew’s Gospel, as if by chance, was the scripture reading during Monday’s morning prayer, so it seemed very fitting to comment.

Jesus has just finished being challenged by the Pharisees concerning divorce. This is followed by Jesus blessing a group of children and his line about how we are to have the faith of little children, faith, as James puts it in his writings, a faith that is pure and undefiled.

Then, a man comes to Jesus and asks him what good deed he needs to do to obtain eternal life. Jesus replies that if the man wishes to be good, he must follow the Commandments. There is an assumption that the man is an observant Jew, so he certainly would know the Commandments.

The man inquired more about which ones he should follow. Jesus replies, “You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.'”

You might notice that a couple are missing. Jesus leaves out the Commandments concerning our relationship with God. No idols, keep the sabbath, not using the Lord’s name in vain, and not having any other gods. The Commandments Jesus quotes to the young man are the Commandments that regulate how humanity is to interact with each other.

However, pay close attention to the last part of what Jesus said to the man. Jesus tells him to obey the Commandments and then adds, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

The Commandments appear twice in Scripture, Exodus 20:1–17 and Deuteronomy 5:4–21, neither of which will appear on the walls of Louisiana classrooms since the legislature wrote their version. But I digress. Jesus added a commandment that does not appear in either version, “love your neighbor as yourself.” That love thing.

The man replies that he has done all of this but feels that he still lacks something and asks Jesus what that is. Jesus’ reply shocked the man: “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

Wait, following the Commandments is not perfection?  Will keeping the rules not get my ticket punched to get into heaven? Jesus, how can this be?

Jesus tells the man to sell all he has and give the money to the poor. It was not enough to sell all he had; he had to give the sale proceeds to support those less fortunate.

At the end of the passage, it is revealed that the man was rich and that after hearing Jesus’ words, “he went away sad.” The man’s possessions meant more to him than obtaining the very thing he sought: perfection.

The entirety of Jesus’ ministry has focused on human interactions and how we care for one another. For Jesus, perfection comes not only in keeping all of the rules but also in loving and caring for each other. For this young man, the thing that prevented him from truly loving others was his wealth. The question for each of us is, what keeps us from truly loving others?

Search Me

1 Samuel 3:1-10, Psalm 139

In 2018, the streaming service Netflix released a movie about a preacher his community had ostracized for the radical message of inclusiveness he began to preach. Carlton Pearson, the ministry featured in the film, claimed he heard God’s voice, and that voice gave him new insight into Scripture that was so radical for those listening that they abandoned him.

Pearson was ordained in the Church of God in Christ, an evangelical/Pentecostal denomination. He was educated at Oral Roberts University and mentored by Roberts himself. After graduating from university, Pearson would become an associate evangelist in the Oral Roberts Evangelistic Association.

1981, Pearson did what many thought was impossible: he started a church in Oklahoma where black and white folx worshipped together. This was revolutionary. He became so popular that his weekly worship services were broadcast on television. In the pre-pandemic world, a preacher being on TV was rare; now, everyone is a TV evangelist. In 1996, Pearson was consecrated as a bishop and continued to rise.

Pearson’s Church has a well-defined doctrine that states non-Christians are dammed to hell for all eternity. Unless you know a particular version of Jesus, are saved by that Jesus, and are washed in the blood of that Jesus, you are going to hell. So, it’s not only non-Christians but non-specific types of Christians going to hell.

Pearson made an excellent living preaching the Gospel of Exclusion; his Church rose to over 1,000 in attendance each Sunday. But soon, that was all going to change.

I don’t often preach and teach from the Hebrew Scriptures, but I make an exception on rare occasions like today. The lectionary gives us the call story of the young Samuel. Samuel is asleep and hears a voice he believes belongs to his master, Eli. Three times, Samuel rises from his slumber and rushes to see what Eli wants, only to be told Eli had not called him.

The third time Samuel comes in and wakes Eli, Eli figures out what is happening. God is calling Samuel, and Samuel needs to listen and discern what God is asking him to do. The people are in disarray and need someone to lead them and straighten out what has gone wrong. They have stopped listening to God and have been relying on themselves. They have been getting lousy intelligence from preachers who seem well-meaning but have been convicted 34 times for doing it incorrectly. This is not the end of these preachers; there are more than 80 more charges against them, but they continue their rise to power because the people refuse to see the truth. Hmmmm, this story sounds all too familiar.

I have mentioned this before: I am a theologian in the reformed tradition. That means that I believe that the Church needed to be reformed and continues to need to be reformed, but we also have been given a brain and the ability to discern. Freedom of thought was a significant point of the reformation, allowing the people to read, understand, and discern Scripture for themselves, with guidance from those trained for that purpose. No longer were we simply to follow for fear of going to hell.

However, the prophets and the mystics were caught up in the cleaning and reform. The Church threw out a very rich portion of her past and has been unable to recapture it. Today, when one speaks of hearing God’s voice, one is treated with skepticism, especially if it is a radical departure from the norm.

