8/9/09 at St. Mark's and St. James
I received this in an email the other day:
Satan called a worldwide convention of demons. In his opening address he said, "We can't keep Christians from going to church." "We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth." "We can't even keep them from forming an intimate relationship with their Savior." "Once they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken." "So let them go to their churches; let them have their covered dish dinners, BUT steal their time, so they don't have time to develop a relationship with Jesus Christ.."
"This is what I want you to do," said the devil: "Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!" "How shall we do this?" his demons shouted. "Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds," he answered.. "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow..." "Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work 6-7 days each week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles." "Keep them from spending time with their children." "As their families fragment, soon, their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of life!" "Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small voice." "Entice them to play the radio, CD player or iPods whenever they drive. To keep the TV, VCR, CDs and their PCs going constantly in their home and see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays non-biblical music constantly." "This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ." "Fill the coffee tables with magazines and newspapers." "Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day." "Invade their driving moments with billboards." "Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogs, sweepstakes, and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering free products, services and false hopes.." "Keep skinny, beautiful models in the magazines and on the TV so their husbands will believe that outward beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. " "Keep the wives too tired to love their husbands at night." "Give them headaches too! " "If they don't give their husbands the love they need, they will begin to look elsewhere." "That will fragment their families quickly!" "Give them Santa Claus to distract them from teaching their children the real meaning of Christmas." "Give them an Easter bunny so they won't talk about His resurrection and power over sin and death." "Even in their recreation, let them be excessive." "Have them return from their recreation exhausted." "Keep them too busy to go out in nature and reflect on God's creations. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, plays, concerts, and movies instead." "Keep them busy, busy, busy!" "And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences." "Crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Jesus." "Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family for the good of the cause."
"It will work!" "It will work!" It was quite a plan!
The demons went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get busier and more rushed, going here and there. Having little time for their God or their families. Having no time to tell others about the power of Jesus to change lives. I guess the question is, has the devil been successful in his schemes? You be the judge.
We fill our lives with so much clutter, so much noise, that we block out God. We forget that our hunger is for God, and we fill ourselves and our lives up with things that don’t satisfy, things that actually keep us from God. Somewhere else I read that one of the devil’s greatest weapons is distraction. We get distracted by our own worries, hopes and fears. We get distracted by television and radio and talk and news. We check email and blogs and search the Net. We fill up the silence, consuming anything and everything but the bread of life.
Once again I will take issue with the lectionary, wishing our gospel text starting two very important verses earlier, though I believe this was the end of last week’s text. Beginning at John 6:35 here’s what we missed:
35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. 36 But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe.
These verses introduce our Gospel reading, and Jesus makes on of his I AM statements. I am the bread of life. Before he was living water, and now he is bread. The essential stuff of life. Bread and water. God’s provision. In the Exodus story of the Old Testament people grumbled and cried out for water and for bread—and received the gifts of water and manna. In the Psalms and the Prophets their hunger was for wisdom, for the sustaining presence of God. And now Jesus is that food, he is that bread. And still they do not believe.
In the next few verses Jesus confidently discusses his work and mission, because he knows that his success is entirely due to the work of the Father. Jesus is the one who is sent by God and God is the one who calls people to Jesus; those who come to Jesus with faith will not be cast out. And even that faith is a gift from God. It’s not so much about Jesus welcoming those who come to him as about taking care of those who the Father has given him. There is always a tension between God’s sovereignty, God who calls and draws individuals—and the responsibility of individuals to respond. The initiative is always God’s. It is God who supplies the bread of life, and anyone who eats of this bread will live forever.
Jesus is misunderstood—they grumbled because don’t know who he is. Sure, they think they know him. Isn’t he the son of Mary and Joseph? Don’t we know his family? They don’t know, they don’t see, that he is so much more than what they see. And Jesus doesn’t really defend himself against their complaints but insists that God is the one who initiates their faith, the Father is the one who enables them to see. He is the bread, he is the one who must be consumed. He said:
“This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."
Jesus is the bread who must be eaten; and we make the decision whether to eat—whether to believe—and receive the gift of eternal life. Jesus would give his own life, his own flesh as a sacrifice for the life of the world. He is the sacrificial lamb. Jesus is the bread of life and those who come to him will not hunger, those who believe in him will not thirst.
What is it that we hunger for—what is the bread that we pursue? What is our thirst, our insatiable desires for those things that do not satisfy? How do we try to feed our hunger? Better yet, how can we be fed by God? Remember, even religion, even the church can be poor substitutes for the living God, and will not satisfy our hunger. Being fed by God is simplicity and silence. Being fed by God is spending time with Jesus. It’s about love, about relationship, about Jesus the bread of life. It’s not about being a Christian, but about knowing Jesus and his transformational presence in our lives. God the Father is willing and eager to give us the bread that satisfies, to give us life and peace if we silence the noise around us.
I am the bread of life, the bread that comes down from heaven, the bread of eternal life.
You are what you eat.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
July 19 Proper 11
I have some friends, a couple, who told me about moving to a new town several years ago and visiting the Episcopal Church there, a church they intended to make their home. They were welcomed at the service and at coffee—and were invited out to lunch with the priest and his wife, and another person, a lay-leader in the church. They settled in at the restaurant and the first thing the priest asked them was whether they were liberal or orthodox. Needless to say, this couple was pretty taken aback by this question; so often our denomination has been characterized by being open to a wide range of thinking, a denomination that has encouraged us to think about our faith and the consequences of our faith for our lives without dictating exactly what that should be, what it should look like. My friends certainly didn’t expect to hear this kind of question. And I would hope that if they showed up here, we wouldn’t ask them this question!
We tend too often to label ourselves and others, don’t we? Liberal or conservative, progressive or orthodox. Reasserters or reappraisers. And those are just some labels being tossed around in church circles these days. Add in our political leanings: again liberal or conservative, democrat or republican. CNN or Fox News.
Even further: introvert or extrovert, male or female, rich or poor, black or white.
And I don’t think any of these are right or wrong.
But we start getting in trouble when we identify ourselves with certain labels, and demonize those who may be on the opposite end of the spectrum. When we think we have all the answers, and those who disagree are discounted, shut out and alienated.
In the 1st century, there were few people further apart than Jews and Gentiles. The circumcised versus the uncircumcised. God’s chosen people against the nations, never mind that the Jews were chosen to be God’s people in order to be a light to all the nations, all the gentiles. In his commentary, William Barclay further explains the alienation and hostility between the two, and especially on the part of the Jews. He wrote:
The Jew had an immense contempt for the Gentile. The Gentiles, said the Jews, were created by God to be fuel for the fires of hell. God, they said, loved only Israel of all the nations that he had made . . . It was not even lawful to render help to a Gentile mother in her hour of sorest need, for that would simply be to bring another Gentile into the world. Until Christ came, the Gentiles were an object of contempt to the Jews. The barrier between them was absolute. If a Jewish boy married a Gentile girl, or if a Jewish girl married a Gentile boy, the funeral of that Jewish boy or girl was carried out. Such contact with a Gentile was the equivalent of death (qtd. Stott, John. The Message of Ephesians. IVP p. 91).
And this is the situation that Paul is speaking into in our Epistle. He first reminds his Gentile audience that before Jesus Christ, the people of Ephesus and Asia Minor, called the uncircumcision, were without Christ—and now they were in Christ. Before they were alienated from Israel, and now they too were God’s people. Before they were strangers to the covenants of promise—and they were now no longer strangers but friends of the promise, included in the covenants. Before they were without hope, no anticipation of relief, and in Christ they have hope. Before they were without God, and now they had been brought into relationship with God. Paul explains that even though they—who are now in Christ—they had been far off, and now they were brought near to God by the blood of Christ. This is sacrificial language—Christ died in order to bring them—and us—into a relationship with God. He died in our place, for our gain. The work of Christ brings us close to God.
How does this happen? Paul explains that Jesus himself is our peace. Christ equals peace, and peace equals Christ. He is peace, makes peace, proclaims peace. We have peace with God and each other, and the peace of Christ breaks down barriers, walls of hostility that divide. “The law as a set of regulations that excludes Gentiles” (Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p.133) is abolished. Gentiles are now included and accepted by God in Christ in the same manner as Jews. This destruction of hostility is accomplished by the Incarnation and especially by the death of Jesus—he took the sins and hostilities of Jews and Gentiles and all of us with him when he died, and in himself, in his body Christ creates a new humanity, a new people incorporated into his body. This brings peace and reconciliation. Through Christ’s death and resurrection we are brought into a relationship with God, and we are connected with each other in Christ. “Divided humanity is reconciled in Christ and joined into a unified, worshipping community” (ibid 134-5), a new man, a new race. No more name calling, no more labels, no more walls.
Through Jesus’ death on the cross, we have been reconciled with God and with each other. We are made one body to the end that hostility must cease. But it is God who by his grace always does the reconciling—he takes the initiative at restoring relations.
Jesus came to preach peace to those who were far off and to those who were near—to the Gentiles and to the Jews—and through him we have access to God by the Holy Spirit. It is by the work of the Holy Spirit that we are incorporated into Christ, united with each other, and have access to the very presence of God.
And now the Gentiles are citizens, part of God’s own household, fellow citizens, joined together, being built together as God’s people, the holy ones. Those who were excluded and alienated are now included and incorporated, sharing in the privileges that Israel has enjoyed as God’s chosen people.
The household of God is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and Jesus Christ himself is the cornerstone. He makes the whole structure possible. He is strength and security. He is the one on whom AND IN WHOM the whole building exists. In him the building is bound together—he is the cement. In him the building becomes a temple. In him the Gentiles and the Jews are built together to be God’s dwelling. All union with God and with each other is in Christ. The ones who were excluded from the temple now become the temple—God’s temple. Christ and his followers are the new temple, replacing the physical building in Jerusalem. In Christ we are a holy temple because God dwells in us. We are in Christ—he is our home. And together with Christ we are God’s dwelling place—we are his home.
When we consider the walls and labels that divide us, that become barriers to our peace and unity with each other, we must also consider what Paul has said about the wall of separation between the Jew and the Gentile—the wall that has been destroyed by Christ.
