Stayin Love

Easter 5b, May 3, 2015 (Acts 8:26-40; I John 4:7-21, John 15:1-8)

I need to tell you. So much of our lives are good, richly blessed by God. We have people who love us. We have people we are called to love. We live in a country where there is abundant water, accessible and affordable health care, freedom to worship. We even can speak or write as we see fit without fear of being imprisoned or worse yet abducted and murdered. And the beauty of this place, ocean, mountains, rivers, parks and diversity of people is astounding. So much of our living is richly blessed.

 

And yet, not all is smooth sailing. There are now over 7000 known dead and 2 million displaced in a country some of us may not have heard of before April 25.  How many other people are still lying – under rubble? Miraculously, might there may even be 1 or more yet found?  How many of those people now are homeless?

 

There are times in our own lives when we experience a profound sense of loss – when we are cut off from others or from that which seemed near and dear to us. If have any compassion and watch the news all kinds of realities surface. Riots erupt in Baltimore as yet another young black person dies surrounded by police. How many more black people will continue to die? Will there be justice? Will there be justice here regarding our own intergenerational traumatization of first nations people? I wonder about this as two aboriginal women come into my office regularly telling me sad tales of their own lives, siblings and what continues to unfold. They are survivors of residential schools.

 

At times we know a deep sense of loss or somehow being separate from others – even from God. Some of what I have hilighted may seem far away from us. But is it really? Do we not personally and collectively know the sense of loss, of being estranged – from friends who have walked out of our lives, from jobs that are changed or changing, from illnesses like cancer or ALS that suddenly rear their foreboding, unrelenting heads? Who will call or visit or simply disappear then? Often it's surprising.

 

What do we really need in those times of being cut off or pruned, in those times when we are in pain, when we are exposed or facing death and great loss?

 

Don't we then need, friends, family who may or may not approve of all that we are or have done, but who choose to actively love us? They love us by coming by, by listening to us, perhaps even cooking us a meal or bringing us some food. They may transport our kids, ourselves or others to necessary appointments. They will weep with us, laugh with us and hope against hope with us. This kind of love dear is messy. Such love is honest. Sometimes we will vehemently disagree with such people. Sometimes that friend, that family member will be courageous enough, loving enough to be absolutely honest with us. Then we will have to face our own beauty and our own shortcomings.

 

Such deep and abiding relationships are based on honesty, vulnerability, journeying together.

 

Jesus had spent 3 years with his followers. The previous evening Jesus had gathered his followers together, ate with them and then washed their feet. He urged them to serve others, even as he was serving them. That's part of being in a deep abiding relationship with others.  Often we are called to serve – to feed, to listen, to aid, occasionally to speak – not out of our convenience, or even from our need, but out of love and concern for them.  

 

This abiding kind of love both with each other, and with a variety of others, as in a congregation, does not originate with us. Sometimes, by God's grace, "our love" reaches great heights and depths of service, even sacrifice.  As it does, our love is empowered by something, someone, so much greater and different than we ourselves. Jesus could wash his disciples' feet BECAUSE. Jesus could go to the cross for his disciples and the entire world BECAUSE. Because God, the "Father" of Jesus loves the world – not only individuals but each and every person and our collective identities: the people of Nepal and Chile; the first nations people and those who in seeking to colonize them thought at some level they were doing them a favor; men and women; boys and girls; gay and straight – Jesus too loves the world. God's love is not a feeling that comes and goes depending on our behaviour or obedience. Undoubtedly there are many times when God is not pleases with our behaviour. But God continues to work at loving us anyway. God doesn't give up on us. God intervenes in human affairs. God becomes human in order to demonstrate God's love by serving others, by giving completely of God's own self FOR US.

 

So, let me ask. Who else so loves you? Is it your bank by "extending" you credit at 2.64%? Is it the stuff we so desperately try to amass – our cars, our houses? How are they loving us? Or is it closer to the truth that they are seeking to control us?  All such things are merely temporary.  

 

Will it be your employer whom you may have faithfully served for years that will love you in such a profound way – that they would die for you? Will they listen to you and care about you in all of your relationships? Yes, who will love you in this "staying", abiding way?

 

It is God alone – who takes on our frail flesh and washes dirty feet, who reaches out to touch people we may be too frightened to approach, who seeks to feed people who are hungry, physically, emotionally and spiritually. It is this God who is speaking to us RIGHT NOW.  God loves us so much that sometimes God tells us that we must change. As we listen it will become clear what needs to change – what we must give up in order to experience such a change: the illusion of self-control; the belief that if we just work harder everything will be OK. It's often a lie.