Samuel was not sure what he heard. Carlton Pearson was not sure what he heard. But they both knew they heard something and needed to discern where that voice was coming from. Just a bit of caution: God does not call one to maintain the status quo; the opposite is often true. God is calling us to something new, different, and a little scary.

One night, Pearson was watching a television news story about the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. He felt a sense of compassion for the people caught up in what was going on to such an extent that he felt a tug or a pull on his heart in a different theological direction. Pearson began to doubt the very idea of hell as a construct of God but rather a construct of humanity. He discerned that hell was not some supernatural creation but rather a creation of humanity.

Pearson’s theology, like that of most Evangelicals, is rooted in the theology of John Calvin, who says humanity is so depraved that it needed a scapegoat to satisfy God, through the blood sacrifice of his only Son, to change its ways. In other words, humanity was born in sin and has a propensity towards sin. Put this in contrast to Wesley, who believed that humankind was basically good but had lost its way, and Jesus came to show us how to get back on track through love and God’s grace.

Changing one’s long-held beliefs about anything, whether theological or political, is difficult. We need solid ground to stand on, and when that solid ground begins to shift, it shakes us to our very core.

But we do not discern on our own; Samuel needed Eli, and Pearson needed some close associates to help him.  Samuel found an ally in Eli, but Pearson had difficulty finding someone who would listen to him. The call must be tested and tried to make sure it is God and not us.

In my almost 20 years in ministry, I have encountered several people who feel they have been called to ordained ministry. God called me, and I must listen to that call. My usual response is that God calls, but the Church tests and confirms that call. We do not and should not ordain someone just because they feel God has called them. This testing, this discernment, does take and should take years because we do not want to make the wrong decision. Does that still happen, yes, it does, but we try to see that it does not.

Pearson developed the Gospel of Inclusion and stated that Jesus came to save the whole world, not just the elect. That through God’s love, mercy, and grace, all will be redeemed, and it is our job to bring God’s kingdom here to earth and not wait for God’s kingdom on some fluffy cloud somewhere. Pearson believed that Jesus came to all and for all, not just those who believed in him. This radical departure was too much for some and led Pearson to be branded a heretic by his Church and cast into the outer darkness. I know the feeling.

In a letter from Paris in 1787 to Mr. Willilam Smith, private secretary to John Adams, Thomas Jefferson wrote, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots & tyrants.” What Jefferson was saying, I believe, is that we must never become complacent; we must always be willing to look at how things can be changed for the better. Of course, Jefferson was writing about the new Constitution but the same is true in the Church.

There is an idea that the Church undergoes what has been called a 500-year rummage sale. This is the process whereby the Church looks in all the nooks and crannies to find things to give the heave-ho or to change. But change should not happen simply for change sake but should only come after periods of discernment and testing to see if the proposed change is God’s will or not. I am not talking about what color to paint the Church’s front doors, but rather theological understanding.

The point of all of this is simple: God is continuously speaking to and through the Church. The Church needs to reclaim its prophetic voice and be that voice crying in the wilderness, not to condemn but to show just how much God loves the world. The Church needs to be the voice that helps people and does not cause harm. Author and Theologian Sarah Bessy said, “People should never be the collateral damage of your theology.”

God’s voice needs to be heard, especially in our crazy, mixed-up world that we are living in now. We are bombarded with conflicting messages every day, and we need to hone our skills of discernment. Is what we hear helping or hurting? Does what we hear promote love or hate? Is what we hear from God or ourselves.

God is still speaking to us, and God is still speaking to the Church. The question is, are we listening?

Amen.

All Consuming Presence

John 3:1-17

On the Church calendar, today is set aside to commemorate the Holy Trinity. This uniquely Christian doctrine defines the relationship between God, the creator, Jesus, the redeemer, and the Holy Spirit, the sustainer. There is one argument that states belief in the Trinity is what makes one a Christian.

I agree with this but add that it is not what we believe that makes us something but whether we live by the words we believe. One can believe all the right things and say all the right words, but one’s actions will deny everything one says and believes. So, being a Christian requires more than just the correct belief.

There is no direct biblical evidence for the belief in the Trinity, but there are shadows of the Trinity in all parts of Scripture. Written into the creation story is the image of the Trinity, “let us make them in our image.” During the creation event, the Spirit hovers over the water and controls the chaos that can be found there.

Later in Scripture is the story of three guests who come to visit Abraham. This story is known as the “Hospitality of Abraham,” and the three guests represent the three persons of the Trinity. There is another meaning to this story: we are to treat all guests as special, as we never know if we are hosting angels.

Then we turn to John’s Gospel and the most poignant example of Trinitarian theology. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” In the written text, the Word is capitalized to indicate a proper name. The Word of God is not Scripture; the Word of God is Jesus. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Jesus speaks of the relationship of the three Divine Persons but in a veiled way. The study of theology would have been much simpler if Jesus just said what he meant, but that is not the case. Jesus speaks of this relationship between himself and God and, towards the end of his ministry on earth, mentions that the “advocate” will soon come to be with them. He mentions the Holy Spirit as the Advocate, which we celebrated last week at Pentecost.