In his letter to the Galatians St. Paul explains that in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, but all are one—in Christ Jesus. And that’s the key. We are one in Christ Jesus. We are one, united with him, part of his one body, when we are in Christ Jesus. When he is the center, when he is the vine. When we confess that Jesus Christ and his life, death and resurrection are the focus of our life together. When we hold fast to the uniqueness of Jesus as the way to salvation. When we hold forth the Creeds of our church—because they emphasize Christ. Jesus is the main subject and the center point of our creeds. Jesus Christ is the cornerstone. With Jesus as our center, as our foundation, as our cornerstone we are called to live in peace and unity. God in the flesh walked among us, died for us, was raised for us, intercedes for us, in order for us to be reconciled with God and with each other—in Christ. He is our peace. He is our unity. He is our reconciliation.
But when we forget Christ, when we fail to affirm the uniqueness and primacy of Christ, when he is marginalized and discounted, there is no hope of unity and peace.
Jesus is Lord.
Amen.
We tend too often to label ourselves and others, don’t we? Liberal or conservative, progressive or orthodox. Reasserters or reappraisers. And those are just some labels being tossed around in church circles these days. Add in our political leanings: again liberal or conservative, democrat or republican. CNN or Fox News.
Even further: introvert or extrovert, male or female, rich or poor, black or white.
And I don’t think any of these are right or wrong.
But we start getting in trouble when we identify ourselves with certain labels, and demonize those who may be on the opposite end of the spectrum. When we think we have all the answers, and those who disagree are discounted, shut out and alienated.
In the 1st century, there were few people further apart than Jews and Gentiles. The circumcised versus the uncircumcised. God’s chosen people against the nations, never mind that the Jews were chosen to be God’s people in order to be a light to all the nations, all the gentiles. In his commentary, William Barclay further explains the alienation and hostility between the two, and especially on the part of the Jews. He wrote:
The Jew had an immense contempt for the Gentile. The Gentiles, said the Jews, were created by God to be fuel for the fires of hell. God, they said, loved only Israel of all the nations that he had made . . . It was not even lawful to render help to a Gentile mother in her hour of sorest need, for that would simply be to bring another Gentile into the world. Until Christ came, the Gentiles were an object of contempt to the Jews. The barrier between them was absolute. If a Jewish boy married a Gentile girl, or if a Jewish girl married a Gentile boy, the funeral of that Jewish boy or girl was carried out. Such contact with a Gentile was the equivalent of death (qtd. Stott, John. The Message of Ephesians. IVP p. 91).
And this is the situation that Paul is speaking into in our Epistle. He first reminds his Gentile audience that before Jesus Christ, the people of Ephesus and Asia Minor, called the uncircumcision, were without Christ—and now they were in Christ. Before they were alienated from Israel, and now they too were God’s people. Before they were strangers to the covenants of promise—and they were now no longer strangers but friends of the promise, included in the covenants. Before they were without hope, no anticipation of relief, and in Christ they have hope. Before they were without God, and now they had been brought into relationship with God. Paul explains that even though they—who are now in Christ—they had been far off, and now they were brought near to God by the blood of Christ. This is sacrificial language—Christ died in order to bring them—and us—into a relationship with God. He died in our place, for our gain. The work of Christ brings us close to God.
How does this happen? Paul explains that Jesus himself is our peace. Christ equals peace, and peace equals Christ. He is peace, makes peace, proclaims peace. We have peace with God and each other, and the peace of Christ breaks down barriers, walls of hostility that divide. “The law as a set of regulations that excludes Gentiles” (Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p.133) is abolished. Gentiles are now included and accepted by God in Christ in the same manner as Jews. This destruction of hostility is accomplished by the Incarnation and especially by the death of Jesus—he took the sins and hostilities of Jews and Gentiles and all of us with him when he died, and in himself, in his body Christ creates a new humanity, a new people incorporated into his body. This brings peace and reconciliation. Through Christ’s death and resurrection we are brought into a relationship with God, and we are connected with each other in Christ. “Divided humanity is reconciled in Christ and joined into a unified, worshipping community” (ibid 134-5), a new man, a new race. No more name calling, no more labels, no more walls.
Through Jesus’ death on the cross, we have been reconciled with God and with each other. We are made one body to the end that hostility must cease. But it is God who by his grace always does the reconciling—he takes the initiative at restoring relations.
Jesus came to preach peace to those who were far off and to those who were near—to the Gentiles and to the Jews—and through him we have access to God by the Holy Spirit. It is by the work of the Holy Spirit that we are incorporated into Christ, united with each other, and have access to the very presence of God.
And now the Gentiles are citizens, part of God’s own household, fellow citizens, joined together, being built together as God’s people, the holy ones. Those who were excluded and alienated are now included and incorporated, sharing in the privileges that Israel has enjoyed as God’s chosen people.
The household of God is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and Jesus Christ himself is the cornerstone. He makes the whole structure possible. He is strength and security. He is the one on whom AND IN WHOM the whole building exists. In him the building is bound together—he is the cement. In him the building becomes a temple. In him the Gentiles and the Jews are built together to be God’s dwelling. All union with God and with each other is in Christ. The ones who were excluded from the temple now become the temple—God’s temple. Christ and his followers are the new temple, replacing the physical building in Jerusalem. In Christ we are a holy temple because God dwells in us. We are in Christ—he is our home. And together with Christ we are God’s dwelling place—we are his home.
When we consider the walls and labels that divide us, that become barriers to our peace and unity with each other, we must also consider what Paul has said about the wall of separation between the Jew and the Gentile—the wall that has been destroyed by Christ.
In his letter to the Galatians St. Paul explains that in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, but all are one—in Christ Jesus. And that’s the key. We are one in Christ Jesus. We are one, united with him, part of his one body, when we are in Christ Jesus. When he is the center, when he is the vine. When we confess that Jesus Christ and his life, death and resurrection are the focus of our life together. When we hold fast to the uniqueness of Jesus as the way to salvation. When we hold forth the Creeds of our church—because they emphasize Christ. Jesus is the main subject and the center point of our creeds. Jesus Christ is the cornerstone. With Jesus as our center, as our foundation, as our cornerstone we are called to live in peace and unity. God in the flesh walked among us, died for us, was raised for us, intercedes for us, in order for us to be reconciled with God and with each other—in Christ. He is our peace. He is our unity. He is our reconciliation.
But when we forget Christ, when we fail to affirm the uniqueness and primacy of Christ, when he is marginalized and discounted, there is no hope of unity and peace.
Jesus is Lord.
Amen.
July 12 Proper 10
Good morning!! Today I’m going to talk about geography, kind of a strange subject for a sermon. And, no, there’s not going to be a test. And it’s not about mountains and rivers, topography. It’s not about states and capitals. It’s a bit more personal than all that—our personal geography.
When someone asks where you are from, what do you say? For many that’s pretty simple, you state where you grew up perhaps. Or if you are traveling you might give the name of your home city or state. When people ask me where I’m from, it’s a little more difficult. It depends on the conversation, who I’m talking to, and discerning whether they want the long answer or the short answer. The somewhat long answer is that I lived in 8 states before I was 10 years old—my dad was a civil engineer in heavy construction and we went where the jobs were: dams, bridges, pipelines and such. Then we moved to Littleton, Colorado, and I spent the remainder of my childhood there. My young adult years were also spent in Colorado, and in 1993 Larry and I moved to Illinois—his home.
The short answer to the question as to where I’m from would be that I grew up in Colorado and moved to Illinois in ’93.
When someone asks you where you live, present tense, it’s easy to get pretty specific isn’t it? Larry and I live at 12806 Mallard Dr., Whittington, Franklin County IL, USA.
When we think about these questions, we do think in terms of geography, don’t we. Physical locations. But I’d like to challenge you to think differently.
Our Epistle today is the opening sentences of St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians—one of my favorite books. It’s in the standard style and form of a 1st century letter. When we write formal letters—probably almost a lost art with the advent of email and text messages, we start by greeting the recipient: Dear so and so, And we end with a salutation and our name, right? They did it a bit differently, starting by naming the author of the letter, in this case Paul who further identifies himself as an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. And then he notes the recipients: To the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus. Did you hear that? To the saints who are in Ephesus, a geographical location are also in Christ Jesus. In Ephesus and in Jesus.
The phrase “in Christ” is dominant throughout the 6 chapters that make up the letter to the Ephesians. “In Christ” or “in Him” or “in whom” appear over 30 times in this letter, and a third of the occurrences are in the first 14 verses, today’s lessons. We are to live both in a specific place, and in Christ. The Christian faith is to be such a union with the Lord that we actually live in him—he is our home. It is in him that we live and move and have our being. “To live in Christ is to be determined by him. He shapes who we are” (Snodgrass, Klyne. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p. 42). This idea will have implications for our salvation and for our lives in our churches and in our world.
Paul’s letter continues with a doxology, blessing and praising God for all he has done for Jews, for Gentiles, for us. The language is effusive and majestic, building and developing, setting the tone for the rest of the letter. There are so many riches and so much deepness in these 14 verses—just 2 sentences in the original Greek, that it’s impossible to mine the depths in a brief sermon. But since I started with geography, with the idea of being in Christ, we’ll look at a few of the benefits that come with being in Christ.
First of all, God blessed us in Christ to be holy. We are incorporated into the mystical body of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in Christ, in his body and that’s where we reside. If we live in Christ, that defines us and our lives become more and more determined by the character of Christ. He is our environment. When we sin, we forget where we live. We forget our home—we forget who we are and whose we are. When we live in Christ we are empowered by his spirit, and we live progressively more holy and blameless lives. We tend to focus on Christ being in us, inviting God into our hearts, but the idea of living in Christ is much greater. “If we emphasize only that Christ is in us, we define reality, and Christ is about one inch tall. If we realize we are in Christ, he determines reality and encompasses all that we are” (ibid p.63).
We were chosen in Christ, destined and elected. God chose us first. The initiative is God’s, based on grace. We were destined by God for relationship with him, to be his children. This doesn’t remove individual responsibility, but our actions and decision for Christ are a response to his action towards us. The focus is on God and his grace. And our election is always in and through Christ. The question is not whether one is elect, but whether one is in Christ.
