The Day that Wasn’t

John 20:1-18

Our journey is complete. Some 40 days ago, we began a spiritual journey that has brought us to this moment. We started this journey by being reminded, on Ash Wednesday, that we are mortal and that our time here on this earth is short. Then, we witnessed Jesus calling his Apostles and the start of his ministry. This ministry would include healing a blind man or two, cleansing leapers, making water into wine, walking on water, raising Lazarus from the dead, and his great political stunt last week, his entrance into Jerusalem.

And this week, we witnessed his final days. So many of us skip Holy Week and go right from the joy and celebration of Palm Sunday and skip right over to the joy of Easter. We skip the messy bits in between. We skip the betrayal by a close friend. We skip another friend denying Jesus three times. We skip the command to “do this.” We skip the forgiveness given from the cross and the final breath of the one who gave us all breath.

But regardless of how we got here, what is essential is that we are here and have witnessed the victory of life over death. Today we see the result of ultimate love and the gift of forgiveness. Ultimate love and forgiveness for all of us, for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son so that all who believe in him may have eternal life.

But today, we need to back the story up just a little. The story begins early on that first Easter morning. We meet Mary on the road. We hear in another Gospel that she is bringing the spices necessary to complete the Jewish burial ritual. You see, they had to remove the body of Jesus and place it in a tomb so quickly because it was the Sabbath that they did not have time to prepare, and now they had to complete the task.

Perhaps while she walked, she reminisced a little about the last three years and maybe even thought about her grief over what had happened over the previous twenty-four hours. She continued her journey mentally, preparing for the task ahead.

She arrives at the tomb, and the stone has been rolled away. The confusion comes over her, and a touch of concern. She fears the Romans or the Temple authorities have come in the night and stolen his body. We have the benefit of knowing how this will all end, but Mary, standing there looking at the empty tomb, has no idea what is happening.

We read that Mary Magdalene was among the first to arrive. There are many stories about who this Mary was, but regardless of her past or what she had done, she was one of the first to arrive and, might I add, was the first to preach the good news of the Resurrection. But then, we read that she ran back to tell the others, and by others, I mean the men hiding behind locked doors; she comes to tell them that the stone has been rolled away and that Jesus is not there.

In Mark’s Gospel account, we read that this same Mary encountered a man she thought to be the gardener who told Mary that Jesus was not there, that he is risen, and that she was to go and tell the others and Peter the good news. That same gardener, the Risen savior himself, asks Mary why she is weeping. For Mary, Jesus was the only one to accept her as she was. Jesus was the one that protected her and brought her love and forgiveness, and now, not only was he dead, but his body was gone, and she did not understand.

Why do you weep, the gardener asks, and she tells him it is because Jesus is gone. Then the man calls her by her name, and instantly she knows it is Jesus, and her tears of sadness turn to tears of Joy and hope, hope in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and she is so full of this joy that she runs back to tell the others.

When we strip it all away, the entire story of Lent and the entire story of Holy Week, actually, the whole story of Christianity is about hope. Jesus came and walked among us to bring us hope and to show us a way of life that would bring us hope and teach us how to bring hope to others.

Sitting in that upper room, the place where only a few short days before Jesus had shared the Passover with them, the Apostles and the others had lost all hope. Their teacher, their leader, and their friend had been taken away and murdered right before their very eyes. Peter had lost all hope recalling that he had denied Jesus when the going was difficult for him. They recalled that one of their own, who had been with them from the start, had turned him in to the authorities, and he was also now dead. They had lost all hope until someone brought them the good news that Jesus is Risen from the dead.

Right now, maybe even sitting here among us, are people who have lost hope. Right now, maybe even among us, some people feel they are not loved. Right now, perhaps even sitting here among us, some people do not think they can be forgiven for their actions. But right now, in this special place, we hear the good news that Jesus Christ is Risen, and because of that, you are indeed loved. You are indeed forgiven. And we have hope. Hope that things will get better, maybe not tomorrow, but they will get better because Jesus is not some distant far-off God, but a God who humbled himself to share in our humanity, our grief, our pain, our anguish, and Jesus understands and loves us unconditionally.

The story of the Resurrection does not end here. The story of the Resurrection has to be taken from this place, just as it was taken from the tomb and loudly proclaimed so that all will hear and have hope. We need to proclaim the Resurrection with our very lives because we have been forgiven and we are loved, and we need to show the world that they are as well.

Let us find that Easter joy, a joy so complete that it transcends all hatred and bigotry, and that we can see each other as loved and forgiven and take joy in that knowledge.

Why do we weep? We weep because God loves us to such a degree that no matter what, God loves us and forgives us.

Amen.

Palm Sunday ~ This is the Day

Matthew 21:1-11
Matthew 27:11-54

This is the day! This is the day we have been waiting for these last five weeks. Finally, what started as a reminder of our own mortality is coming to a close on this day with shouts of hosanna in the highest heaven.

This is the day. A day of contrast, a day of raw human emotion that will turn the world on its ear.

This is the day. This is a slash day, passion/palm Sunday, when in one liturgical service, we move from shouts of joy to cries of murder and revenge. This is the day.

Jesus knew his time was coming to an end, and he knew not only what was coming as an end for him but how he had to make it all happen. Until then, he was a mere annoyance, a preacher/do-gooder from the back of the beyond preaching about love and helping people. Okay, that is all well and good until it starts to interfere with those in charge.

Jesus had been to Jerusalem before, so it was no big deal for them to go back. Passover was coming, and he wanted to celebrate it in the Holy City. There is nothing unusual about that. For Jesus, this would be his last Passover with his disciples, but they did not know that. For the disciples, this was just an ordinary Passover.