As with all doctrines, the doctrine of the Holy Trinity took years to define, redefine, and refine. I will also add that this is one of the most incomprehensible doctrines of the Church. However, it is still an important doctrine, for we learn a bit about human relationships by understanding the relationship between the three persons.

So, what is the doctrine of the Holy Trinity? Sit back, relax, close your eyes, and prepare to be dazzled by my theological brilliance.

“The Christian doctrine of the Trinity is the central doctrine concerning the nature of God, which defines one God existing in three coequal, coeternal, consubstantial divine persons: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Holy Spirit, three distinct persons (hypostases) sharing one essence/substance/nature (homoousion). As the Fourth Lateran Council declared, it is the Father who begets, the Son who is begotten, and the Holy Spirit who proceeds.”

Did you get that?

I won’t spend much time trying to unpack all that since I do not truly understand it. It is also an attempt to explain the unexplainable. I am not sure we are supposed to understand God, and trying to put human emotions and words on God only limits a limitless being.

Like most things theological, we come to this definition in reverse. The question began if Jesus was divine, and therefore God, how could God be killed on the Cross? So, theologians got together and backed into this definition. The critical thing to remember is that there are not three gods, only one. Think of it in the same way marriage changes a couple. Joined together, they are one, but they do not cease to be separate people.

Let me emphasize something I said earlier: it is not belief in doctrine that makes us Christian. How we live and what we are taught makes us a Christian. I believe that doctrine is vital as it gives us a basis for our beliefs. The creeds and other statements have been hammered out over time and are the basic beliefs, not the totality. Do you have to understand it all? No. Do you have to believe it all? No.

I am more of a Red Letter Christian than a doctrinal Christian. If you recall older versions of Scripture, the words of Jesus were printed in Red. Red Letter Christians focus more on what Jesus actually said rather than what others say he says. Go right to the source rather than secondary writings.

With all of that said, let’s look at John’s Gospel, which we heard this morning.

Nicodemus comes to see Jesus. Nicodemus is a Pharisee, a leader of the people who must be very careful in coming to see Jesus. At this point, Jesus is starting to get the leaders’ attention. This meeting takes place just after Jesus flipped the tables in the Temple, an event designed to get the attention of the authorities.

Nicodemus comes at night. He is lurking in the shadows so as not to be seen by anyone. He acknowledges that Jesus is what he says he is: God’s son. This could not have been easy for him. Nicodemus wants to learn more and understand what Jesus is all about. But he is confused by what Jesus is telling or attempting to tell him. He ends up leaving more confused than when he arrived. He must have had some understanding or at least enough that piqued his curiosity. We see Nicodemus again after Jesus’ crucifixion. Nicodemus brings the spices that are necessary for the burial rite to take place. Not only is this a significant expense for him, but he is also doing it very publicly, which shows that he believes that Jesus is what he says he is.

But the end of this passage is the most important to grasp.

We hear the famous line, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” As important as I believe this verse to be, it is the next one that sets the pace.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Let’s sit with this for a moment. God did not send Jesus to condemn. Out of love, God sent Jesus not to condemn Creation but to point the way towards salvation. God could have destroyed all of Creation but chose a different path, the path of love. If Jesus did not come to condemn the world, why do we humans feel it is our Job?

I will also point out that the 3:16 line says, “But may have eternal life.” Some translations say, “Shall have eternal life.” I point this out to show that Jesus did not come to force anyone to do anything but instead pointed the way and left the rest to us. The choice is ours.

Earlier, I mentioned that Trinity is an example of how we relate to one another. The Trinity is an excellent example of what Methodists call contextualism, the idea that we are connected.

Although each of the three persons is separate, they share the same essence and mission, if you will. What joins them together and what keeps them together is love. Augustine developed this idea of the Trinity as love in the 5th century, and it is the backbone of the idea that we are to relate to one another through love.

God loved Creation so much that Jesus came, through love, to show us a different way. Because God did not want to abandon Creation after Jesus’ ascension, God sent the Spirit, who continues the work of Jesus, helps point the way, and gives us the strength to live in love as Jesus taught.

The Trinity is not about hypostasis, homousion, or all the significant theological terms. The Trinity is about love, relationships, mission, and how we are all connected to each other and all of Creation. Salvation is not an individual act, but rather, it is a corporate act. Salvation does not end when we “give our life to Christ, “find Jesus,” or “get washed in the blood,” whatever any of that means. Salvation begins and ends with how we treat and relate to one another. We are to love one another. And care for each other and Creation. The Trinity exists to show us this way, this way of relationship. God needed the other for Creation to happen. Jesus needed the others to complete his mission. The Holy Spirit continues to need the energy of others to walk with us and guide us as we live and love others.

The verse says, “God loved the world.” It does not say, “God loved individuals,” it does not even say God loved humanity, and it certainly does not say that God loved the United States of America. The verse says God loves the world, all of it.

Our “salvation,” whatever that means, is directly tied to the salvation of others because it is dependent upon how we treat the other. Believe in the doctrine of the Trinity or don’t believe in the doctrine of the Trinity; that’s not important. Living out the relational aspect of the Trinity is what’s important.