In Christ we are redeemed—we are set free from the bondage of sin through the payment of a price—the blood if Christ. Through Jesus’ sacrificial death he paid for our sins once and for all. In Christ we receive forgiveness. We no longer live under the bondage and tyranny of sin, but because we have been forgiven we live under the Lordship of Christ—we live in Christ. And all this is because of the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. In Christ we are inundated with God’s grace, God’s unbelievable and undeserved acceptance of us. The initiative is God’s and it is in and through Christ Jesus. It is grace upon grace, to the praise of his glorious and amazing and abundant grace.
In Christ we have the revelation of God’s will. In Christ, through the gospel, God’s purpose and work are revealed. The hidden is revealed. The mystery is made known. And God will complete his plan of salvation. The whole universe will be reconciled in Christ as Lord of all. The fulfillment of God’s purposes began with Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, and in the fullness of time all things will be united and reconciled in Christ.
In Christ we are marked with the seal of the Holy Spirit. When we become Christians we receive the Spirit as a deposit or guarantee of our life with God—marked as God’s own forever. The Holy Spirit is the payment of a deposit on our lives, a guarantee that our inheritance of life with God will be delivered.
To summarize, “God blessed us, chose us from eternity, graced us, planned for us, sent Christ for us, revealed to us, will sum up all things in Christ in whom we have a part, gave us the Spirit as a guarantee, and will redeem us as his own people” (ibid 66-7). And all of this is in and through Christ.
For Paul, salvation is not about asking Jesus into your heart so you can go to heaven. It’s about faith in Jesus, but a faith that results in being united with Christ, living in Christ. It’s not about believing facts, about reciting formula for salvation, but about being joined to Christ. Once again, it is in him that we live and move and have our being. He is our home.
When we live in Christ, wrong allegiances and tyrannies lose their power. Jesus is our Lord, establishing our very being. It’s been said that being a Christians is about Being, not Doing. It’s about being determined by our life in Christ. Our geography is that we live in Christ, and are part of Christ. We are not simply individuals, but incorporated into Christ Jesus and will more and more act in accord with who he is. All that we do, good and bad, involves Christ and we are transformed into his likeness. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul says that “he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to completion” (1:6).
Where do you live? What is your geography? What does it means for you to live in ______________ and in Christ. What’s the significance for ________ that you live in Christ? What’s the significance for Jesus Christ that you live in _________? We need to reconcile the place that we live and the Christ in whom we live. How are you called to live in Christ and in ___________? Where do you live?
When someone asks where you are from, what do you say? For many that’s pretty simple, you state where you grew up perhaps. Or if you are traveling you might give the name of your home city or state. When people ask me where I’m from, it’s a little more difficult. It depends on the conversation, who I’m talking to, and discerning whether they want the long answer or the short answer. The somewhat long answer is that I lived in 8 states before I was 10 years old—my dad was a civil engineer in heavy construction and we went where the jobs were: dams, bridges, pipelines and such. Then we moved to Littleton, Colorado, and I spent the remainder of my childhood there. My young adult years were also spent in Colorado, and in 1993 Larry and I moved to Illinois—his home.
The short answer to the question as to where I’m from would be that I grew up in Colorado and moved to Illinois in ’93.
When someone asks you where you live, present tense, it’s easy to get pretty specific isn’t it? Larry and I live at 12806 Mallard Dr., Whittington, Franklin County IL, USA.
When we think about these questions, we do think in terms of geography, don’t we. Physical locations. But I’d like to challenge you to think differently.
Our Epistle today is the opening sentences of St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians—one of my favorite books. It’s in the standard style and form of a 1st century letter. When we write formal letters—probably almost a lost art with the advent of email and text messages, we start by greeting the recipient: Dear so and so, And we end with a salutation and our name, right? They did it a bit differently, starting by naming the author of the letter, in this case Paul who further identifies himself as an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. And then he notes the recipients: To the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus. Did you hear that? To the saints who are in Ephesus, a geographical location are also in Christ Jesus. In Ephesus and in Jesus.
The phrase “in Christ” is dominant throughout the 6 chapters that make up the letter to the Ephesians. “In Christ” or “in Him” or “in whom” appear over 30 times in this letter, and a third of the occurrences are in the first 14 verses, today’s lessons. We are to live both in a specific place, and in Christ. The Christian faith is to be such a union with the Lord that we actually live in him—he is our home. It is in him that we live and move and have our being. “To live in Christ is to be determined by him. He shapes who we are” (Snodgrass, Klyne. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p. 42). This idea will have implications for our salvation and for our lives in our churches and in our world.
Paul’s letter continues with a doxology, blessing and praising God for all he has done for Jews, for Gentiles, for us. The language is effusive and majestic, building and developing, setting the tone for the rest of the letter. There are so many riches and so much deepness in these 14 verses—just 2 sentences in the original Greek, that it’s impossible to mine the depths in a brief sermon. But since I started with geography, with the idea of being in Christ, we’ll look at a few of the benefits that come with being in Christ.
First of all, God blessed us in Christ to be holy. We are incorporated into the mystical body of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in Christ, in his body and that’s where we reside. If we live in Christ, that defines us and our lives become more and more determined by the character of Christ. He is our environment. When we sin, we forget where we live. We forget our home—we forget who we are and whose we are. When we live in Christ we are empowered by his spirit, and we live progressively more holy and blameless lives. We tend to focus on Christ being in us, inviting God into our hearts, but the idea of living in Christ is much greater. “If we emphasize only that Christ is in us, we define reality, and Christ is about one inch tall. If we realize we are in Christ, he determines reality and encompasses all that we are” (ibid p.63).
We were chosen in Christ, destined and elected. God chose us first. The initiative is God’s, based on grace. We were destined by God for relationship with him, to be his children. This doesn’t remove individual responsibility, but our actions and decision for Christ are a response to his action towards us. The focus is on God and his grace. And our election is always in and through Christ. The question is not whether one is elect, but whether one is in Christ.
In Christ we are redeemed—we are set free from the bondage of sin through the payment of a price—the blood if Christ. Through Jesus’ sacrificial death he paid for our sins once and for all. In Christ we receive forgiveness. We no longer live under the bondage and tyranny of sin, but because we have been forgiven we live under the Lordship of Christ—we live in Christ. And all this is because of the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. In Christ we are inundated with God’s grace, God’s unbelievable and undeserved acceptance of us. The initiative is God’s and it is in and through Christ Jesus. It is grace upon grace, to the praise of his glorious and amazing and abundant grace.
In Christ we have the revelation of God’s will. In Christ, through the gospel, God’s purpose and work are revealed. The hidden is revealed. The mystery is made known. And God will complete his plan of salvation. The whole universe will be reconciled in Christ as Lord of all. The fulfillment of God’s purposes began with Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, and in the fullness of time all things will be united and reconciled in Christ.
In Christ we are marked with the seal of the Holy Spirit. When we become Christians we receive the Spirit as a deposit or guarantee of our life with God—marked as God’s own forever. The Holy Spirit is the payment of a deposit on our lives, a guarantee that our inheritance of life with God will be delivered.
To summarize, “God blessed us, chose us from eternity, graced us, planned for us, sent Christ for us, revealed to us, will sum up all things in Christ in whom we have a part, gave us the Spirit as a guarantee, and will redeem us as his own people” (ibid 66-7). And all of this is in and through Christ.
For Paul, salvation is not about asking Jesus into your heart so you can go to heaven. It’s about faith in Jesus, but a faith that results in being united with Christ, living in Christ. It’s not about believing facts, about reciting formula for salvation, but about being joined to Christ. Once again, it is in him that we live and move and have our being. He is our home.
When we live in Christ, wrong allegiances and tyrannies lose their power. Jesus is our Lord, establishing our very being. It’s been said that being a Christians is about Being, not Doing. It’s about being determined by our life in Christ. Our geography is that we live in Christ, and are part of Christ. We are not simply individuals, but incorporated into Christ Jesus and will more and more act in accord with who he is. All that we do, good and bad, involves Christ and we are transformed into his likeness. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul says that “he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to completion” (1:6).
Where do you live? What is your geography? What does it means for you to live in ______________ and in Christ. What’s the significance for ________ that you live in Christ? What’s the significance for Jesus Christ that you live in _________? We need to reconcile the place that we live and the Christ in whom we live. How are you called to live in Christ and in ___________? Where do you live?
Saturday, June 6, 2009
B. Pentecost
(St. Mark's and St. James')
When we get stressed and feel tense, our breathing becomes quick and shallow. One of the easiest ways to de-stress is to slow down and breathe. Inhale slowly, deeply, steadily, paying attention to the breath, feeling your abdomen, rib cage and chest expand. Then exhale slowly, completely.
I feel better already. ;-)
Focusing on our God-given breath is also a very basic way to meditate. We can sit quietly, focusing on our breath that comes from the One in whom we live and move and have our being. Short prayers can be added to the inhale and exhale, like little mantras. Often when I wake up in the middle of the night focusing on breath prayer helps me get back to sleep—otherwise sometimes my mind starts going off in all directions. So I’ll inwardly say “You are my breath,” on the inhale, and “you are my rest” on the exhale.
People who use the Jesus Prayer contemplatively also tie it into the breathing cycle. For me, it’s “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God” on the inhale and “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” on the exhale. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner.
Have you ever heard the phrase “Caesar’s Breath?” It’s kind of a scientific term, a teaching tool. It’s the idea that when Augustus Caesar was murdered by Brutus, he released an enormous number of molecules in his last breath, mostly nitrogen and carbon dioxide. Someone with perhaps a lot of time on his hand calculated that the number of molecules is .05 X 6 X 10 to the 23rd. 10 to the 23rd alone is a ridiculous number, a 10 with 22 zeros following it.
So what happened to all of these molecules? Some would have been absorbed by plants, and some by animals, and some by water, and the rest would float around the earth so that, with every breath we take, we inhale at least one or two molecules that came from Caesar’s last breath.
As we gather here today, you and I are exchanging molecules as we breathe.