In our first Gospel reading this morning, we heard of Jesus sending two unnamed disciples into the next town to, for what it looks like, steal a donkey. They were simply to tell the owner that “the Lord needs them” and take it. I can tell you this does not work in today’s world, so please, don’t try this at home.

Rather than walk into Jerusalem, Jesus is going to ride. But this is no mere ride; this is the ride that will put things in motion, for this will be the “ride heard round the world.”

When one city loses a battle with another city, and it will be taken over, the King or ruler of the victorious city enters the conquered city riding on a horse. The horse is an animal of war and battle. The horse is a powerful animal, and the bigger the horse, the more powerful. The horse symbolizes the rider conquering the city they are entering.

On the other hand, the donkey is an animal of peace. Also, Matthew mentions that the Donkey would have a colt with her. The donkey has recently given birth and is still caring for her newborn. This is no war animal; this is an animal of nurture and support.

When a king from a neighboring city came to visit another king, they often entered that city riding on a donkey showing that they came in peace and not war. The donkey is a work animal designed to bear a burden. Donkeys are, for the most part, docile and stubborn animals, not really one can rely on in an attack. Donkeys are smaller than most horses and do not threaten anyone.

Although Jesus is coming as a conquering king, he comes in peace and love, so he has chosen the donkey. Unfortunately, those around him completely missed the nuance of the situation as they usually do, but the religious and political leaders did not.

Jesus climbs upon the donkey and heads toward the city gate. People start to gather as usual when a parade is going by. Many are wondering who this is and what all the fuss is about. Remember, Jesus is relatively unknown still. The crowd grows, they don’t know why, but they start to sing. Many take off their coats and lay them on the ground with branches from nearby trees.

They start to shout “Hosanna,” which by Jesus day has become more of a greeting like “howdy,” but the original meaning was “God be with you.” Then the crowd calls Jesus the “Son of David,” and eyebrows start to rise. David was the King, the great King, and all of the kings of Israel have come from his line; they are calling Jesus king!

Last week, we heard the story of Jesus raising his friend Lazarus from the dead. There was no mistake, since Lazarus had been dead for four days, that Lazarus was dead. We heard in the Gospel that a decision was made that this Jesus needed to be destroyed. He was doing too much good, and the authorities could not have that. There was no way to control him, and the authorities did not like that it made them uncomfortable. But their discomfort was about to get worse.

There was a fine line between the Roman and Jewish authorities. For the most part, as long as there was peace, the Romans allowed the Jews to do whatever they wanted. Of course, they had the temple guard to keep the peace, but the Roman soldiers always lurked just out of view.

Jerusalem was not a plumb assignment for a career diplomat like Pilate. He must have done something wrong to get assigned to this backwater, one donkey town. He needed to get back into Caesar’s good graces to get a better post. He needed to make sure things stayed peaceful, whatever the cost.

Then along comes this guy named Jesus, who has just been declared King by the crowd, riding on a symbol of kingship and entering the capital city of that region. This was a powder keg ready to blow, and something had to be done.

But it does not end here.

Remember, Jesus knew what had to be done. He needed to be killed, not as some payment for some debt, not because some heinous bloodthirsty God required that his flesh and blood be destroyed. No, Jesus suffered and died for us so we would know that Jesus understands what humanity goes through. Sure, Jesus could have lived to old age, but what would that prove? Jesus was killed, at the hands of the government, after a sham trial because he made them nervous with his revolutionary talk about love and equality. It is incredible how a little equality talk cause people to do all sorts of crazy things.

Later this week, we hear the story of Jesus turning over the tables in the temple courtyard. This act of rage and anger confused those following him. He had never done such a thing. How could the one who preaches love, acceptance, and peace become so angry? But the authorities saw this differently. For them, this was an attack at the very heart of their economic system. Jesus exposed corruption in the system, and they did not like this. This was the final straw; they had to do something.

In the second Gospel from Matthew, we hear of the authorities conspiring to arrest and kill Jesus.

This is a story of how easy it is for a crowd to believe something just because someone in authority told them it was. This is a story of a group of people so desperate to stay in power that they lied and rigged a trial to execute someone who came in peace, preaching love and equality. This is a reminder of how quickly things can go from good to bad.

Today is a day of contrast, and we must ask ourselves where we would be. Would we go along and follow the crowd? Would we be the ones shouting Hosana today and a few days later be crying, crucify him? I urge you to take time this week, this Holy Week, to meditate on all that we will see and hear. I ask you to come and spend time with Jesus and the others as he walks willingly to his death. We cannot celebrate the resurrection if we do not experience death.

Let us enter this Holy Week prayerfully and in expectation of all that is to come.

Amen.

Sermon: In the Presence

In the Presence
John 9:1-41

How do you see the world? This is an interesting question to ask right after we hear the story of the man born blind. Until he encountered Jesus, he had not seen the world. Sure, he experienced the world through his other senses, but he had not seen the world. He had only imagination and the description of other people to inform him of how things looked. So he saw the world in a certain way.

When Jesus and his disciples first encounter the man, they ask, who sinned him or his parents? 1st-century medical knowledge was limited in relation to what we know today. It was thought that disabilities such as being born blind were a reaction to sin rather than some medical explanation. Obviously, it was someone’s fault, and the disciples wanted to know the answer.

If we see the world in black and white, we always look for the cause, but if we see the world as shades of gray and other colors, a world of opportunity opens to us. It is no longer good vs. evil or us against them; it becomes something much more.

There is an interplay here between light and darkness. In one sense, the man born blind is symbolic of the world. Jesus has encountered a world that is blind, blind to the suffering of others and he hopes to change that. Jesus is bringing light not only to the man born blind but, through his actions, to the entire world. He is opening not just this man’s eyes but the eyes of all of humanity.