Jesus said, “love God love neighbor. On these two hang all the law and the prophets.” This was not a suggestion; it was a command.

So, go forth and love. Love God. Love all of humanity. And love all of Creation.

Amen.

Not all Catholics are Roman

In the summer of 2023, I was elected bishop by the Holy Synod of the Ancient Apostolic Church of Alexandria (AACA). My consecration was to have taken place in October of 2023, but due to my accident, surgery, and subsequent complications, it has been postponed until May of 2024.

Bishops are teachers of the faith, and vow to “guard the faith, unity, and discipline of the Church.” This can sometimes be challenging in this ever-changing world we live in; we need guideposts along the way. Guarding “the faith” does not mean sticking to things that do not work or language one can no longer understand. God is continuing to reveal God’s self to humanity, and as such, we need to be willing to reinterpret what we thought we understood, considering our age.

The AACA is a micro-denomination consisting of very few clergy and an even lesser number of lay people. The AACA is an inheritor of the Old Catholic and Liberal Catholic traditions, which I will explore further in this essay and the following.

Having a solid foundation is essential in any discussion, especially a theological discussion, so to that end, a common understanding of terms is essential.

In his book, “A Catechism for the Liberal Catholic Church,” Bishop Wynn Wagner defines the term “liberal” not in its most common form, political, but from a theological understanding. “The word ‘Liberal’ comes from the Latin word for ‘free.’ We strive to be free and generous in our thinking and our actions. We try to let you be as free as you are, so we try to avoid bigotry and divisive dogma.”

With this definition in mind, the AACA has set for the following vision:

“The vision of the Ancient Apostolic Church of Alexandria is to honor the past while embracing the present. We seek to respectfully engage creedal theology while dialoging deeply the esoteric and mystical themes that have been always present in the church, but which have at times been suppressed and ignored. Ours is a vision of contemplation and service. We walk a pilgrim path seeking ever to enjoin fellow spiritual sojourners in the way of wisdom and Transfiguration.”

The other problematic word in a discussion such as this is the word “catholic.” The title of this essay is “Not all Catholics are Roman.” When one uses the term “catholic,” one immediately thinks of Rome, and that is all well and good, but the definition is much broader than that.

Again, turning to bishop Wagner, “The word ‘catholic’ is often translated as ‘universal’ and that is a fairly good definition. It actually comes from the Greek word that means ‘whole.’” Bishop Wagner continues, “If you are universal, you can be many things at the same time… The word universal is a way of saying something is a generic fit for everything. If something is whole, it is a healthy fit, a fundamental fit. A universal church can divide believers from non-believers, while a whole church sees God’s hand at work everywhere.”

Although I will explore the history of the Liberal Catholic Church in another essay, the LCC was founded in 1916 by Bishop James Ingall Wedgwood and further built upon by Bishop Charles Webster Leadbeater. The LCC combines the sacramental practice of the “catholic church” with freedom of belief. In essence, the LCC is catholic but reformed. The AACA seeks to deconstruct the Liberal Catholic Church tradition holding three qualities in tension: tradition, innovation, and culture.

Quoting from the website of the AACA

“The three qualities we hold in tension guide us in our continued reconstruction of the Liberal Catholic Church tradition in that we value and honor the rich theological heritage of sacramental Christianity seen in the Roman Catholic Church, the Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Churches, and within Anglicanism, and with the Liberal Catholic Church tradition evolved in the past hundred plus years. We are not stuck in tradition, holding onto it like a golden calf; instead, we endeavor to seek liturgical and theological innovation that honors the past, respects the present, while looking reverently to the future.”

Wagner, W. (2008). A Catechism of the Liberal Catholic Church (3rd ed.). CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform.

Website of the Ancient Apostolic Church of Alexandria: aacofa.org

Good Friday: Hail, King of the Jews

Today He who hung the earth upon the waters is hung on the tree,
The King of the angels is decked with a crown of thorns.
He who wraps the heavens in clouds is wrapped in the purple of mockery.
He who freed Adam in the Jordan is slapped on the face.
The Bridegroom of the Church is affixed to the Cross with nails.
The Son of the virgin is pierced by a spear.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
Show us also Thy glorious resurrection.”

These are the words from the 15th antiphon of the service of Matins of Good Friday and remind us of what has happened. The creator of all that we see has been murdered by the very people who should have been rejoicing at his coming. So filled with greed and hatred and fearful of a loss of power, they became traitors and killed the very God worship because they were too blind to him.

I think we underestimate what has taken place. We focus so much on the dying for our sins business that we miss the beauty of the whole thing. We get so caught up in ourselves and what was done for us that we overlook what was done and by whom.

It hit me last night. I was alone in church tidying up a bit when I started thinking about the foot-washing portion of last night’s service. The Maundy Thursday service is my favorite of all the Holy Week services. So much is happening, and the symbolism is vibrant if you are looking for it.

We have the scene in the Upper Room with Jesus and his friends. As an act of humility and a lesson on how we are to serve one another, Jesus kneels and washes their feet. Washing a person’s feet is usually the job of the lowest member of the household; it is not a pleasant task, but it must be done. The roads of 1st century Palestine were dirty and dusty, so one’s feet would be a mess when entering a house. In smaller homes, a basin with water would be stationed near the door; in larger houses, an attendant would wash your feet.