Now think of our Gospel. “Jesus breathed on them and said, ‘receive the Holy Spirit.’” Jesus breathed on them. While we may be taking in Caesar’s breath, it’s just as likely that we are inhaling molecules from Jesus’ breath. And by his breath, we share in his life.
Because In the scriptures, breath is life. Think about Genesis chapter 2:
The LORD God formed a man's body from the dust of the ground and breathed into it the breath of life. And the man became a living person (v.7).
God breathed into it the breath of life.
And how about that strange story in Ezekiel—well much of Ezekiel is strange, but the story about the dry bones in the desert.
So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived . . . (37:7-10).
Breath is life. And Jesus breathes on the disciples and they receive his life in the form of the Holy Spirit. Christ’s breath, the breath he breathed on the disciples that day, is still circulating, still with us. And it is certainly greater, more powerful, more life-giving by far than Caesar’s breath. It was the very breath of God incarnate.
So just how does this event compare with the coming of the Holy Spirit in the 2nd chapter of Acts, our first lesson today? After all, our Gospel reading takes place on the night of the Resurrection, when the disciples are locked up in fear and Jesus comes among them. It’s the story of when Thomas wasn’t there, and a week later Thomas saw Jesus, his scars, his side, his hands, his feet, and said, “My lord and my God.” Surely it was the Spirit who enabled him to say that, even though he hadn’t been present that first night. But with Christ’s breath, the power of the Spirit was unleashed, perhaps like the act of conception, and the Birth, the ultimate gift, was given 50 days later, after Jesus had ascended to the Father.
In both cases, in the quiet breath of Jesus, and the powerful theophany of the Spirit in Acts, his disciples were entrusted with a mission. They are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world.
And as we have received the Holy Spirit at our baptisms, we too are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world. We have received the power of the Holy Spirit. The same power that transformed fearful, doubting, ordinary men into fearless, confident, extraordinary apostles and missionaries is available to us. The power to transform the world. The life-giving Spirit, the very breath of God is our breath.
Discipleship is not just about believing in Jesus, though that of course must be part of it. It’s also about the indwelling of Jesus the Son, through the Holy Spirit. By the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us, and we in him. “To receive Christ is to obtain the Sprit; to be filled by the Holy Spirit is to experience the living presence of Jesus Christ within. Christian transformation is Christ at work within us, bringing about his glory in our Spirit-led renewal” (Burge, Gary M. The NIV Application Commentary: John, Zondervan, p. 575).
In the book of Acts the giving of the Spirit seems to be about power and the outward manifestations of he Spirit’s presence, but in the Gospel that’s not the main point. In John the emphasis is on relationships, and especially the relationship Jesus wants to have with his disciples, both then and now. This relationship has its foundations in the work of the Holy Spirit. “Christian discipleship is a union with Jesus Christ that empowers and transforms, that is mystical, that exceeds our rational abilities to understand and quantify. To make it less is to miss the work that Jesus tried to accomplish with his followers on the first Easter” (ibid, 576).
One of my favorite personal prayers, especially when settling down to pray, will probably have new meaning now, remembering that with my breath I am breathing in elements of Jesus’ breath. It goes like this: “Lord, you are closer to me than my own breath. May each breath that I take deepen my awareness of your presence.”
The Holy Spirit is Christ’s presence within us, empowering us, and especially enabling us to have a relationship with both the Father and the Son.
I also love some of our hymns that focus on the work of the Spirit, and especially this one:
1. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
fill me with life anew,
that I may love what thou dost love,
and do what thou wouldst do.
2. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
until my heart is pure,
until with thee I will one will,
to do and to endure.
3. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
till I am wholly thine,
till all this earthly part of me
glows with thy fire divine.
When we get stressed and feel tense, our breathing becomes quick and shallow. One of the easiest ways to de-stress is to slow down and breathe. Inhale slowly, deeply, steadily, paying attention to the breath, feeling your abdomen, rib cage and chest expand. Then exhale slowly, completely.
I feel better already. ;-)
Focusing on our God-given breath is also a very basic way to meditate. We can sit quietly, focusing on our breath that comes from the One in whom we live and move and have our being. Short prayers can be added to the inhale and exhale, like little mantras. Often when I wake up in the middle of the night focusing on breath prayer helps me get back to sleep—otherwise sometimes my mind starts going off in all directions. So I’ll inwardly say “You are my breath,” on the inhale, and “you are my rest” on the exhale.
People who use the Jesus Prayer contemplatively also tie it into the breathing cycle. For me, it’s “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God” on the inhale and “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” on the exhale. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner.
Have you ever heard the phrase “Caesar’s Breath?” It’s kind of a scientific term, a teaching tool. It’s the idea that when Augustus Caesar was murdered by Brutus, he released an enormous number of molecules in his last breath, mostly nitrogen and carbon dioxide. Someone with perhaps a lot of time on his hand calculated that the number of molecules is .05 X 6 X 10 to the 23rd. 10 to the 23rd alone is a ridiculous number, a 10 with 22 zeros following it.
So what happened to all of these molecules? Some would have been absorbed by plants, and some by animals, and some by water, and the rest would float around the earth so that, with every breath we take, we inhale at least one or two molecules that came from Caesar’s last breath.
As we gather here today, you and I are exchanging molecules as we breathe.
Now think of our Gospel. “Jesus breathed on them and said, ‘receive the Holy Spirit.’” Jesus breathed on them. While we may be taking in Caesar’s breath, it’s just as likely that we are inhaling molecules from Jesus’ breath. And by his breath, we share in his life.
Because In the scriptures, breath is life. Think about Genesis chapter 2:
The LORD God formed a man's body from the dust of the ground and breathed into it the breath of life. And the man became a living person (v.7).
God breathed into it the breath of life.
And how about that strange story in Ezekiel—well much of Ezekiel is strange, but the story about the dry bones in the desert.
So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived . . . (37:7-10).
Breath is life. And Jesus breathes on the disciples and they receive his life in the form of the Holy Spirit. Christ’s breath, the breath he breathed on the disciples that day, is still circulating, still with us. And it is certainly greater, more powerful, more life-giving by far than Caesar’s breath. It was the very breath of God incarnate.
So just how does this event compare with the coming of the Holy Spirit in the 2nd chapter of Acts, our first lesson today? After all, our Gospel reading takes place on the night of the Resurrection, when the disciples are locked up in fear and Jesus comes among them. It’s the story of when Thomas wasn’t there, and a week later Thomas saw Jesus, his scars, his side, his hands, his feet, and said, “My lord and my God.” Surely it was the Spirit who enabled him to say that, even though he hadn’t been present that first night. But with Christ’s breath, the power of the Spirit was unleashed, perhaps like the act of conception, and the Birth, the ultimate gift, was given 50 days later, after Jesus had ascended to the Father.
In both cases, in the quiet breath of Jesus, and the powerful theophany of the Spirit in Acts, his disciples were entrusted with a mission. They are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world.
And as we have received the Holy Spirit at our baptisms, we too are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world. We have received the power of the Holy Spirit. The same power that transformed fearful, doubting, ordinary men into fearless, confident, extraordinary apostles and missionaries is available to us. The power to transform the world. The life-giving Spirit, the very breath of God is our breath.
Discipleship is not just about believing in Jesus, though that of course must be part of it. It’s also about the indwelling of Jesus the Son, through the Holy Spirit. By the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us, and we in him. “To receive Christ is to obtain the Sprit; to be filled by the Holy Spirit is to experience the living presence of Jesus Christ within. Christian transformation is Christ at work within us, bringing about his glory in our Spirit-led renewal” (Burge, Gary M. The NIV Application Commentary: John, Zondervan, p. 575).
In the book of Acts the giving of the Spirit seems to be about power and the outward manifestations of he Spirit’s presence, but in the Gospel that’s not the main point. In John the emphasis is on relationships, and especially the relationship Jesus wants to have with his disciples, both then and now. This relationship has its foundations in the work of the Holy Spirit. “Christian discipleship is a union with Jesus Christ that empowers and transforms, that is mystical, that exceeds our rational abilities to understand and quantify. To make it less is to miss the work that Jesus tried to accomplish with his followers on the first Easter” (ibid, 576).
One of my favorite personal prayers, especially when settling down to pray, will probably have new meaning now, remembering that with my breath I am breathing in elements of Jesus’ breath. It goes like this: “Lord, you are closer to me than my own breath. May each breath that I take deepen my awareness of your presence.”
The Holy Spirit is Christ’s presence within us, empowering us, and especially enabling us to have a relationship with both the Father and the Son.
I also love some of our hymns that focus on the work of the Spirit, and especially this one:
1. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
fill me with life anew,
that I may love what thou dost love,
and do what thou wouldst do.
2. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
until my heart is pure,
until with thee I will one will,
to do and to endure.
3. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
till I am wholly thine,
till all this earthly part of me
glows with thy fire divine.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
7 Easter (Sunday after Ascension)
(St. Stephen's)
I don’t know if it’s just me, but it seems like the older I get, the faster time goes. Anybody else feel the same way? It certainly seems like this year is simply flying!! It’s hard to believe that it’s Memorial Weekend—though it is a bit early, isn’t it? And can you believe that it’s been 6 weeks since Easter!! And that in another week it will be June? And schools will be out for the lazy hazy days of summer . . . and I’m sure for many of us the summer will fly by also.
So today I’d like to slow things down, turn back the calendar, go back in time to last Thursday. The Feast of the Ascension. This is one of the most forgotten, most overlooked major feast day in the Episcopal Calendar. Along with Christmas and Easter, major feast days include Epiphany, Pentecost, and All Saints Day. And of course Ascension Day. With apologies to those of you who celebrated Ascension last Wednesday with Fr. Swan and Fr. Tim, I’d like to take a closer look at the Ascension. After all, today is both the 7th Sunday after Easter—and the Sunday After Ascension Day.
The Ascension is the only Major feast that is never, ever celebrated on a Sunday—because it’s always 40 days after Easter, 10 days before Pentecost. It’s always on a Thursday. And while most of us can draw on special memories associated with many of the other feast days, maybe even besides Christmas and Easter, most of us probably don’t have great memories or experiences related to the Ascension of our Lord.