As you have heard me say in the past, very often in Scripture, when a person is not named, it is because the person represents something larger than themselves. In a sense, we are all born blind. Although we can see we need someone to care for us in every way and provide all that we need. As we age, those needs change, and we become more resilient.

Not long ago, Nicky and I switched out Oonagh’s crib for what we call her big girl bed. Physically it is the same bed with a different side. She was so proud that first night and a little concerned when she saw the larger piece at the bottom of the stairs. She entered her room, looked at it, and then looked back at me. I told her it was ok, and she ran over and climbed in. As a result, our evening ritual has changed; she can now climb into her bed by herself and does not need me to lift her in any longer. She is moving too fast for me anyway, from dependence to independence.

But back to the blind man.

A couple of things to notice. The first is Jesus does not ask if the man wants to be healed. In fact, he announces that this man exists solely for the purpose of this moment in time. Jesus says, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind, so God’s works might be revealed in him.” So he does not ask permission to heal; he just gets to work.

Healings in Scripture take on many forms. Sometimes Jesus is present, and sometimes he is not. Sometimes he touches the person, and sometimes, the person touches him. He heals with words, with his presence, and his touch. But his time, Jesus goes a little further and uses an outside element to heal. He uses dirt and spit.

Remember, there is symbolism in everything.

Dirt is, well, dirty. If it gets tracked into your house, you sweep it out. So one of the first things that would happen when you entered a home in Jesus’ day is your feet would be washed to remove the dust and dirt from the road. Dirt is what is under our feet, but dirt also provides life.

Tomorrow is the first day of Spring, the day of equal light and darkness. In the Norse and Celtic traditions, it was also the day that seeds were planted, and prayers were said that the harvest would be plentiful and get them through the long winter ahead. Seeds hold life, but that life only begins when buried in dirt or soil. The very thing that is alive must first die to be born.

Jesus stoops down, gathers dirt on the road, spits in it, makes a paste, and places it on the man’s eyes. This should remind us of the creation story from Genesis. God fashioned humanity out of the dust of the earth. We began the season of Lent with the words, “you are dust, and to dust, you shall return.” Jesus is using the elements of creation that makeup humanity to restore humanity to what it was created for, to worship God!

But it does not end here.

Another first. This is the first time that the person being healed has to do something; Jesus tells the man to go and wash in the pool, not just any pool, but the pool of Siloam, which means sent. The base elements of creation have been applied; the man has been told to go and wash after he washes; he can see. The one sent by God has come not to judge, not to save the world from sin, but to restore humanity to that relationship that existed in the beginning. Jesus has not come to save us from sin but to save us from blindness.

Jesus came to open our eyes to another way of seeing the world. We no longer see the world through the lens of rules and regulations, but we see the world as God sees the world with mercy, compassion, and love. Rather than destruction, God chose love, God chose to send Jesus into the world, not to condemn the world, but to show the world a different way. To open the world’s blind eyes and point them away from the darkness and towards the light.

But the story does not end there.

Our friends, the Pharisees, witnessed this little miracle and have some questions. Talk about a group so blind by their own rules that they cannot see the glory of God! Anyway, they hall the man in to question him. Of course, Jesus cannot be who he says he is because not only did he uses dirt and spit, he did this on the Sabbath. Jesus knew what he was doing when he did it. Jesus knew what day it was and that his actions would invoke a response. In a sense, Jesus was poking the Pharisees in their collective eyes!

The Pharisees don’t believe him and actually get enraged when the man, “formally born blind,” presumes to teach them. They don’t believe his story, so they haul his parents in. His parents throw him under the bus and say he is old enough to answer for himself. So they ask the man again, who asks them why he is asking again since they did not answer the first time. Then he gives the best sarcastic answer in all of Scripture, “why do you ask?” he says, “Do you also want to become his disciples?” They become unhinged and throw him out of the temple. They call him a sinner and banish him forever. They think they are casting him into the darkness, but he has witnessed the light, and darkness will never overcome it.

He encounters Jesus and tells his story. Jesus asks if he believes in the Messiah, and the man asks who that is. Jesus tells him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” And the man believed.

The Pharisees question Jesus and insist they are not sinners. Jesus tells them that those who see and reject become blind. Those who cannot see the suffering of others, those who set up rules to keep others out rather than welcoming all, are the ones who are blind, and the sin of ignorance causes their blindness. There are none so blind as those that refuse to see.

What blinds us today? Do pride and arrogance blind us? Does a lack of knowledge blind us? Is it fear that blinds us? Whatever it is, Jesus can and will heal us from that blindness and bring us back into the light.

Amen.

Sermon: Go From Your Country

Genesis 12:1-4a
John 3:1-17

It was Christmas Day 1989, and I imagine my family, like most families, was settling in for Christmas dinner. It was just another Christmas for us, but across the world, the Romanian Dictators Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu were being executed, after a hasty trial, for crimes against the Romanian people. The entire nature and horror of those crimes would not emerge for months and years, but for the first time in a generation, the Romanian people could breathe the breath of freedom.

It was January 1992, and I was finishing my studies at Eastern Nazarene College in Quincy. One of my last requirements was a missions course that was being offered during the January term. J-Term courses were intensive, three-weeklong courses that met every day for those three weeks. The course was taught by Nazarene missionaries from the Azores who was home on leave. I had to take the class as a graduation requirement, so I signed up.

The first day of class arrived, and I went to the appointed classroom full of suspicion. I wondered what these Nazarene missionaries would teach this nice Catholic boy. Little did I know that one class would change the direction of my life.