But in this scene, God the creator, in the person of Jesus the Son, kneels before creation itself and washes its feet. The King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the creator and sustainer of the universe, has taken on the role of a servant, lower than a servant, as an example of how we are to be of service. It gives me chills to even think about it.

This is why the bloody sacrifice theology does not make sense to me. A God willing to go to such an extent to show humanity a better way is not the God that desires a blood sacrifice for some debt that that same humanity owes back to God. It simply makes no sense.

I have no idea why Jesus had to die, but he did.

But at this moment, let us focus on this cross in the middle of the sanctuary. The cross is a symbol. For us, it is a symbol of hope and love. But for folx in the 1st century, the cross symbolized oppression and death. But the wood that fashioned the cross did not start this way.

There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus learned the carpenter’s trade at the knee of his stepfather, Joseph. It would have been unusual for a son not to learn the father’s trade. I have no idea, nor does tradition tell us what Joseph made. Did he build chairs, tables, or houses? Did he fix broken stuff? We don’t know anything other than that he was a carpenter and worked with his hands.

Wood is part of creation that begins its life as a tiny seed that, if conditions are right, will grow thousands of times its size and can be used for many purposes. Trees provide oxygen, shade, and, sometimes, food. When cut down, that same tree will keep us warm and help us cook our food. We can build useful things with wood, like tables and chairs, and altars for sacrifice and celebration.

The Romans used wood to oppress the conquered people. The wood of the cross became a symbol of fear and death and an end rather than a beginning. The Romans undoubtedly felt wood was useful, but little did they know just how useful it would be.

“Today He who hung the earth upon the waters is hung on the tree.”

Many of the faithful do not like to meditate on the events of God Friday; they prefer the happy resurrected Jesus rather than the bloody Jesus of this day. But we cannot have Easter if we do not have Good Friday. We cannot have life, everlasting life if we do not first have death.

I turn again to Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury.

“Good Friday invites us into a place of utter desolation. It reminds us of everything that is not good in the world: gross injustice, abuses of power, scapegoating of the vulnerable and those who are different, betrayal, abandonment, and the horrendous violence that human beings always seem willing to inflict upon one another. All that is ugly, shameful, and sinful about humanity is brought into focus on Good Friday, as Jesus is nailed upon a cross.

And yet, it is Good, not because of what takes place but because, within the worst of circumstances, Jesus demonstrates God’s self-giving for a broken world with profound and ultimate goodness. Jesus demonstrates the cost of goodness in the world—through his self-sacrifice to pay the price of all sin—and does not shrink from it, despite the tears and fears of Gethsemane.”

The Archbishop speaks of Jesus’ payment of the “price of all sin.” Notice he did not say in payment of a debt due to sin. Yes, Jesus was murdered because of sin. Jesus was murdered because of the very ugliness of humanity, that very humanity that God loves so much. Jesus was murdered because he spoke of love, acceptance, and service to all and for all.

The religious leaders wanted Jesus put to death because he was calling them out for the shenanigans. They were so drunk with power that they could not see another way, so they convinced the Romans to do their dirty work for them, and the Romans, who could have cared less, obliged them.

But that wood of death, oppression, and fear turned into the wood that brought new life and hope in a world gone crazy. There was nothing special about the wood chosen; it was just ordinary wood. But God used ordinary things for extraordinary purposes.

Hanging on that wood, Jesus showed just how much love he had for humanity. Below him were those who had just nailed him there. They were mocking him and casting lots for his clothes. Looking down through blood and sweat, Jesus forgave those who had just killed him. It might not have meant anything to those gathered there at that time, but for us, it shows the extent of his love, God’s love for all of humanity.

“Today He who hung the earth upon the waters is hung on the tree,
The King of the angels is decked with a crown of thorns.
He who wraps the heavens in clouds is wrapped in the purple of mockery.
He who freed Adam in the Jordan is slapped on the face.
The Bridegroom of the Church is affixed to the Cross with nails.
The Son of the virgin is pierced by a spear.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
Show us also Thy glorious resurrection.”

Maundy Thursday: By this everyone will know

John 13:1-17

It should come as no surprise that I believe the central message of the Gospel, the good news of the Gospel, is love. God loves the world so much that the events of the next three days were allowed to unfold. God loved creation to such an extent that God was willing to come and be part of it and show us a new way to live, to love, and to serve.

The name Maundy comes from the Latin mandatum and refers to the last line of the Gospel passage we read this evening. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” A new commandment, not a new suggestion, a commandment, a mandate, a mandatum.

Tonight, we commemorate the institution of the Sacrament of the very body and blood of Jesus. Through the act, Christ gave himself and continues to give himself to the Church and the world. This was a gift of sacrificial giving and is the only thing that can be given. The selfless outpouring for others is the essence of love—no greater love than to lay down one’s life for others.

But let us back up a bit in the story.