So I’ll share mine with you. Ascension Day is the day in 2003 that my father died. He hadn’t been sick really, and he was only 67, planning on a nice retirement. He and my step mom had just sold their house in California and were building one in Colorado for their retirement—lower cost of living. But on the day before Ascension Day, early in the morning, my step mom called me at work—I worked in the purchasing office of a big factory in Centralia. She said my dad had had emergency surgery the day before due to a ruptured colon. Asked her if I needed to come, and she said, “I can’t tell you that.” She was on her way to the hospital, and I asked her to call me when she got an update on his condition. She said, “I hope he knows me.” Well, he didn’t. He was basically comatose, the peritonitis had spread too far. And I caught the next plane I could manage out of St. Louis. She told Dad I was coming—and to this day I believe he waited for me. I later found out that his doctor tried to call me to tell me that Dad wouldn’t last that long. And if Dad’s heart failed they wouldn’t resuscitate him. As it was, he was on a respirator. But I got to California, rented a car, and drove to Santa Rosa. I got to his room about midnight, and at first it seemed his pulse improved when I got there . . . like I said, I know he waited for me. But within a couple hours his heart beat became more irregular, and finally fluttered it’s last. Like a butterfly fluttering off. Doris, my stepmom, got there a little bit later, and we spent some final time with Dad before going to their home.
By the time we got there I had been up for over 24 hours, and of course needed to sleep a little in order to face what was ahead. When I got up, Doris had read the Forward Day by Day devotional—and pointed out that it was Ascension Day. And that seemed so right, so comforting. Dad’s spirit had also ascended—and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will see him again. I miss him so much . . . but I know we will have more days together in the future than we did in the past. And I always link the anniversary of my dad’s death more with Ascension than with the actual date—May 29th.
So, for me, the promise of the resurrection is one of the main promises of the Ascension. In fact, the early church linked the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus so closely together that it seems that they should be hyphenated. “The resurrection-and-ascension.” When it comes to Jesus, you can’t have one without the other. The Nicene Creed states, “On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” And the Apostles Creed is similar: “On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” In our creeds, all that separate the resurrection and the ascension is a dot, a period. No forty days, no resurrection appearances, just a dot.
Paul talks about the resurrection-ascension in many places. In Romans chapter 6 he says 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
And in 1 Corinthians 15: 20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruit of those who have died. 21 For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; 22 for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ.
The resurrection of Jesus is the guarantee, the down payment, the deposit on our future resurrections. We will be united with Christ and with our loved ones who have died “in Christ,” and with all the saints and angels and archangels!!
There are a couple other promises that come with the Ascension of our Lord. After his ascension he was and is now seated at the right hand of the Father to reign and to rule over all the earth—we don’t see it clearly now but we will, we will. He is King of kings, Lord of lords, and he reigns over all creation. Our Psalm this morning spoke to this: The Lord Most High is to be feared, he is the great King over all the earth . . . God has gone up with a shout, sing praises to God, sing praises. For God is King of all the earth, he reigns over the nations and sits upon his holy throne. All the rulers of the earth belong to God, and he is highly exalted.
And Jesus is at the Right Hand of the Father, the place of power and prominence, interceding on our behalf. Romans 8:34 says “… It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.” There’s nothing and no one who can separate us from the love of Christ, the one who died, who was raised, who is at the right had of God, who intercedes for us!
Finally, this look back at the Ascension contains a look ahead to next week. To the promise of Pentecost. The promise of the Holy Spirit. In John’s gospel, Jesus promises to send the Holy Spirit, the Advocate.
15:6 "When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf.
16:7 Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.
And one of the lessons from Ascension is from Acts chapter 1:
3 After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4 While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. "This," he said, "is what you have heard from me; 5 for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now." 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" 7 He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
The ascension of our Lord.
The Resurrection-and-Ascension of our Jesus includes at least three promises. Three that we’ve looked at today. The promise of our future resurrection. The promise of Christ’s reign and rule at God’s right hand where he intercedes on our behalf. The promise of the Holy Spirit. Check back next week and I expect that Fr. Tim will tell you more about this third promise, the promise of the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but it seems like the older I get, the faster time goes. Anybody else feel the same way? It certainly seems like this year is simply flying!! It’s hard to believe that it’s Memorial Weekend—though it is a bit early, isn’t it? And can you believe that it’s been 6 weeks since Easter!! And that in another week it will be June? And schools will be out for the lazy hazy days of summer . . . and I’m sure for many of us the summer will fly by also.
So today I’d like to slow things down, turn back the calendar, go back in time to last Thursday. The Feast of the Ascension. This is one of the most forgotten, most overlooked major feast day in the Episcopal Calendar. Along with Christmas and Easter, major feast days include Epiphany, Pentecost, and All Saints Day. And of course Ascension Day. With apologies to those of you who celebrated Ascension last Wednesday with Fr. Swan and Fr. Tim, I’d like to take a closer look at the Ascension. After all, today is both the 7th Sunday after Easter—and the Sunday After Ascension Day.
The Ascension is the only Major feast that is never, ever celebrated on a Sunday—because it’s always 40 days after Easter, 10 days before Pentecost. It’s always on a Thursday. And while most of us can draw on special memories associated with many of the other feast days, maybe even besides Christmas and Easter, most of us probably don’t have great memories or experiences related to the Ascension of our Lord.
So I’ll share mine with you. Ascension Day is the day in 2003 that my father died. He hadn’t been sick really, and he was only 67, planning on a nice retirement. He and my step mom had just sold their house in California and were building one in Colorado for their retirement—lower cost of living. But on the day before Ascension Day, early in the morning, my step mom called me at work—I worked in the purchasing office of a big factory in Centralia. She said my dad had had emergency surgery the day before due to a ruptured colon. Asked her if I needed to come, and she said, “I can’t tell you that.” She was on her way to the hospital, and I asked her to call me when she got an update on his condition. She said, “I hope he knows me.” Well, he didn’t. He was basically comatose, the peritonitis had spread too far. And I caught the next plane I could manage out of St. Louis. She told Dad I was coming—and to this day I believe he waited for me. I later found out that his doctor tried to call me to tell me that Dad wouldn’t last that long. And if Dad’s heart failed they wouldn’t resuscitate him. As it was, he was on a respirator. But I got to California, rented a car, and drove to Santa Rosa. I got to his room about midnight, and at first it seemed his pulse improved when I got there . . . like I said, I know he waited for me. But within a couple hours his heart beat became more irregular, and finally fluttered it’s last. Like a butterfly fluttering off. Doris, my stepmom, got there a little bit later, and we spent some final time with Dad before going to their home.
By the time we got there I had been up for over 24 hours, and of course needed to sleep a little in order to face what was ahead. When I got up, Doris had read the Forward Day by Day devotional—and pointed out that it was Ascension Day. And that seemed so right, so comforting. Dad’s spirit had also ascended—and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will see him again. I miss him so much . . . but I know we will have more days together in the future than we did in the past. And I always link the anniversary of my dad’s death more with Ascension than with the actual date—May 29th.
So, for me, the promise of the resurrection is one of the main promises of the Ascension. In fact, the early church linked the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus so closely together that it seems that they should be hyphenated. “The resurrection-and-ascension.” When it comes to Jesus, you can’t have one without the other. The Nicene Creed states, “On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” And the Apostles Creed is similar: “On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” In our creeds, all that separate the resurrection and the ascension is a dot, a period. No forty days, no resurrection appearances, just a dot.
Paul talks about the resurrection-ascension in many places. In Romans chapter 6 he says 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
And in 1 Corinthians 15: 20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruit of those who have died. 21 For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; 22 for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ.
The resurrection of Jesus is the guarantee, the down payment, the deposit on our future resurrections. We will be united with Christ and with our loved ones who have died “in Christ,” and with all the saints and angels and archangels!!
There are a couple other promises that come with the Ascension of our Lord. After his ascension he was and is now seated at the right hand of the Father to reign and to rule over all the earth—we don’t see it clearly now but we will, we will. He is King of kings, Lord of lords, and he reigns over all creation. Our Psalm this morning spoke to this: The Lord Most High is to be feared, he is the great King over all the earth . . . God has gone up with a shout, sing praises to God, sing praises. For God is King of all the earth, he reigns over the nations and sits upon his holy throne. All the rulers of the earth belong to God, and he is highly exalted.
And Jesus is at the Right Hand of the Father, the place of power and prominence, interceding on our behalf. Romans 8:34 says “… It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.” There’s nothing and no one who can separate us from the love of Christ, the one who died, who was raised, who is at the right had of God, who intercedes for us!
Finally, this look back at the Ascension contains a look ahead to next week. To the promise of Pentecost. The promise of the Holy Spirit. In John’s gospel, Jesus promises to send the Holy Spirit, the Advocate.
15:6 "When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf.
16:7 Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.
And one of the lessons from Ascension is from Acts chapter 1:
3 After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4 While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. "This," he said, "is what you have heard from me; 5 for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now." 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" 7 He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
The ascension of our Lord.
The Resurrection-and-Ascension of our Jesus includes at least three promises. Three that we’ve looked at today. The promise of our future resurrection. The promise of Christ’s reign and rule at God’s right hand where he intercedes on our behalf. The promise of the Holy Spirit. Check back next week and I expect that Fr. Tim will tell you more about this third promise, the promise of the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
May 3, 2009: Year B, 4 Easter
The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. One of my favorite bits of Hebrew trivia has to do with the 23rd Psalm, the last verse. We read it this morning: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the day of my life.” But the word translated as “follow” actually means “to pursue, to chase.” Surely goodness and mercy shall pursue us all the days of our lives. The hound of heaven—or perhaps the Sheepdog of heaven--is chasing us down with his love and goodness and mercy, and there is nowhere we can go that he doesn’t come bounding after us, willing to lay down his life for us.
Now, when we say with the psalmist that the Lord is our Shepherd, we are declaring who we are, and whose we are. We are saying whose voice we will listen to.
In our Gospel, Jesus said that “his sheep listen to his voice.”