The class would focus on world missions but with a particular emphasis on the work in the orphanages of Romania. The course instructor, who remains a very dear friend to this day, would be bringing us firsthand accounts from the field. Her daughter and friends were in Romania on a mission trip to bring what aid and comfort they could to the children in a particular orphanage far away from the media attention in the Capitol City of Bucharest.

Remember that this was back in the day before Al Gore invented the internet, so communication was difficult. But we heard stories of the work being done there, and something inside me stirred. I had felt this stirring before, but this was new. This was to leave my comfort zone and “Go from my own county.”

Today we have two stories of movement and change. We begin with the story of Abram from the Book of Genesis. Abram, who would later become Abraham, is called by God to leave everything he knows, his family, his home, his flock, everything, and go to a place he has never heard of.

It is an interesting use of words here. God does not call Abram to a particular place; nope, God calls Abram to leave everything for a “land that I will show you.” Abram does not know the destination. God is calling Abram not only to leave everything but to trust in the destination that is not certain. God calls Abram to step into the dark without light and trust that God will guide him along the right path.

Abram is like most of the people God calls ordinary. Abram is home, doing a job living a life he has chosen, and, by all accounts, is pretty happy. They were not native to the land they occupied, but people traveled in those days to find better land to graze their livestock and raise their families.

I am sure Abram had dreams and aspirations, but this call came along and changed it all. Genesis tells us that God called Abram, but what does God’s voice sound like? A couple of weeks ago, we heard of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness and God’s voice coming from the sky, saying, “this is my son in whom I am well pleased.” Was it that sort of voice? Did anyone else hear it, or was it just Abram?

How did Abram, or for that matter, how do we know it is God’s calling and not us sounding like God, calling us to do something? We want to be sure; we need to be sure. That thing was stirring inside of Abram to Go and do. So Abram started listening to that still, small voice inside of him and tested it to see if it was God. Abram determines it is God’s voice, he listens to God, and his life changes forever.

Abram is called to change his location; Nicodemus is called to change his mind.

Not all of God’s calls are to do extraordinary things like found nations of people or raise the dead. Sometimes, God calls us to change our minds. God calls us from the wilderness of ignorance and darkness into the bright light of knowledge and love.

In the Gospel passage, we hear from John Jesus meets Nicodemus. Nicodemus is a teacher and a council member, so he has to come to Jesus in secret. Nicodemus is afraid of what will happen if he is found out. Many people feel this way and are uncertain about stepping out of their comfort zone to ask another to come to church. What will they say? What if they ask me questions I cannot answer? My faith is private, and I want to keep it that way.

Nicodemus was not afraid of discomfort; he was scared for his life. If he were found out, he would be put out of the Temple and shunned, basically ending his life. But he desired knowledge and sought out Jesus for the answers.

Nicodemus was an educated man and believed a certain way. Some people like things in black and white, and they do not want to think about things differently. Because of their privilege, some people want things to remain the same as they have always been, and when challenged in their narrow belief, they make fun of those who believe differently and call them things like woke.

Change can be difficult, and realizing that the way you have always thought about something is not necessarily that way can be jarring to one’s system, and we do not always react as we should. But then enter outside forces that think like you do and constantly preach the message you want to hear. Maybe your church does or the news network you listen to. You are so deep in the belief that the very thought that you might be wrong seems impossible.

Then along comes this guy named Jesus who says we have to love everyone. Surely, he does not mean everyone. He must mean people who look like me, talk like me, love like me, and think like me. Surely, he will allow me to continue to hate and persecute those who are different. Surely, he will let me hate people I do not understand because I am so unsure of my own skin that I have to persecute them to feel better about myself. Surely, he means that I can persecute those who do not think the same way I do and force them to believe the way I do. Jesus is not saying that everyone deserves to be loved and forgiven; he cannot be saying that!

But that is precisely what Jesus is saying. I mentioned last time that if your God hates the same people you do, it’s time to find a new God.

The call to discipleship is a call to change. Once we decide to follow Jesus, we must do just that; follow and following requires action. We must be willing to see things differently and through this lens of love for God and everyone. We do not have to like others or support their actions but must love them.

In January 1992, I felt something that I determined was God’s voice. I left all that I knew and all that was comfortable and, for a short time, put myself into an uncomfortable position. I left my country and traveled to Romania, where I worked for a month doing what I could. As I said earlier, that yes to that stirring changed my life in ways that I still have not figured out. It opened my eyes and my perspective and changed the way I thought and think about so many things.

Abram listened to God’s voice and became the father of a great nation that changed how we now look at the world. We are, in a sense, inheritors of that call to Abram and are part of that great nation of believers. Like Abram, we are being called to “Go from our own country” of darkness and ignorance. We are being called into the light and to help others find that light. We are called to come and see what God is doing in the world and what our part in that is. The critical piece is that we are looking, listening, and not standing still.

We have questions like Nicodemus, and we can find the answers. We are being called to challenge our beliefs that we thought were true and might have been at the time, but now, not so much. We are being called to examine and reexamine our beliefs and our thoughts. St. Paul said that when he was a child, he thought and acted like a child, but now that he is an adult, he needs to think and act like an adult.

We must be open to the idea that not everyone thinks the way we do and that we might be wrong. We must be open to the concept of change. As much as we want them to, things cannot remain the same forever; things must change. Faith is not a static practice; it is ever-moving and ever-evolving. Nicodemus asked questions, and although he did not get a direct answer from Jesus, he was put on the path of enlightenment and discovery. But it began with questions and seeking answers. Do not be afraid to ask questions and challenge the answers and your beliefs.

Don’t worry about having all the correct answers or doing things the right way; God does not call the equipped; God equips the called. If we say yes when God calls, we will be prepared, and there are a ton of examples in scripture to back that up. So don’t worry about your preparation or lack thereof; just say yes to the call and enjoy the ride.