Jesus is gathered with his friends for their last Passover together. They are together, in borrowed space, unsure of what is coming. They are all there is a hopeful expectation that this is the night that the plans are announced. Indeed, plans have been announced that will revolutionize how we interact. But these are not the plans they were expecting.

The revolution was not physical but spiritual. They will all know this…

Several times during the evening, Jesus refers to this: do this, remember this, know this. What is this?

When the supper was ended, Jesus took bread, “and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.'” We heard these words of Paul in his letter to the Church in Corinth. These are called the “Words of Institution” and are said each time we celebrate the Eucharist.

Jesus takes the bread and the cup and offers them to those seated with him, offering himself to the world through this. This is sacrificial love in action. But it goes deeper than that. This is not some mere symbol; in a spiritual way, Jesus comes to us through this Sacrament.

There is also a reconciling element to communion. It has become the fashion to use the Sacrament as a weapon to divide God’s people further. Some places of worship restrict who can come to the table for many reasons, none of which I believe are valid.

At that first celebration of communion, all of Jesus’ Apostles were present, all of them. Except for John, all those sitting around that table would abandon Jesus in his hour of need. They would think of themselves and their safety rather than be with their friend and teacher in his final hours. Peter was there, the one who would three times deny that he knew Jesus. And Judas, the one who betrayed him for 30 pieces of silver was there and was given the bread and cup of reconciliation and love.

It is important to remember that although Jesus knew what would happen and what those around that table would do, he still provided the bread of life and the cup of salvation. He reconciled them, forgave them, and provided the grace of the Sacrament. How can we do any less?

Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, had this to say, specifically about foot-washing but along the same lines as the reconciling element of communion.

“Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. Every disciple. Jesus also predicts his death and the betrayal of Judas. Yet he washes Judas’ feet. Jesus knew what Judas would do, but still, he breaks bread with him. Jesus extends love and the possibility of change and redemption all the way to the end. He never treats Judas as ‘the enemy’, as worthless, as someone whose dignity and humanity can just be erased or disregarded. Even in betrayal and pain, Jesus attends to the humanity of the one who hurts him.”

Love, forgiveness, and service will be the themes for the coming days. Jesus shows us through his actions how and why we are to love and serve all and work to bring reconciliation wherever we can. This is the Gospel in action and is an imperative.

We show love by our actions, and one of those actions is not setting up artificial obstructions to God’s grace. God made it rather simple; we have made it difficult. It is a very weak God that needs humanity to defend it. Why would we spend so much time and energy building higher walls when God wants us to build larger tables.

If we truly love our neighbor, then it is our responsibility to work to dismantle all those things that separate all of those policies that keep people out when we should be letting them in. God is not the God for just a few, but rather God, my God anyway, is the God that loves all equally and without hesitation.

By this, everyone will know.

By this love, by this outpouring of love, by this sacrificial love that Jesus taught us and that we are commanded to show to others is how they, the world, will know that we are his followers.

Amen

Palm Sunday: Blessed is the one

Mark 11:1-11

Today is a day of contrasts in the story leading up to the coming week’s events. We begin the story with everyone shouting Hosanna to the Son of David. Jesus is triumphantly entering the Holy City to the acclamation of the people, but in a few short days, shouts of joy and praise will be turned to the bloodthirsty cries of crucify him.

Before the liturgical reform in the 1960s, Passion and Palm Sunday were two separate days, but now, we conflate and commemorate them together. In one single service, we move from joy to sadness.

As an interesting aside, tomorrow, March 25th, is the day when the Annunciation is commemorated. This is traditionally celebrated as the day the angel visited Mary and told her that she was to have a baby and that his name would be Jesus. This year, just as we begin the slow walk to the cross, we have a glimpse of the Manger. The two stories come together and pass by one another. Such is the way of all things; as we commemorate a death, life is just around the corner. Another reminder that the death of Jesus was not the end of the story; it was just the beginning.

In previous years, we began our service outside, holding palm branches. As we did this morning, we would bless the palm and then hear the Gospel that was just read. We would then process into the church, reenacting that procession in Jerusalem. Toward the end of the service, we would hear another Gospel read, this time the Passion Gospel, the Gospel of Jesus’s crucifixion. We hear the same Gospel on Good Friday.

This year, however, my focus is going in a different direction.

Holy Week is a special time for me. It is the time of year when I become hyper-aware of my sense of spirituality, and it gives me a laser focus for my reflection and meditation. I usually choose one book to read this week, but this year, I did not pick a book. Amid home renovations and moving, Holy Week snuck up on me. We are rather lucky we have Palms this morning.

I have a focus, something I have never really paid much attention to in the past.

It’s easy to focus on spiritual things this time of year, and the Gospel basically preaches itself. However, we can become complacent with the story. How many times have we heard this story? We all know how it’s going to end, and there really is not much spin I can put on it.

A few weeks ago, during my preparation time, I read the various stories we would hear in the coming days. They are all familiar stories we have listened to hundreds of times. I was flipping through some commentaries and notes I had taken previously when a thought sprouted in my mind. During this Holy Week, I will focus on those people in the shadows of the story, the ones we don’t hear much about.