During the Palestinian uprising in the late 1980’s the Israeli army decided to punish a village near Bethlehem for not paying its taxes (which, the village claimed, simply financed their occupation). The officer in command rounded up all of the village animals and placed them in a large barbed wire pen. Later in the week he was approached by a woman who begged him to release her flock, arguing that since her husband was dead, the animals were her only source of livelihood. He pointed to the pen containing hundreds of animals and humorously quipped that it was impossible because he could not find her animals. She asked that if she could in fact separate them herself, would he be wiling to let her take them? He agreed. A soldier opened the gate and the woman’s son produced a small reed flute. He played a simple tune again and again—and soon sheep heads began popping up across the pen. The boy continued his music and walked home, followed by his flock of twenty-five sheep. ( Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John, p. 302).
Middle eastern shepherds are still well known for knowing their sheep. And the motifs of sheep and shepherds are prominent in both the Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament, God is the shepherd of Israel, tending his flock, gathering the lambs in his arm. Both Moses and David were shepherds, along with other righteous prophets and kings. But there were false shepherds, too, both kings and religious leaders. And the culture of Jesus’ day was very much familiar with shepherds and sheep. “In the desert at night sheep were often herded into walled enclosures. . . Such enclosures (still used today by Palestinian shepherds in the Judean desert) had waist-high stone walls topped with thorny branches. Such a pen was entirely for safety so that the sheep would not become prey to wild animals. One small doorway (or opening) in the wall served as the only entrance and exit. The shepherd would either close this area with dry thorn bushes or would himself serve as sentry in the opening (ibid, 289).” And as we heard in the opening story, sheep will recognize their shepherd, either by his voice through word and song, or by his melody. Shepherds are therefore able to lead their own sheep.
False shepherds might threaten the sheep. But the sheep who know the voice of the shepherd will not be led astray. They don’t recognize the voice of the false shepherd, and will instead flee from him. Jesus has the authority to call his sheep because he is God’s shepherd. He is the rightful leader, the true shepherd who goes through the gate, and he has the authority to lead the sheep.
Elsewhere, Jesus says he is the Gate, the watchman, “the sentry, the one through whom access to the sheep can be found. . . He stands in the gate, and any who enter without his permission are not to be trusted (ibid, 290).” This suggests that there are good leaders, leaders who follow him, leaders whom he knows. But there are also bad leaders, illegitimate shepherds, who are thieves and robbers. Perhaps these were false messiahs, of whom there were many in the 1st century, but more likely Jesus is considering the Pharisees.
Since Jesus is the gate, the sheep must enter through him. This is like the verse in John 14, where Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the father but by me.” I am the way. I am the gate. The sheep who know him find food, water, safe pasture. These sheep flourish under the care and protection of their shepherd and have life in abundance.
One of the questions this brings up to us today has to do with Christians and their leaders—not just religious leaders but also the multitude of voices that capture our attention. These voices may sound good, but there are false shepherds. We need to be discerning regarding the voices to which we listen, and the test is whether what they say and do is in agreement with the work and witness of Jesus Christ, because only Jesus is the gate.
I read about a survey where teenagers were asked who they turn to in times of tension, confusion or crisis. Their fathers ranked about 25th on the list and mothers came in at number 11. I know when I had a huge crisis at age 16, I spoke to dozens of friends and even my church youth group leader before I told my parents. In the survey I was talking about, music and personal friends were at the top of the list. These are the voices are teenagers listening to: Friends and Music.
We adults respond to false voices too. What about the prevalence of psychics and new age healers? Or take a look at the bestselling books every week. One of the current top sellers is by Dan Brown: Angels and Demons, which is due out as a movie in the next month or so. Capitalizing on his success with The Da Vinci Code—an entertaining and fast paced mystery that was also theologically heretical, and produced an almost cultic following. One commentator, Gary Burge says, “When people are in crisis, when they are surrounded by the dangers of the desert, they will turn to any shepherd offering a way out (ibid, 303).”
We listen to the voices on our favorite news networks, those that support our politics. We listen to the voices of hope, and the voices of gloom and despair. But our gospel message challenges us to be discerning of the voices we listen to. Who do we follow? What voices do we listen to? Where do we go for comfort, for shelter? We are challenged to measure these voices, these leaders, against the true leadership of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the true shepherd, the one who is the model for other voices. The test of any leader’s credentials is his or her faithfulness to the leadership of Jesus. When we hear a new voice, we need to ask ourselves whether this voices is consistent with that voice of Jesus revealed to us in the scriptures. We need to test these voices against the historic revelation we have of Jesus Christ.
I am the good shepherd, and My sheep will listen to my voice. Amen.
St. James’ McLeansboro 2009
Now, when we say with the psalmist that the Lord is our Shepherd, we are declaring who we are, and whose we are. We are saying whose voice we will listen to.
In our Gospel, Jesus said that “his sheep listen to his voice.”
During the Palestinian uprising in the late 1980’s the Israeli army decided to punish a village near Bethlehem for not paying its taxes (which, the village claimed, simply financed their occupation). The officer in command rounded up all of the village animals and placed them in a large barbed wire pen. Later in the week he was approached by a woman who begged him to release her flock, arguing that since her husband was dead, the animals were her only source of livelihood. He pointed to the pen containing hundreds of animals and humorously quipped that it was impossible because he could not find her animals. She asked that if she could in fact separate them herself, would he be wiling to let her take them? He agreed. A soldier opened the gate and the woman’s son produced a small reed flute. He played a simple tune again and again—and soon sheep heads began popping up across the pen. The boy continued his music and walked home, followed by his flock of twenty-five sheep. ( Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John, p. 302).
Middle eastern shepherds are still well known for knowing their sheep. And the motifs of sheep and shepherds are prominent in both the Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament, God is the shepherd of Israel, tending his flock, gathering the lambs in his arm. Both Moses and David were shepherds, along with other righteous prophets and kings. But there were false shepherds, too, both kings and religious leaders. And the culture of Jesus’ day was very much familiar with shepherds and sheep. “In the desert at night sheep were often herded into walled enclosures. . . Such enclosures (still used today by Palestinian shepherds in the Judean desert) had waist-high stone walls topped with thorny branches. Such a pen was entirely for safety so that the sheep would not become prey to wild animals. One small doorway (or opening) in the wall served as the only entrance and exit. The shepherd would either close this area with dry thorn bushes or would himself serve as sentry in the opening (ibid, 289).” And as we heard in the opening story, sheep will recognize their shepherd, either by his voice through word and song, or by his melody. Shepherds are therefore able to lead their own sheep.
False shepherds might threaten the sheep. But the sheep who know the voice of the shepherd will not be led astray. They don’t recognize the voice of the false shepherd, and will instead flee from him. Jesus has the authority to call his sheep because he is God’s shepherd. He is the rightful leader, the true shepherd who goes through the gate, and he has the authority to lead the sheep.
Elsewhere, Jesus says he is the Gate, the watchman, “the sentry, the one through whom access to the sheep can be found. . . He stands in the gate, and any who enter without his permission are not to be trusted (ibid, 290).” This suggests that there are good leaders, leaders who follow him, leaders whom he knows. But there are also bad leaders, illegitimate shepherds, who are thieves and robbers. Perhaps these were false messiahs, of whom there were many in the 1st century, but more likely Jesus is considering the Pharisees.
Since Jesus is the gate, the sheep must enter through him. This is like the verse in John 14, where Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the father but by me.” I am the way. I am the gate. The sheep who know him find food, water, safe pasture. These sheep flourish under the care and protection of their shepherd and have life in abundance.
One of the questions this brings up to us today has to do with Christians and their leaders—not just religious leaders but also the multitude of voices that capture our attention. These voices may sound good, but there are false shepherds. We need to be discerning regarding the voices to which we listen, and the test is whether what they say and do is in agreement with the work and witness of Jesus Christ, because only Jesus is the gate.
I read about a survey where teenagers were asked who they turn to in times of tension, confusion or crisis. Their fathers ranked about 25th on the list and mothers came in at number 11. I know when I had a huge crisis at age 16, I spoke to dozens of friends and even my church youth group leader before I told my parents. In the survey I was talking about, music and personal friends were at the top of the list. These are the voices are teenagers listening to: Friends and Music.
We adults respond to false voices too. What about the prevalence of psychics and new age healers? Or take a look at the bestselling books every week. One of the current top sellers is by Dan Brown: Angels and Demons, which is due out as a movie in the next month or so. Capitalizing on his success with The Da Vinci Code—an entertaining and fast paced mystery that was also theologically heretical, and produced an almost cultic following. One commentator, Gary Burge says, “When people are in crisis, when they are surrounded by the dangers of the desert, they will turn to any shepherd offering a way out (ibid, 303).”
We listen to the voices on our favorite news networks, those that support our politics. We listen to the voices of hope, and the voices of gloom and despair. But our gospel message challenges us to be discerning of the voices we listen to. Who do we follow? What voices do we listen to? Where do we go for comfort, for shelter? We are challenged to measure these voices, these leaders, against the true leadership of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the true shepherd, the one who is the model for other voices. The test of any leader’s credentials is his or her faithfulness to the leadership of Jesus. When we hear a new voice, we need to ask ourselves whether this voices is consistent with that voice of Jesus revealed to us in the scriptures. We need to test these voices against the historic revelation we have of Jesus Christ.
I am the good shepherd, and My sheep will listen to my voice. Amen.
St. James’ McLeansboro 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
3 Easter B
St. James Marion
As a whole, we Americans struggle with our faith. We wrestle with it, trying to make sense of how our faith impacts our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. George Barna, the founder of a research group dedicated to studying the role of faith and culture along with actual beliefs and behavior, recently said
“Most Americans, even those who say they are Christian, have doubts about the intrusion of the supernatural into the natural world. Hollywood has made evil accessible and tame, making Satan and demons less worrisome than the Bible suggests they really are. It’s hard for achievement-driven, self-reliant, independent people to believe that their lives can be impacted by unseen forces. At the same time, through sheer force of repetition, many Americans intellectually accept some ideas – such as the fact that you either side with God or Satan, there’s no in-between – that do not get translated into practice.”