Amen.

Blessed Are

Matthew 5:1-12

Every so often, there is a clamor for the 10 Commandments to be placed on the walls of courthouses around the country. If memory serves, there was a judge in a southern state that felt the 10 Commandments were more important than the Constitution when it came to the laws of the land. Then I read where a minister asked, why do we put the Commandments on the wall, not the beatitudes?

Chapter five of the Gospel of Matthew begins what has been called the Sermon on the Mount. Mountains play a rather significant role in the life and ministry of Jesus. Just before this passage, Jesus is tempted by being brought to the highest mountain in the area and shown all the lands. The tempter tells him that if he worships him, he will have all of this. There are several other occasions when Jesus is on a mountain teaching and preaching, but there is something special about this one.

We have come to the point where Jesus is ready; he is prepared to begin his ministry. He met John and called for folks to repent. He has wandered in the desert for 40 days and been tempted. He has called his disciples, those that will be the closest to him over the next several years, as he lays out a vision for the Kingdom of God.

There is a connection to the history of Israel as well. I mentioned that Jesus had been in the desert for 40 days already. After John baptized him, Jesus went out in solitude to prepare for his ministry. He spent that time wondering if you will in the desert and being tempted. This parallels the time the Jews spent after the Exodus in the desert. You will remember they spent 40 years wandering and faced all sorts of temptations.

But today, he stands on this mountain and lays out for us what he has in mind, his ideas, and his vision for the Kingdom of God, which he says is at hand. He stands as Moses stood on the mountain when he gave the law written by God’s hand. But this law, this fulfillment of that law of Moses, is not punitive but rather the new way for us to bring God’s kingdom right here.

It is important to note that at the very outset of Jesus’ ministry, he stands tradition on its ear. God’s kingdom, God’s love will not be directed to the upper wealthy but rather to those on the margins, those on the underbelly of society; blessed are the poor, the meek, and those who mourn. These come right at the start of this whole thing. Jesus is showing a preference for those we do not like to see.

But it sounds weird to say blessed are the poor, the meek, and those who mourn. So how can we find blessings at those times in our lives? We need to start by looking at the word blessing or blessed.

Like most words in translation, there are several meanings, and it is up to the translator to choose the correct word that conveys not only the meaning of a particular word but the meaning of the phrase the word is part of. So, for example, the Greek word translated here as blessed could also be translated as happy, happy are those… But it could also be translated as blissful.

So unlike the law that Moses gave, these ideals that Jesus is offering are not something we are measured against or feel guilty if we do not live up to. There may be more to what is happening here than what we see on the surface.

What if, and hang in there with me, Jesus encouraged us at the outset of his ministry rather than an impossible standard to live up to? What if, rather than another list of things to feel guilty about, Jesus encourages us for the long journey ahead?

We have already seen in the preceding chapters that Jesus has gone into the wilderness and proclaimed the kind of Messiah he will be. He calls together a community that will be with him to help him in the coming weeks, months, and years. He spends time teaching and healing and then, in this chapter, tells us full-on what he is going to do, changes everything.

Jesus is calling the world to repent but not in the sense of “shame on you, you dirty sinner,” but rather, “get on board, turn around and follow me.” Jesus is presenting us not with a measuring rod of failure or success but a glimpse of the community of faith. A glimpse of what we can be.

I believe that Jesus was not specifically talking to the poor, the meek, those who mourn, and the rest, but instead, he was speaking to us, the community. What if Jesus said, “blessed is the community who makes room for the peacemakers. Blessed is the community who makes room for the meek, those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, who are poor in spirit. Blessed is the community who makes room for those who mourn at the brokenness of the world, who is unstained by the impurity of the world. Blessed is the community who knows persecution is inevitable and still decides to make room for those the world thinks are unimportant.”

Since the time of Moses, the law has been used as a stick to keep people in line; many religions and many Christian faith groups today continue to use the law to keep people in rather than encourage them to create communities built on love and support.

Jesus is ushering in a new way to be a community. Jesus is not abolishing the law of Moses but instead changing the focus away from the juridical aspect of the law towards grace and mercy. We must remember how radical this sense of community was, where there was room for everyone without exception. A place where people would be nourished and helped without question. A community where we grow together and journey together.

But all will not be bliss if we adopt this ideal of community. The final two blessings are for those who will be persecuted for following this new way, and we will; we are. Not everyone has or will see things in this way. Many cling to the law because it gives them a sense of superiority over others and this, sadly, includes many of my colleagues in ministry. But I cannot be concerned with what others think, nor should you.

Getting caught up in the things that divide rather than the things that bring unity is very easy. As followers of Jesus, we are called to a particular way of living our lives which is summed up relatively well in the Prophet Micha, “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Amen

Sermon: The Water’s Fine

Matthew 3:13-17

I am not sure, but I was probably a month old, but shortly after I was born, I was brought to the Church to be baptized. I was dressed in a white garment, denoting my innocence that I still carry to this day. My family and some friends gathered around the marble font that was at the back of the Church; the priest read some prayers, promises were made on my behalf, and water was poured from a gold seashell over my forehead with the words, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I had been part of an ancient ritual that we still practice today.

Today, we gather on the banks of the Jordan River and see John the Baptist, dressed in his ragged clothing, calling people to repentance and a change in their way of life. When Jesus comes, John hesitates; he tells his cousin that he should not baptize him, but that Jesus should be the one doing the baptism. Jesus tells John that he must baptize Jesus to “fulfill all righteousness.” And so, John Baptized Jesus.