 

Hear God's promise through Christ. "Abide in me, as I abide in you". Abide is the English translation of the Greek word, meno, which means to dwell or tent. The early Christian community realized that the risen Jesus already tents within them, collectively. They needed to rest in that, dwell in that, be opened to God's presence each and every day.

 

In Jesus comes that kind of abiding, strong and amazing love. Through him, the fruits of living with his love and forgiveness naturally arise – peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, joy, generosity, hope These qualities flowing from Christ,  attract and draw others – feed, nourish and help them.

           

Does this mean that everything is easy, wonderful and nice? Of course not! After all we are people, sinners and saints at the same time, being drawn by Christ to live and serve together in communities of faith. Even though we are joined together in Christ we sometimes still act as jerks. Even though we are connected to Christ, sometimes others still act as jerks. Then there is the call for more honesty, more vulnerability and a letting go –as the Bible puts it "forgiveness".

 

To be sure sometimes we feel cut off, maybe even "pruned". But know this.  The risen, suffering Jesus draws near to us, to live and tent within us as a group. He does this because He loves us. By God's grace we can listen and experience his presence while exploring his call upon our lives. As we do, even accidentally or intentionally, wonderful, life-bringing things happen. It's all beyond any price. Amen.

BEYOND IMAGE

Easter 4b15 (Acts 4:5-12; I John 3:16-24 and John 10:11-18 To be preached April 26, 2015)

Over the years I have had the privilege of listening to different people's stories - particularly their faith stories.  Some time ago I was privileged to listen to a woman who was soon to face critical surgery. In asking her how she was doing she replied that she believed that Jesus would be holding her hand both before and during her surgery. She also mentioned that Jesus would be holding the hands of the surgeon. I view this as an incredible faith story. This doesn't imply that everything will necessarily go the way she wants it to. This doesn't mean that there won't be any complications, or that she or her family will be spared from great struggle. So, what does her statement mean? I think it means that somehow she believes that the risen Jesus is there for her, with her, no matter what happens!

 

This fourth Sunday of Easter is often referred to as "Shepherd" Sunday. Even as I mention this I feel like you might nod off.  After all, there is important stuff going on. Right now there are people still alive under the rubble caused by the earthquake in Nepal. Right now there are people trying to survive in an ashen state caused by the volcano in Chile. Right now there are women here at home terrified by the violence of their boyfriends, partners, husbands. Right now there are kids being abused by people they know. Right now there are also great things happening – people making promises, children being born, good dreams being hatched. There are people devoting their lives to looking for cures to illnesses, people lending their skill and expertise to find other energy sources so that we don't continue to destroy our earth. And there are people devoting themselves to protecting us, caring for us, sharing the good news of God's love in all kinds of ways. All this stuff is going on and the Pastor is going to talk about some archaic image of a shepherd?

 

I will respond by saying, "sort of". Sort of because the image of a good shepherd – is old but as it is applied to who we are, it is anything but archaic. . .

 

Good shepherds protected their sheep. Good shepherds led their sheep to the good pasture – pastures where everything the sheep needed were provided. Good shepherds led their sheep by going ahead of them, calling them, sometimes even by name. Not all of this was cuddly or always nice. Shepherds did have a staff. That staff was occasionally employed for the unruly, unheeding sheep.

 

At night shepherds create a fold for the sheep. This was a thicket or an enclosure surrounded by some kind of barricade to somewhat deter predators. The shepherd then guarded the door so that predators would have to go through the shepherd to get at the sheep. Good shepherds put their lives on the line for their sheep. And the sheep know them – their voice, that they could be trusted.

 

Jesus claims to be the good shepherd. As the good shepherd, Jesus says, "I know my own and my own know me". 

 

Such knowing  is so much more than "head" knowledge. The way that the shepherd knows the sheep is a profound knowing. Such knowing is the way a caring mother can read the body language of her child. She will know whether her child needs a hug, a glancing touch, to be held, to have a band aid applied, or even to be left alone. This is the kind of knowing that occurs between 2 people who deeply love each other over a long period time. Even a slight change in one's voice can signal that something is deeply wrong or amazingly good. This is the kind of knowing that sometimes even occurs between a master and a dog when the simple word, "walk" is spoken or a leash is reached for. 

 

Jesus knows us – the wonderful, the amazing, the differing potentialities, the dreams, the disappointments, the struggles, the fears, the loneliness – ALL of whom we are, individually and together.  Jesus knows us. He knows our voices – whatever our age, whatever the changes that come with aging. He knows our thoughts – as wild, as desperate, as daring as they may be. He knows our fears. In all of this knowing Jesus chooses to love us – not as a fleeting feeling, but with all He is. He lays down his life that we might know that we are loved, that we are worth everything to Him. He truly knows us.