Barna also noted that Christians tend to be open to co-existence with other faiths. “Most people understand that America’s religious life is diverse,” . . . . “A majority of Christians are generally open to maintaining relationships with people of other faiths, and most are not predisposed to judging people of different faiths, such as Mormons or Wiccans. But that open-mindedness is sometimes due to their limited knowledge about the principles of their own faith and ignorance about other faiths as it is to a purposeful acceptance of other faiths.”
(http://www.barna.org/barna-update/article/12-faithspirituality/260-most-american-christians-do-not-believe-that-satan-or-the-holy-spirit-exis_
In surveying self-described Christians last year, The Barna Group found that 78% of these Christians believed in a God who is the “all-powerful, all-knowing Creator of the universe who rules the world today.” The remainder of these Christians, nearly a quarter of those surveyed, had other understandings of God, ideas inconsistent with the Bible (ibid).
When asked about the divinity and perfection of Jesus Christ, nearly 40% didn’t agree with this, believing that Jesus sinned during his life on earth. This is also inconsistent with historical and biblical teaching (ibid).
And this brings me to what is called the “Scandal of Particularity.” The scandal of particularity is basically the scandal of Jesus, the “difficulty of regarding one single individual man as being the savior of all men” (http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/scandal_of_particularity). It’s the problem of the uniqueness, divinity, and perfection of Jesus. The scandal is over the cornerstone that Peter talks about in our Acts lesson, the cornerstone that is a stumbling block for the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks according to Paul (1 Cor 1:23)—and to much of our world. Jesus who is the cornerstone, foundation, and centerpiece of our faith, Jesus who declares that he himself is the way, the truth and the life. Jesus who says he is the only way to the Father.
In a world that is increasingly secular, increasingly pluralistic and syncretistic, we Christians are accused of being narrow minded and politically incorrect when we insist that Jesus is the Savior, the only savior, for us and for the whole world.
In one of the commentaries, I read this week, published a dozen years ago, there was “remarkable true story about Harvard Divinity School.” Now I would think that a divinity school, a seminary, is supposed to teach Christian religion and theology. For example, the degree I received a year ago is a Masters of Divinity. Anyway, the story is a about a woman student at Harvard Divinity School who found that one of her professors was an agnostic, and subsequently
She inquired about the range of theological diversity on the seminary campus. “Anything goes,” came the reply. [The woman] pursued the point. “You mean no belief or absence of belief would keep one from being hired to teach theology?” “Only one,” came the clarification,” the refusal to endorse women’s ordination.” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: Letters of John, Zondervan. P. 60.)
Harvard Divinity School may have a different answer today. Another Christian group may have another answer: perhaps it’s the inerrancy of Scripture, or even certain beliefs about the 2nd coming.
But I think Peter and Luke and John the evangelist would disagree, that what is central to Christian faith is, well, Christ.
And that’s what I see when I considered today’s lessons.
In Acts, any time that Peter speaks, he speaks of Jesus. Today he is defending his actions before the spiritual leaders of the day regarding the physical healing of a man who had been lame since birth. Peter firmly declares that this was not of his own doing, but that the man was in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Jesus whom they had crucified, Jesus who is the stone that was rejected and has become the cornerstone. And Peter declares that “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.” The scandal of particularity. There is salvation in no one else but Jesus.
Luke tells us of one of the resurrection appearances of Jesus, and emphasizes his physicality. While the disciples were afraid, and thought that they were seeing a ghost, Jesus brings peace, and invites them to look at his hands and feet. He invites them to touch him and see, “for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” Jesus in a physical but transformed body who ate fish. Ghosts and spiritual beings don’t eat fish. They don’t eat, period. Jesus explained to them from the Scriptures that the Messiah had to suffer, and rise from the dead on the third day. In the name of Jesus, repentance and forgiveness of sins are to be proclaimed to all nations. And the disciples were witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection. The scandal of particularity. Jesus was and is the Messiah, the Christ, the Promised One.
In his opening comments to a troubled church, John lays the foundation of his theology, and the foundation of the church. The Greek grammar is fairly complex, and a more literal reading might be:
“What was from the beginning: what we have heard; what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands touched—concerning the word of life—and the life appeared and we have seen and testify, and announce to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was revealed to us; what we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you.”
John’s thought and discourse finds its center in the reality of Jesus’ personhood. Jesus, the Word, who was from the beginning, entered time and space and took up residence on earth. Jesus was a man they had heard and seen and beheld and touched. As John graphically announced in his gospel that “we have seen his glory” (John 1:14). This is the scandal of particularity; the scandal of the incarnation, God became a man. Jesus Christ entered time and space, and is a definitive revelation. This is, perhaps, the lowest common denominator for Christians. Jesus who actually lived and died and was resurrected.
And we can still see, touch, and hear Jesus today. Not in the flesh, of course, but in our Christian experience. It’s not just agreeing to a set of doctrines, but there’s a sense where discipleship is personal. Through our baptisms, through the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us and makes himself known, and we have fellowship with the Father and the Son as well as with other Christians. The foundation of healthy Christian community and fellowship are true experiences of Jesus. “The authenticity of our faith is . . . linked to the vitality of Jesus’ life within us. If Jesus is a doctrine, our testimony will be hollow. If Jesus is a person, our testimony will be potent” (Ibid, 62).
The scandal of particularity is the scandal of Jesus Christ, Jesus who is not just words, but is the Word, living in us, so that we might proclaim that there salvation in no one else, and there is no other name by which we must be saved. Amen.
As a whole, we Americans struggle with our faith. We wrestle with it, trying to make sense of how our faith impacts our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. George Barna, the founder of a research group dedicated to studying the role of faith and culture along with actual beliefs and behavior, recently said
“Most Americans, even those who say they are Christian, have doubts about the intrusion of the supernatural into the natural world. Hollywood has made evil accessible and tame, making Satan and demons less worrisome than the Bible suggests they really are. It’s hard for achievement-driven, self-reliant, independent people to believe that their lives can be impacted by unseen forces. At the same time, through sheer force of repetition, many Americans intellectually accept some ideas – such as the fact that you either side with God or Satan, there’s no in-between – that do not get translated into practice.”
Barna also noted that Christians tend to be open to co-existence with other faiths. “Most people understand that America’s religious life is diverse,” . . . . “A majority of Christians are generally open to maintaining relationships with people of other faiths, and most are not predisposed to judging people of different faiths, such as Mormons or Wiccans. But that open-mindedness is sometimes due to their limited knowledge about the principles of their own faith and ignorance about other faiths as it is to a purposeful acceptance of other faiths.”
(http://www.barna.org/barna-update/article/12-faithspirituality/260-most-american-christians-do-not-believe-that-satan-or-the-holy-spirit-exis_
In surveying self-described Christians last year, The Barna Group found that 78% of these Christians believed in a God who is the “all-powerful, all-knowing Creator of the universe who rules the world today.” The remainder of these Christians, nearly a quarter of those surveyed, had other understandings of God, ideas inconsistent with the Bible (ibid).
When asked about the divinity and perfection of Jesus Christ, nearly 40% didn’t agree with this, believing that Jesus sinned during his life on earth. This is also inconsistent with historical and biblical teaching (ibid).
And this brings me to what is called the “Scandal of Particularity.” The scandal of particularity is basically the scandal of Jesus, the “difficulty of regarding one single individual man as being the savior of all men” (http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/scandal_of_particularity). It’s the problem of the uniqueness, divinity, and perfection of Jesus. The scandal is over the cornerstone that Peter talks about in our Acts lesson, the cornerstone that is a stumbling block for the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks according to Paul (1 Cor 1:23)—and to much of our world. Jesus who is the cornerstone, foundation, and centerpiece of our faith, Jesus who declares that he himself is the way, the truth and the life. Jesus who says he is the only way to the Father.
In a world that is increasingly secular, increasingly pluralistic and syncretistic, we Christians are accused of being narrow minded and politically incorrect when we insist that Jesus is the Savior, the only savior, for us and for the whole world.
In one of the commentaries, I read this week, published a dozen years ago, there was “remarkable true story about Harvard Divinity School.” Now I would think that a divinity school, a seminary, is supposed to teach Christian religion and theology. For example, the degree I received a year ago is a Masters of Divinity. Anyway, the story is a about a woman student at Harvard Divinity School who found that one of her professors was an agnostic, and subsequently
She inquired about the range of theological diversity on the seminary campus. “Anything goes,” came the reply. [The woman] pursued the point. “You mean no belief or absence of belief would keep one from being hired to teach theology?” “Only one,” came the clarification,” the refusal to endorse women’s ordination.” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: Letters of John, Zondervan. P. 60.)
Harvard Divinity School may have a different answer today. Another Christian group may have another answer: perhaps it’s the inerrancy of Scripture, or even certain beliefs about the 2nd coming.
But I think Peter and Luke and John the evangelist would disagree, that what is central to Christian faith is, well, Christ.
And that’s what I see when I considered today’s lessons.
In Acts, any time that Peter speaks, he speaks of Jesus. Today he is defending his actions before the spiritual leaders of the day regarding the physical healing of a man who had been lame since birth. Peter firmly declares that this was not of his own doing, but that the man was in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Jesus whom they had crucified, Jesus who is the stone that was rejected and has become the cornerstone. And Peter declares that “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.” The scandal of particularity. There is salvation in no one else but Jesus.
Luke tells us of one of the resurrection appearances of Jesus, and emphasizes his physicality. While the disciples were afraid, and thought that they were seeing a ghost, Jesus brings peace, and invites them to look at his hands and feet. He invites them to touch him and see, “for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” Jesus in a physical but transformed body who ate fish. Ghosts and spiritual beings don’t eat fish. They don’t eat, period. Jesus explained to them from the Scriptures that the Messiah had to suffer, and rise from the dead on the third day. In the name of Jesus, repentance and forgiveness of sins are to be proclaimed to all nations. And the disciples were witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection. The scandal of particularity. Jesus was and is the Messiah, the Christ, the Promised One.
In his opening comments to a troubled church, John lays the foundation of his theology, and the foundation of the church. The Greek grammar is fairly complex, and a more literal reading might be:
“What was from the beginning: what we have heard; what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands touched—concerning the word of life—and the life appeared and we have seen and testify, and announce to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was revealed to us; what we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you.”