Immediately after, the heavens were opened, and a voice was heard, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Scripture also tells us that a dove landed on Jesus’ shoulder; the dove is often the symbol used to denote the presence of the Holy Spirit. This is one of several theophanies or epiphanies that we encounter in Scripture, moments when Jesus reveals that he is God, not just at that moment but from in the beginning.

But why did Jesus have to be baptized?

To answer that question, we need to look at a few things. First, what is the nature of baptism? What does baptism do? And the most fundamental question is, what does baptism mean?

The answers to each of these questions could be a sermon or a lecture in and of themselves, so I will try to summarize 2,000+ years of theological study and understanding; you might want to hold on, this might get a little bumpy.

Water is the ordinary means of baptism, and water is vital to life. We need water to sustain our life and the life of all of creation. Water is the substance that joins creation together; without it, creation will cease to exist. We use warm water to clean and sanitize and cool water for refreshment. We find peace beside the still water, and very often, the sound of gentle water falling during a rainstorm calm and soothes us.

Water is also essential to us in the life of the Church. In the introductory words of the baptism service, we hear these words, “we are initiated into Christ’s holy Church, … incorporated into God’s mighty acts of salvation and given new birth through water and the Spirit. All this is God’s gift, offered to us without price.” The Rev. Taylor Burton-Edwards explains, “Baptism is the ordinary means of rebirth and initiation into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”

Scripture tells us that God created all of creation, including humanity, to be good, but that goodness was distorted when sin entered the picture. Sin distorts the image of God contained inside of each of us and degrades the whole of creation. In baptism, we reject the power of sin and begin our journey as disciples of Jesus Christ.

The baptism ritual begins with a series of questions asked by the minister and answered by either the person being baptized or their parents, Godparents, or guardians if they cannot answer for themselves. The questions ask if we renounce wickedness, reject evil, and repent of sin; accept the freedom and power of God to reject evil, injustice, and oppression; and confess Jesus as Savior, trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as Lord alongside all who are part of the universal Church.

But baptism is only the beginning. Rev. Burton-Edwards explains, “Baptism starts that process of breaking us away from sin’s power, but it is sanctifying grace throughout our lives that actually accomplishes it.” Baptism makes room for God’s grace to begin to work within us.

Now just a quick bit about the so-called “original sin.” We often hear this term, which relates to that first “sin” of humanity in the garden. You will remember I talked about this recently and said that the original sin was pride and arrogance. This sin is what distorts the image of God in humanity and degrades all of creation.

The idea of original sin is that we not only carry a propensity to sin but that we are somehow tainted with that first sin. It would be like someone in your family, say, your father committed a crime and was sentenced to prison. For whatever reason, he could not fulfill the sentence, so the court told you that you had to finish it. Not only do you have an association with the crime because it was your relative that committed it, but now you have the guilt of that crime.

Theologically this is not the case. At baptism, we are not cleansed of something that happened eons before we were born by people, even if they did exist, that we did not even know. This idea that we must be cleansed from something beyond our control does not line up with my understanding of a God who loves and cares for me. Why would I carry such a sentence before I can do something about it? It is theology like this that has done damage to people and the witness of God’s love for all without exception.

As I have said, baptism prepares the way for grace to begin to work in each of us. Through the grace of baptism, we are entering a covenant relationship with God, and God is entering a convent relationship with us. Baptism gives us the tools to walk in the light rather than the darkness, but we have to choose to use those tools and learn how to use those tools.

“Baptism is not an act that imparts something just to you,” Burton-Edwards clarifies. “It is an act that brings you into a spiritual relationship with the whole body of Christ. In which you are becoming one with them and they are becoming one with you.”

Just a quick bit about baptism and church membership.

In a United Methodist Context, baptism makes one, regardless of age, a member of the Church universal, the denomination of The United Methodist Church, and their local congregation. In the United Methodist Church, there are two types of membership: baptized and professed.

Professing members are those who have been received into membership by profession of faith and those who were baptized into the Church but have made a public profession of that faith by confirmation of the promises made at your baptism and by reaffirmation of those same promises.

Let us now turn our attention back to Jesus and the Jordan.

John’s baptism was about repentance and confessing sin, so does John consider Jesus, a sinner? Did Jesus consider himself a sinner and in need of repentance? Scripture mentions nothing about sin as it relates to Jesus’ motivation to be baptized by John. Jesus’ baptism is more likely a signal of identification of Jesus with God’s kingdom, which John says is at hand and which Jesus will shortly proclaim and inaugurate. In this way, repentance is not only preparation but a response to God’s presence among us.

But wait, there’s more.

Jesus’ baptism signals his humility in submitting to God’s call through John. Jesus fully identifies with all those coming to John seeking deliverance and preparing for the suffering to come for God’s chosen servant.

John is saying there is no longer confidence in the Jerusalem authorities as the exclusive arbiter of God’s redemptive activity. Jesus’ baptism by John anticipates his own denunciation of the temple authorities and his crucifixion at their hands.

Our baptism may signal for us a turn from the power of sin and death, but it is often less clear what false gods in our lives we are turning from and what new ways we are turning towards. Jesus’ baptism signals his denial of the power of sin over him generally and a refusal to bow before any power but God, including the power of empire that dominates Jerusalem. Our baptism signifies our commitment to his story, his ways, and his fate as our own.

Water is an integral part of the story for the reasons I have mentioned and a few theological reasons. Creation came out of water. Water was the first element created by God. Water became a sign of the covenant made between God and humanity through Noah. Salvation for Israel came from the parting of the waters during the exodus from Egypt, and it is through water that the redemption of humanity in the earthly ministry of Jesus began.

Jesus’ baptism formally marks the beginning of a new stage in God’s action as creator. A new time is brought forth, and the realization of God’s intentions not only for humanity but for the whole of heaven and earth, whose unity, disrupted by human disobedience, is now being restored by the obedience of God’s son and servant.