 

It's miraculous – that He knows and loves us!

 

But there's also a 2^nd part to this miracle. We can know him. This Son of God, the One who is there with the Creator from the beginning of time. This One who is the goal of all creation – the Beginning and the End. We can know Him. Not just about him. Not only as a character in history.

 

God sends the Spirit to stir up trust within us – trust that God through Jesus loves us – trust that this risen Jesus comes to us in what are seemingly ordinary things – like water washing over our heads saying, "You are mine, forever." Yes, he comes to us in a variety of seemingly ordinary things like words that are somehow addressed specifically to us. The risen Jesus comes to us in bread and wine. Somehow at different times our disaffections are removed and we hear him speaking TO US: "This is my body. This is my blood, given for you!" By His grace we are enabled to trust and begin to know him. AND NOTHING IS EVER THE SAME...

 

Things still happen with us, to us and through us. Good things, amazing things, wonderful things – children are born, we are loved and enabled to love; we are being forgiven and miraculously sometimes let go, forgive others. We learn new, deep realities about ourselves and others. But now, all of these wonderful realities come to us under a much larger expanse – a canopy that spreads her life-giving wings over everything. We know that all of this comes to us from and through God because we know the good shepherd, God's own Son. We are daily being gifted with new eyes, ears, minds and hearts.

 

It is also true that difficult, and even horrific things also come our way. Loved ones suffer, become ill, experience broken relationships. Sometimes such realities are part of our lives. Hateful things are done by people to others and to our earth. Sometimes we contribute to that. Some of these things are so horrific that to us they are unimaginable. Some of these things we cannot look at for very long – they are too painful. Our hearts are torn asunder. We may feel ourselves sinking into the depths of despair.

 

But the suffering, risen Jesus, this good Shepherd comes to us because he hears the cries of our voices, hearts and minds. He comes because as that woman whose story I began these reflections with is right. She is right not so much in the sense of being correct.  Rather she is right in the sense of having been known by this Good Shepherd. By His grace she is coming to know him.  Even though we walk, crawl through, or even lay down in the darkest valley of death, this Good Shepherd comes to be with us. He will not abandon us. He goes before us. He is with us. He will take our hand and lead us through and out.

 

This "shepherd" is no archaic image. Instead He is the very Son of God, who knows us intimately and loves us. Do we hear his voice? ... Amen.

 

Even Us

Easter 3b, Luke 24:36b-48 (April 19, 2015)

Confused – disappointed – disheartened.

 

Maybe we can identify with those earliest disciples. Maybe there are times when we have felt that we have been giving it our all – you know at work, at home, in our marriages, with our kids – even working at our own health. Then, somehow the bottom falls out. We don't "get" what we were expecting. Work becomes harder and harder – we can only run so fast. The kids don't appreciate all that we are attempting to do. Sometimes not even our spouse does. And just when we were getting our eating or exercising in order – something else occurs that disrupts us beyond belief. There are only so many hours in the day. There is only so much one person can do. Sometimes the one or ones that we had really counted on, that we thought were reliable, let us down.

 

Who can blame those disciples for being confused, disappointed, even disheartened. They had invested three years of their lives following Jesus. Three years of hoping against hope for incredible change. They had gotten glimpses of it. Jesus miraculously fed and touched people, people who before he drew near to them were famished, people whom others treated as untouchable. Truth be told, sometimes the disciples own hearts and minds were lit up, seemingly on fire as Jesus spoke and acted. Who knows what might come next?

 

But then "it" happened. Jesus was arrested, tried and ..... EXECUTED! They had hoped. Now their hopes are dashed. What they have ended up with is - DEATH. Jesus had died. Let's be realistic. Maybe it's time to just keep on keeping on – go back fishing, you know? That's what they were beginning to think – in the muddy despair of their hearts and minds. Who can blame them for doubting? Actually, who can blame us? 

 

So often, contrary to what Jesus lived and taught - might becomes "right"; violence wins and innocent people die trying to escape poverty, violence. They pay money to pirates to cross a sea but they drown in the process. In our own lives there are times when our deeds are nothing to be proud of. Sometimes our greed, our lust, or other insatiable appetites are given into.  Too often this is our story. Nothing seems to have changed even though Jesus came.  Finally there is death – one of those two certainties that Benjamin Franklin underlined. So it has been. So, it will be. Despair loudly rings out. . .