The obvious players in this drama are Jesus, the 12, the High Priest, Herod, Pilate, and so on. But what of the others?

Tomorrow’s Gospel takes us to Bethany, the home of Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. On Tuesday, we hear another familiar story. I say it is familiar because we just heard it a few weeks ago when the Greeks came to see Jesus. Wednesday takes us to the Last Supper and those who are just off stage waiting at the table. And so on through the week.

Today, we have an interesting person, the colt’s owner, who Jesus will use to ride into Jerusalem.

We know nothing of this man and never hear from him again. We actually never meet the man himself, only his colt. He lives just outside of Jerusalem, on the main road, so there are always people traveling by. I wonder if the man knew what part he was about to play in the story.

So, Jesus sends two of his Apostles—we don’t know which two as they are not named—into the city to get this colt. Mark is not very specific in his description, but a colt can either be a horse or a donkey. Either way, it is a young beast, under four years of age, that has never been ridden.

He tells them to go and get it, and if anyone questions you, tell them, “The Lord needs it.” Scripture tells us that some bystanders questioned them as they were untying the colt. They knew who this colt belonged to and were concerned that it was being stolen. The Apostles did as they were instructed, and they were off.

I have questions. Not questions of great theological importance to which the answers will change the way I think about the events about to unfold but, questions. Did the bystanders know the Apostles that were sent? Had they heard of Jesus before? Did they follow them and join in the singing? Were these same “bystanders” “bystanders” later in the week as part of the throng calling for Jesus’ crucifixion?

Again, none of the answers will change how I think about events; I like to let my mind wander a bit.

But whatever happened to them, they had a role to play in the story, as did the owner of the colt, whom we had never met.

Tradition tells us that Jesus’ earthly ministry lasted only for three years. He never traveled more than 20 miles in any one direction from his home in Nazareth. Along this path, he encountered many people, most of whom we hear about in the Gospels. We are about those Jesus came in direct contact with and those he healed with a touch, a word, or a prayer. We have no idea how many people were affected by Jesus in those three years.

Somewhere in the crowds of people was someone who was struggling with something that only they knew about. Maybe, just maybe they heard a word or saw something that changed their perspective on things. Maybe, just maybe they were sick and just being able to see Jesus changed their life. We never truly know the impact of the words we say or the deeds we do and the ripple effect that takes place.

If we look at those in the background, they all have one thing in common: They served, and by their service, other things were able to happen. In today’s story, the man provided a colt, a simple beast of burden that enabled Jesus to ride into Jerusalem. If it were not for that man and his sacrificial act, the story might have been different or not have happened at all.

The point is that we all serve in one way or another. Some prepare, getting things ready so other things can happen. There are those who pray to give strength to others. Some give their time, talent, and treasure to make the rest possible.

A few months ago, Nicky and I took Oonagh to see a stage production of Cinderella at the Company Theater. Oonagh loves the story and music and enjoyed the play. It was a great production. Most of the attention is given to those out front, the ones who sing and perform. But none of what they do would be possible if it were not for the ones in the black who move stuff and set stuff up. They are the ones whose names scroll by quickly as we exit the theater, but their job is vital to the performance.

We all have a role to play in the story; some will be out front, and others, most of us will be in the shadows, diligently doing what we always do to make sure things happen when they are supposed to happen.

The world changed because the man allowed the Apostles to take the colt.

Let us strive to be like those in the shadows and keep doing what we are doing.

Amen

Loving the Light

John 3:14-21

Several years ago, I helped to chaperone a ski trip for the youth group at one of the Churches I was serving. I am not a skier, nor do I really like anything about being out in the snow and the cold, but it’s part of the job, so I went.

We stayed in this large lodge with a central gathering area where we spent most of the time when we were not out on the slopes. This is where I made camp. It was a big room with a lovely fireplace, and for the most part, it was quiet as everyone else was out.

This was the room where we had our meals. More often than not, they were pick-up meals, you know, you grab something on the way by. But the dinner meal was special. A large table was in the middle of the room, and everyone gathered round. There was enough room for everyone, and no one was left out.

The conversation around the table was centered around the activities of the day. How this one skied this slope and that one fell a few times. However, towards the end of the meal, someone would ask me a religious question. They had a tradition of “Stump the Minister,” where they would ask questions to stump me. I have mastered the skill of not answering the question being asked by answering another question but making them think I responded to their question.

The trip was over a long weekend, and on Sunday night, we held a simple service, and I preached something, I cannot remember what. But whatever it was, it sparked a conversation between and another person that lasted long into the small hours of the night. Like that sermon, I cannot remember what we talked about, but we moved from one topic to another, sometimes religious and sometimes political. Deep questions that usually are only asked in certain situations.

Today’s Gospel from John starts in the middle of a conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus. Nicodemus is a Pharisee and part of the ruling class. He came to see Jesus at night, so no one saw him. A Pharisee cannot be seen asking questions; a Pharisee is the one who has all the answers.