Matthew’s story of Jesus contained in his Gospel is not just about the salvation of humanity and is not just about our transport from earth to heaven. Instead, this is a story about the reconciliation of the whole of heaven and earth.

This is what the idea of a new creation is all about and why the baptism of Jesus is not just an event for him. On the contrary, this action of Jesus submitting through humility to John is the beginning of fulfilling God’s purpose for the whole of heaven and earth.

Our baptism prepares us to continue and participate in this redemptive work. So let’s get busy and get to work.

Amen.

The Lone Walk

Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick takes the Lone Walk in 2015

The transition of power in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts occurs with the official swearing-in of the new Governor and Lieutenant Governor in the House Chamber on January 5, 2023, at 11:30 am. The peaceful transition of power is steeped in tradition and the law.

Before the swearing-in of the new Governor, the outgoing Governor hands over a few items to the new Governor; a pewter key to the Governor’s office, the Butler bible (that belonged to Civil War General and Massachusetts Governor Benjamin Butler), a gavel made from wood from the USS Constitution, and a two-volume set of Massachusetts general statutes with an inscribed note from each Governor.

But the most visible sign of this transition of power is what is known as the Ceremonial Lone Walk.

It is unclear when this tradition began. Some say it started with Governor Increase Sumner in 1799. Sumner served as Governor from 1797-1799, the Governor’s term was one year in those days. It is unlikely that Sumner took the Lone Walk because he took his last oath of office in bed and died five days later.

Suffolk University History Professor Robert Allison gives credit for the Lone Walk to Governor Benjamin Butler at the end of his term in 1844. Butler left office with few friends and political allies and literally walked alone down the steps of the State House. The tradition has continued since with slight modification.

The front doors of the State House are also steeped in tradition. The Ceremonial Front Doors are only opened on three occasions; when the Governor leaves the building at the end of his term, when the President of the United States or a foreign Head of State visits, and the reception of Regimental Flags into the Permanent Collection.

At 5:30 this evening, Governor Charles Baker will take the Lone Walk, symbolically ending his eight years as Governor. Governors Ed King, Michael Dukakis, Jane Swift, and Mitt Romney all made the walk with their spouses. Tonight’s walk will include Baker with his wife, Lt. Governor Karen Polito, and her spouse.

Sermon: The Story Continues

Matthew 2:13-23

This is probably one of the most challenging passages of Scripture that comes in our lectionary passages. As difficult as it is, we must face these challenges head-on and look for meaning through all the carnage. Sure, there are questions, why would God allow such things to happen? If God could warn one family, why not all of them? As difficult as the passage is, the answers are even more difficult if there are even answers to the question.

I am no biblical literalist, so from the outset, there is no evidence in the historical record that this event took place. Instead, scholars believe Matthew is using a story of great horror to showcase Jesus’ eventual death; why he chose this way to describe it goes beyond my understanding, but we are left with it, and we cannot hide from it.

Although we are only a week from the birth story, we have kicked things into high gear. First, the shepherds have come and gone, and now, the Magi have also come and gone. We have yet to hear much about these Magi or Wise Men, but they take center stage in the story today. We hear more about them next week when we celebrate Epiphany, so for this week, let’s leave it at that, they outsmarted the King, and he was not happy.

With everyone gone, Mary, Joseph, and Jesus are by themselves for what might be the first time since Jesus was born.

What is often overlooked in this passage is God’s faithfulness that is woven throughout the passage. The family takes a journey escaping death threats and a violent ruler’s anxieties in a story of three distinct sections held together by dreams, divine action, and geographic movement with a ton of symbolism.

Matthew is writing to a predominantly Jewish audience, and because of that, he wants to show that Jesus is the long-awaited Christ. Matthew quotes the Hebrew Scriptures more than 40 times, indicating that the story of Jesus is part of God’s continued faithfulness to Israel. Matthew seeks to proclaim and confess that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah and has come to fulfill Scripture. The promises made to Abraham and his children are realized in this child, and Matthew wants to make that point. The Magi, who are not Jewish and thus outsiders, are symbolic of the fulfillment of humanity’s hopes and that Jesus’ salvific work will not be confined to the Jews but to everyone.

We have another dream sequence; this is the third if you are keeping score. In this dream, Joseph receives instructions to take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt. Joseph’s actions show his continued trust in God and obedience to what is being asked of him. He does this without question; he answers yes to God and does what is asked.

Another Scripture seems to be fulfilled here. Reaching back to Hosea, “Out of Egypt I called my son” (2:15). Hosea is not usually considered a Messianic text but is used by Matthew to link the story of Jesus with the story of Israel. Matthew leads us to consider a connection between Herod and Pharaoh and illustrates that the family of Jesus and Jacob found safety in Egypt.

In the passage from Matthew, we hear a quote from Jeremiah about Rachel weeping for her children (31:15). In Jeremiah, Rachel weeps for her children (Israel) in Ramah as they are taken into captivity in Babylon. This passage expresses deep grief, but it is also a passage of hope, looking toward the day they would return. Jeremiah and Matthew name the grief and trauma, and yet, loss and darkness are not the end of the story; hope remains that even amid significant loss and suffering, we can trust in the ultimate faithfulness of God.

Then we have another dream sequence, and Joseph is told to leave Egypt and return to Israel; the danger has passed, and he can go home and establish his home in Nazareth. There are a few reasons why this place was chosen to be the family’s home. First, there may be subtle hints towards Jesus as a Nazarite, one set apart for holy service. There is also a linguistic connection. Again, using Matthew’s desire to link Jesus with the coming Messiah, who will be from the line and branch of David. The Hebrew word for “branch” sounds like “Nazareth,” and this harkens to the passage from Isaiah, the branch that comes from the stump of Jesse (Isa. 11:1).