 

But right then, into the middle of their confusion and despair, Jesus appears. Yes, Jesus the One who WAS DEAD. He is with them. They are startled, terrified. This must be a ghost! They wonder if they are losing it.  Is the traumatisation of his death now causing them to hallucinate? . . .

 

Now he speaks to them. "Peace be with you!" Aware of their doubts, of their being startled, their terror, he invites them into his reality. "Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see. For a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see I have."  Then he eats with them. After eating, he teaches them, opening their mind to the scriptures. God has a dream to move people from death into life, from brokenness with God and with each other to new beginnings, harmony involving honest, intimate relationships. This is for all people. Those early disciples are to be his witnesses of all these things – to the world, beginning from where they were that day.

 

Amazing! It is amazing. To our post modern ears, minds and hearts it feels like long ago and far away. We are after all realists. We live in this technological age – with a number of certainties. Ah, how we love certainty, knowing, sometimes even thinking that we are somewhat in control. But then things happen, things over which we have no control. We get sick. We reach our limits. Someone we counted on lets us down, or worse yet betrays us. One or more of those we love die. Confusion, disappointment, despair well up within us. We aren't so far removed from those early disciples. 

 

It can be at any moment, sometimes when we least expect it, sometimes when we most need it, that Jesus appears among us. If he speaks directly, even audibly to us, we too may be startled, even unbelieving. Are we losing it? Or, is it rather, that we who sometimes are lost are being found?

 

Today Jesus comes to eat with us. He is not a ghost. He comes offering us himself – so that in the midst of our confusion, our anxiety, our exhaustion we can experience that we are not alone, that God is God – that God overcomes death and all evil. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it. I know. But Jesus comes – emptying himself, taking on all the crap of the world, begging us, inviting us, wooing us to trust him.

 

And then, even though he knows us completely, he calls us just as he did those earliest disciples. "You are witnesses of these things!"

 

It's kind of scary. No, it's really scary. That our risen Lord would call us to be the bearers of his good and gracious word. We who are not only imperfect, but so often miss his mark of love, forgiveness, generosity, self-sacrifice.

 

This reminds me of one of my seminary professors, Dr. Buck. Dr. Buck is a man of great faith, humility and incredible intellect and service. About a week before my class graduated he said this to us< " When i think that you will soon be pastors it causes me to pray fervently".

 

Dr. Buck knew us. He knew our pettiness – our refusal and or inability to listen, to proclaim, to embody Jesus, to discern God's will.  But Dr. Buck also knew the One who was and is sending us out. 

 

Dear people in the midst of all that is going on within us, around us, through us, in this world, through this world, Jesus comes to us. Be still. Listen, see, be opened. By God's grace turn to him. Learn again or for the first time that whatever our yoke and burden, He carries it with us. Peace be with you!

 

It all feels and sometimes appears totally unbelievable. But with God all things are possible. Even things that exceed our confusion, our despair, any and all disappointment. After all Jesus lives and because he lives so too can we!

 

Be witnesses to these things. Amen. 

 

Before Us!

Easter Sunday, April 5, 2015 (Mark 16:1-8a) with Isaiah 25:6-9 and Acts 10:34-43 in b.g.

 

How precious life is. This morning I was privileged to gather with Christians from many different denominations at Garry Point Park. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. The full moon was still high in the sky. Ducks were taking off and squawking. Our eclectic mix of Jesus' followers, young and old, people of many different cultures and histories boldly proclaimed, "Hallelujah Jesus is risen", even as we sang, "Jesus Christ is risen today."

 

Please take a moment to reflect upon the blessings in your life: friends – family, faith – personal and collective capacities to read, to pray, to laugh, to travel. How blessed we are! How we sometimes coast – taking it all, all of these blessings from God, for granted: the air, the water, our ability to think, to remember – God's love and forgiveness. How precious life is!

 

But in the midst of such life– are you ever afraid, even terrified?

 

Only a few days ago persons we refer to as terrorists, took over a school in Kenya and murdered 148 students. A majority of the students so targeted were Christians.

 

Only a few days earlier a co-pilot deliberately crashed a passenger plane into the French Alps, killing himself and everyone aboard.

 

Even closer to our immediate circumstance we may notice a bump, begin to cough, struggle with memory. Any of these realities could be nothing. But they might also be something. As people we have the ability to take wonderful things and make of them too much of a "good thing". Then, almost before we know it, we are stuck, caught, in webs of addiction – to food, to drink, to gambling – to – well, you name it. Even in our families we can go round and round, seemingly caught in the same script, a script that is less than life-bringing

 

Yes, we know fear, maybe even terrifying fear.  I do. I recall the fright, the terror I experienced as our youngest daughter was being born in the back seat of our 1988 Oldsmobile. It was simultaneously wonderful and frightening.