To put these verses, which we heard today, into context, we need to back up to the start of this chapter. Nicodemus says, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”

Nicodemus acknowledges who and what Jesus is. Nicodemus is wise enough to know that only someone sent by God could do the things Jesus has been doing. This is only the third chapter of John, and yet Jesus is already sparking conversations. In chapter 2, Jesus turns water into wine, and, as we heard last week, Jesus flips over the tables in the Temple and goes on a rampage against turning God’s house into a house of thieves. This has come to the attention of the ruling class.

The Gospels record very few private, intimate conversations. Jesus usually preaches to large numbers or teaches his followers, but here we have Jesus sitting with Nicodemus alone at night, having a deep discussion about the nature of faith and what Jesus is here to do.

Jesus answers Nicodemus with this curious phrase about being born again. Naturally, Nicodemus wants to know how this can happen and how someone can be born again.

I believe this one of those phrases has caused more harm than good over the years. Ask an Evangelical Christian, not the crazy ones building walls and restricting women’s rights. Still, the average, everyday Evangelical what it means to be “born again,” and you will hear about the anointing of the Holy Spirit, turning your life over to Jesus, public declarations of salvation, backsliding, and all the rest.

I am not saying that is wrong. It’s not how I see it in context with the rest of Scripture.

You have heard me say that Jesus came to bring change, a change in our relationship with God, and a change in our relationship with others. I interpret this passage as “no one can see the kingdom of God unless they change.”

Jesus speaks of being born of the water and the Spirit as an apparent reference to baptism and the necessity of one being baptized. Part of our theological understanding of baptism is that we die with Christ and rise again. Baptism is not a cleansing from some long-ago sin supposedly committed in some garden. Baptism is a realignment of ourselves with that of God.

But what about those of us who were baptized as infants and did not choose to be baptized but rather someone else chose it for us? This is where confirmation comes in. As reformed Christians, we do not hold confirmation to the same level as baptism and communion; they are not sacraments in the same sense but rather sacramental acts. The rite of confirmation is an opportunity to publicly declare that Jesus is Lord and that you will walk according to his teaching about love to the best of your ability.

I want to stress again that this is a private conversation that Jesus is having. They are probably sitting around a fire; they might be leaning close to each other so others do not hear. Jesus’ friends are probably sleeping nearby, and Nicodemus does not want anyone to listen to him asking these questions.

With this backdrop in mind, here comes one of Jesus’ most famous lines, and he says it in private, John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” As crucial as that line and its theological understanding, what comes next in verse 17 is more important.

 “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.”

Let’s think about this briefly: Jesus did not come to condemn. This was not only a seismic shift in the first century but also a seismic shift today. If Jesus did not come to condemn the world, then how is it possible that I am supposed to condemn the world? Keep in mind that when we speak of “the world,” we are speaking of all of creation, all of it.

Now, unlike many people today, my theological education can come from a school and not the seminary of Facebook. I have read more than one book about theology and understand that there is so much more I need to learn and understand. However, sometimes, social media proves to be a worthy advocate. I mean, a broken clock is right twice a day.

The other day, I came across this little saying, which has stuck with me in preparation for these words today. “After close study, I have concluded that Jesus believed there are two kinds of people: your neighbors, whom you are supposed to love, and your enemies, whom you are supposed to love.”

In the entirety of what Jesus said, not what others said he said but the actual words handed down to us, Jesus does not condemn anyone. Sure, he has some pretty harsh words for the religious leaders of his day, but he does not condemn them. Hanging on the cross, he forgives those who have just done this to time. He forgives the thief and tells him he will join him in paradise. No words of condemnation ever!

How did we take such a simple message, love everyone, and make it so complicated? This message is so simple that Jesus chose to say it not on some big mountain but as part of an intimate conversation between two people. Our faith is about relationships, our relationship with God, and our relationship with each other.

Now, I call it a simple message, which certainly is, but loving is the most challenging thing we can do. Condemnation is easy; hate is easy, but love, love costs us something. Love requires a dying to self and our natural sense of whatever is best for me. Love requires us to listen even to the stuff we do not want to hear. Love requires us to change our vocabulary from “I” to “we” and from “me” to “us.” Love my friends is not easy but it is required.

But God knows this. A God that loves the created world so much that this all-powerful being is willing to lower oneself, to leave the throne, so to speak, and walk with the little people is not going to require something impossible. What sort of all-loving, benevolent God would that be?

God knows that we will fail, but there is no condemnation, there is no; sorry, but you cannot come in. God has shown us a way of love and that way makes room for all sorts of trips and falls, mistakes, and wrong turns. All God asks of us is that we try, we try to love our neighbor and we try and love our enemies.

This is the good news of Jesus Christ, not that he died to remove some sin, but that Jesus came to show us a new way of living and a new way of loving. Humanity had lost its way and was more interested in condemnation. But that little verse after the one at football games tells the real story. Knowing that God sent Jesus to us how much the creator cares for creation is essential, but the idea that there is no condemnation in that is of the utmost.

The good news, the message we need to preach, is that the love that God has for us is unconditional and complete love; there is no condemnation, not now, not ever.

The way of Jesus is the way of love. And the way of love will change the world.

Amen.

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