But the most common seems to be the idea that Jesus hails from an insignificant place, showing God’s continued preference for those on the outskirts of society. There is a contrast between Jesus as King and Herod as King. Jesus lives in a quiet corner of the Roman Empire, offering a ministry of inclusion and restoration. Jesus manifests his power in love and humility. Herod lives in a palace surrounded by wealth and displays his power through violence and killing.

Matthew does a fantastic job linking the story of Jesus with the story of Israel. Both Jesus and the Israelites go to Egypt to seek safety and come back. The stories are linked by water: Israel is guided to deliverance through the Red Sea, and Jesus is declared God’ Son in the Baptism in the Jordan. Israel and Jesus were both tested in the wilderness. Israel cannot uphold their end of the covenant God made with them. Jesus redeems the story and offers a new way and a new outcome.

Jesus’ story redeems humanity’s story, providing hope amid loss and, ultimately, liberation. The story of the incarnation, God becoming human, is a story of power manifested in love and humility. This is a story of joy mingled with loss. We start to see the shadow of the cross in this story as a tiny child threatens a powerful king.

The critical point of this story is that even while suffering and death, we can remember the signs of God’s faithfulness, love, and humility. We cannot forget that hope is found in a child, God incarnate, and in the divine promise of ultimate restoration, not just for Israel but for the whole world.

Amen.

Christmas Message 2022

While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2:6-7

Tonight, behind all the lights and tinsel, the packages and bows, and the parties and time with family, a little child is born in borrowed space to two frightened parents uncertain about the future and what will come next for them.

Tonight, we witness the birth of the Prince of Peace and the Lord of Lords through Word and song. But he does not come with robes of purple and gold chariots; he comes in simplicity wrapped in simple bands of cloth and is placed in the only space available, the place where the animals feed.

With all of creation around him, the creator once again walks with creation, and the rift created by the pride and arrogance of humanity is repaired. Because the “Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” we no longer live in darkness, and our wandering can cease.

This is the night, O Holy Night.

The other night, my family and I watched A Muppet Christmas Carol. I had read somewhere that this was the most faithful to the original Dickens story of all the other versions. Unfortunately, I cannot testify to that, but it is an excellent telling of the story.

While watching, I was reminded that we never truly understand what another has gone through to make them who and what they are. All we see is what lies on the surface, and perhaps, like Scrooge, that makes them appear cold but under that gruff exterior is a human being, created in the image and likeness of God, that needs compassion and understanding.

It took some pretty radical interventions to get Scrooge to change his stony heart into a heart of flesh. What Scrooge needed more than anything else was love and compassion. Scrooge learned that there was nothing he could do to change the past, but he could change the future, and he was shown how to do that.

The child whose birth we celebrate tonight came to show us a different way. This way is the way of love and the way of compassion. Our task is to continue to follow that way and show others love and compassion.

The story of Christmas is love, love for all without exception.

The Cold Moon: Time for Reflection, Endings, and Celebrations

As I write this, most of the country is in the cold grips of a winter storm. It is precisely these events that give the Cold Moon her name. The Farmer’s Almanac says that this moon is the Cold Moon because we have just entered winter. Native Americans refer to the moon by this name because of the changes in the natural world, and the midpoint of winter, which we entered with the solstice a few days ago, is the darkest part of the season.

Some may find it odd and even a bit heretical for a Christian minister to be writing about the spirituality of the Moon, but I see nothing wrong with taking part in the energy of creation. I believe that God created all around us and that the essence of God is in all of creation. There is much we can learn about bringing balance to our lives from the natural world, the natural ebb and flow of the seasons, the dying and rising again, and the long rest periods. As much as we might try and deny it, we are part of the natural world and creation, and our bodies respond to the energy in all creation. If we only allow our minds to open, we will see this reality and begin to understand how we are all connected.

This season is also a time for reflection and endings; it is the last moon of the year which will shortly come to a close. Noura Bourni writes, “we’re asked to sit in silence and stillness, ideally contemplating the last 12 months of our lives and allow gratitude to inform our thought process.” Since we are stuck inside anyway, it is a good time for this reflection.

But we are not just to reflect; this is also a time of endings. Shed anything that might be distracting or damaging to your soul and spirit. Write these things down on paper, toss them in the fire, and free yourself from them. There is something healing about putting your pen to paper this way, and tossing that paper into the fire is an act of freedom from those distractions.

In your time of reflection, review what is no longer working for you and resolve to make changes in your life that do not include those things. Then, like distractions, write those down on paper and throw those into the fire. Then, as the fire consumes the unwanted in our lives, bask in the glow and warmth of that same fire that will make way for new life to emerge in you.

This time of the year is also ideal for repairing relationships. Reach out to those we have become estranged from and offer or ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness is essential for our spiritual well-being. Remember that forgiveness is for us, and our soul is critical. The act of forgiveness, even if it is not accepted or reciprocated, frees our soul from the burden it has been carrying and returns the power to us. Forgiveness is a powerful tool in our spiritual life. Ending the year with repaired relationships allows us to begin the new year with a clean slate.

The Cold and last moon of the year is also a time of celebration. We recently began the celebration of Yule; Christmas will soon be upon us, and Hanukkah started a few nights ago. These seasons celebrate light, and now the days will begin to get longer as we welcome the sun’s rebirth.

During this time of light, the light of the season, and the light of the Cold Moon, ask more questions, share your feelings, and be present in the current moment. Doing so will help promote warmth, camaraderie, and optimism during this otherwise cold and harsh period of the year.

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