 

Perhaps fear, even terror is part and parcel of what it is to be a human being – a person of flesh and blood who can appreciate the preciousness of life but is also ever aware at some level of our frailty, our mortality, our propensity to often hurt and damage those whom are also precious  to us.

 

Perhaps ....

 

On that particular day – in some ways a long time ago – and in other ways only this morning - three women are on their way to a place of death. They are trudging to the tomb that held the body of a man whom they literally loved more than life. He had been executed. They know that. They had watched it!

 

Now if you have ever watched a loved one die – been near them, hoped with them through the days and nights, languished as they have languished - you will know a little of what those 3 women are going through. I say a "little" because their loved one didn't die between the starched sheets of a hospital or hospice bed. Nor did he even die in a tragic accident.

 

Instead he died because people – people like you and I, people including you and I couldn't stand him. He reached out to include, to love, a whole variety of people. He would touch and eat with those whom others, particularly the "religious" wouldn't even approach.  He reached out to question the religious authorities who insisted that people must do certain things a certain way to be included in the love and forgiveness of God. He said, no, that's not right. He reprimanded the religious leaders as he told stories. He even overturned tables in their "church". Out of a deep and profound love for them he shows them themselves.

 

The people, common, ordinary people couldn't stand it. They demand that he be executed. And, he was. Early this morning, those 3 women, together and yet alone, heart-broken, consumed with grief, trudge to his tomb. Theirs will not be an easy task. Yet they will do it. They will honor him.

 

Who can blame them for not thinking clearly? The tomb had been sealed with a large stone, a boulder – larger than the 3 of them can move. How can they get inside?

 

Then they dare to look up. Surprisingly, the stone is already rolled back. They enter the tomb. A young man, just to their right, speaks. They are alarmed. Who is he? How is he here? He interrupts their racing minds. "Do not be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified...............He has been raised. He is not here. Look where they laid him".

 

Don't be afraid? Their dead loved one is not there, is no longer dead – but risen. Yah, right- don't be afraid?

 

 These women are not fools. They have lived. They have been around the block. Dead is dead. Jesus was dead. That's why they were spices to his tomb.

 

Then it gets even more absurd. That guy in white, says more. "But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him just as he told you."

 

Now terror and amazement overcome them. They flee from the tomb. I wonder at this point if they weren't Lutheran. They say nothing to anyone. In directly encountering God's messenger and this incredible news of Jesus, THEY ARE AFRAID, FILLED WITH TERROR.

 

They are terrified, not because of ISIS or a mentally ill pilot who could catastrophically end their lives. Nor are they afraid because of their own mortality. Instead they are afraid because God is encountering them right where they are. The things that until that moment were certainties – particularly the horribly powerful and ugly things like death – are being overcome. Now there are  possibilities that merely a moment before were irrefutable impossibilities. Because of Jesus who loved them so even to the point of allowing himself to be murdered but who is now raised – who knows what might be next? It is incredible! So, they are filled with both terror and AMAZEMENT. We see them run off.

 

I like movies. Some people prefer movies that have a definitive ending – either happy or sad, but endings which tie things up in a neat bow. Such movies give you a sense of resolution. At the ending of the movie the tensions are smoothed over or resolved. The movie has ended and that's that. Nothing more is demanded or expected from the audience.  

 

But many movies don't have such neat, tidy endings. Such movies leave the audience with different possibilities and even some ongoing tensions. The audience is left with wrestling with what may happen next and what does any or all of that mean for the lives of the characters, perhaps even for their own lives?

 

For these three women their fear and amazement eventually give way to telling. How do I know that? Well, we wouldn't be here proclaiming, "Alleluia, Christ is risen!", if they and others hadn't become witnesses.  Jesus goes before them to where they will live– with all of its uncertainty, disappointment, joy, hope, celebration and love.

 

This risen living Jesus goes before us too. He goes before us to lead us, to love us, to free us from things that we have somehow been convinced are just the way things are – things of death: hatred, paralyzing fear, insecurity, apathy, selfishness, despair.

 

That man in white speaks to us. To be sure, Jesus was dead! That's what happens to people, even the Son of God, when we refuse to compromise the holy, just and merciful love of God for all. But see - those powers of death, hatred, evil cannot hold him. He is no longer dead. He is alive! And He goes before us wherever he leads us.

 

Do you see Him? Follow Him even through our times of terror and amazement. Because he lives, we too can live- right here, right now, through all death to new life. In him, our endings, whatever they are, lead us and many others to new beginnings. Amen.