John’s thought and discourse finds its center in the reality of Jesus’ personhood. Jesus, the Word, who was from the beginning, entered time and space and took up residence on earth. Jesus was a man they had heard and seen and beheld and touched. As John graphically announced in his gospel that “we have seen his glory” (John 1:14). This is the scandal of particularity; the scandal of the incarnation, God became a man. Jesus Christ entered time and space, and is a definitive revelation. This is, perhaps, the lowest common denominator for Christians. Jesus who actually lived and died and was resurrected.
And we can still see, touch, and hear Jesus today. Not in the flesh, of course, but in our Christian experience. It’s not just agreeing to a set of doctrines, but there’s a sense where discipleship is personal. Through our baptisms, through the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us and makes himself known, and we have fellowship with the Father and the Son as well as with other Christians. The foundation of healthy Christian community and fellowship are true experiences of Jesus. “The authenticity of our faith is . . . linked to the vitality of Jesus’ life within us. If Jesus is a doctrine, our testimony will be hollow. If Jesus is a person, our testimony will be potent” (Ibid, 62).
The scandal of particularity is the scandal of Jesus Christ, Jesus who is not just words, but is the Word, living in us, so that we might proclaim that there salvation in no one else, and there is no other name by which we must be saved. Amen.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
2 Easter (B)
Good morning! Happy 2nd Sunday after Easter—also known as “Doubting Thomas Sunday.” However When I considered all of today’s lessons, I saw much more than the story of “Doubting” Thomas, or more accurately “skeptical” Thomas. I see a theme of seeing, of eyesight, eyewitnesses, vision, and I think this is important for us to consider today.
In our lesson from Acts, clearly Peter proclaims himself and the other disciples to have been witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ death and his resurrection. They had seen the Lord, raised from the dead, and this is the One who Peter proclaims.
Our psalm today spoke of the stone which the builders had rejected which became the chief cornerstone, and that stone is Jesus. He was chosen by the Lord’s doing, and the psalmist says “it is marvelous in our eyes!”
In our gospel, Jesus appeared first to the disciples who were inside a locked house. He spoke with them, and showed them his scars. Thomas was not there, but the ones who had been there told him, “we have seen the Lord.” Thomas the skeptic didn’t believe it, insisting that he had to see the marks of the nails in Jesus’ hands, and put his hand in the wound in his side before he would believe. And a week later, he had that opportunity. Jesus appeared in the house and Thomas was there this time. Jesus invites him to see and touch his hands and side, and challenges him to believe. As we read, Thomas does believe and in worship he says, “My Lord and My God.” Jesus doesn’t seem to be overly pleased with his confession, though. He says, “have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Now, since we are not eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we are those who have not seen him and yet have come to believe. We see him through faith. And in seeing Jesus, we also see God the Father. In John 14, Jesus told Philip “He who has seen me has seen the Father . . . Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?” In considering Jesus, we come to know what the Father is like. Because even though we weren’t there, we can visualize a man walking, teaching, suffering and dying. We can even get our minds around the resurrection, that the God-man was physically raised from the dead. After all, there were hundreds of eyewitnesses. And the gospels were written early enough that if it had been a hoax, it would have been found out. There is no doubt that something miraculous happened that day. In seeing Jesus with the eyes of our faith, we also see the attributes of the Father. We have been endowed with the Holy Spirit who aids us in this sight, who is our spectacles as it were. We see through faith. In John’s gospel and in the rest of the New Testament, we are shown “events in history that demand an interpretation and a response. . . . Jesus challenges all who come after to venture a judgment upon this history, that is upon his person, his presence through the Spirit in this particular community and through the life he offers" (Whitacre, Rod. John. Intervarsity press, 486). Faith gives us a vision of Jesus, and when we read the gospels, we “discover a vision, a knowledge, that invests everything in the historic person of Jesus Christ” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John. Zondervan, 577). About people such as us, people who believe even though we have not seen Jesus with our own eyes, Peter wrote in his epistle, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”
Sometimes it helps to think about seeing Jesus with fresh eyes, from a new perspective. The stories are so familiar to us that they don’t really have much emotional impact. So today I’d like to share a story written by Mrs. G. Tucker in Amarillo, Texas., a story of seeing Jesus, that says it better than I can. She wrote:
God recently allowed me to see Jesus through the eyes of someone seeing Him for the first time. Since most of us have the advantage of knowing how the story ends, we can easily forget the cost of our redemption and the love of our Savior.
Every year we attend a local church pageant that tells the story of Jesus from His birth through His resurrection. It is a spectacular event, with live animals and hundreds of cast members in realistic costumes. The magi enter from the rear of the huge auditorium, on Ilamas, descending the steps in pomp and majesty. Roman soldiers look huge and menacing in their costumes and makeup.
Of all the years we have attended, one holds very special memories for me. It was the year we took our then three-year-old granddaughter, Bailey, for the first time. She was mesmerized throughout the entire play. She was not just watching, but she was involved as if she were a participant.
She watched as Joseph and Mary traveled to the Inn, and she was thrilled when she saw the baby Jesus in His mother's arms. When Jesus, on a young donkey, descended the steps from the back of the auditorium (depicting His triumphal entry into Jerusalem) Bailey was ecstatic. As he neared our aisle, Bailey began to jump up and down. She screamed, "Jesus, Jesus! There's Jesus!"...not just saying the words, but exclaiming them with every fiber of her being. She alternated between screaming his name and hugging us. "It's Jesus. Look!" Tears filled my eyes as I looked at Jesus through the eyes of a child who was so in love with Him and seeing Him for the first time. How like the blind beggar who screamed out in reckless abandon, "Jesus, Jesus!"...afraid he might miss Him...not caring what others thought. (Mark 10:46-52)
Then came the arrest scene. On stage, the soldiers shoved and slapped Jesus as they moved Him from the Garden of Gethsemane to appear before Pilate. Bailey responded, with terror and anger, as if she were in the crowd of women. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Bad soldiers. Stop it!" As I watched her reaction, I suddenly wished we had talked to her before the play. I kept telling her, "Bailey, it's okay. They are just pretending." However, her response was, "They are hurting Jesus! Stop it!" She stood in her seat, reacting to each and every move. People around us, at first, smiled at her reaction. Then they quit smiling and began to watch her, as she watched Him. In a most powerful scene the soldiers lead Jesus, carrying the cross, down the steps of the auditorium from the back. They were yelling, whipping, and cursing at Jesus who appeared to be bloodied and beaten. Bailey was now hysterical. "Stop it! Soldiers, stop it!" she screamed. In her young mind she must have been wondering why so many people all around her did nothing to help. She then began to cry instead of scream. "Jesus, oh, Jesus," she said. People all around us began to weep as we all watched this devoted little disciple see her Jesus beaten and killed, as those first century disciples had seen. Going back and forth between her mother's lap and mine, for comfort, she was distraught. I kept saying, "Bailey, it's okay. Jesus is going to be okay. These are just people pretending to be soldiers. She looked at me like I was crazy. As she sat in my lap, we talked through the cross and burial. "Watch, Bailey, watch for Jesus!" The tomb began to tremble, and lightning flashed, as the stone rolled away. A Super Bowl touchdown cheer could not come close to matching this little one's reaction to the resurrection. "Jesus! He's okay. Mommy, it's Jesus!"
I prayed that she was not going to be traumatized by this event, but that she would remember it. I shall never forget it. I shall never forget seeing Jesus' suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection through the eyes of such a young child.
Following the pageant, all of the actors assembled in the foyer to be greeted by the audience. As we passed by some of the soldiers, Bailey screamed out, "Bad soldier. Don't you hurt Jesus." The actor who portrayed Jesus was some distance away, surrounded by well-wishers and friends. Bailey broke away from us and ran toward him, wrapping herself around his legs and holding on for dear life. He hugged her and said, "Jesus loves you." She would not let go. She kept clinging to Him, laughing and calling His name. She was not about to let go of her Jesus.
I like to think that God in heaven stopped whatever was going on that day, and asked all of the angels to watch Bailey. Perhaps He even said, "Now, look there! You see what I meant when I said, 'Of such is the kingdom of heaven?'"
Bailey's reaction should be our reaction every single day of our lives. When we think of Him...who He is...what He did for us...what He offers to us...how can we do anything less than worship Him?
“We have seen the Lord.” Let us rejoice and be glad!!
St James Marion 2008
Modified for St Andrews Carbondale 2009
In our lesson from Acts, clearly Peter proclaims himself and the other disciples to have been witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ death and his resurrection. They had seen the Lord, raised from the dead, and this is the One who Peter proclaims.
Our psalm today spoke of the stone which the builders had rejected which became the chief cornerstone, and that stone is Jesus. He was chosen by the Lord’s doing, and the psalmist says “it is marvelous in our eyes!”
In our gospel, Jesus appeared first to the disciples who were inside a locked house. He spoke with them, and showed them his scars. Thomas was not there, but the ones who had been there told him, “we have seen the Lord.” Thomas the skeptic didn’t believe it, insisting that he had to see the marks of the nails in Jesus’ hands, and put his hand in the wound in his side before he would believe. And a week later, he had that opportunity. Jesus appeared in the house and Thomas was there this time. Jesus invites him to see and touch his hands and side, and challenges him to believe. As we read, Thomas does believe and in worship he says, “My Lord and My God.” Jesus doesn’t seem to be overly pleased with his confession, though. He says, “have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Now, since we are not eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we are those who have not seen him and yet have come to believe. We see him through faith. And in seeing Jesus, we also see God the Father. In John 14, Jesus told Philip “He who has seen me has seen the Father . . . Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?” In considering Jesus, we come to know what the Father is like. Because even though we weren’t there, we can visualize a man walking, teaching, suffering and dying. We can even get our minds around the resurrection, that the God-man was physically raised from the dead. After all, there were hundreds of eyewitnesses. And the gospels were written early enough that if it had been a hoax, it would have been found out. There is no doubt that something miraculous happened that day. In seeing Jesus with the eyes of our faith, we also see the attributes of the Father. We have been endowed with the Holy Spirit who aids us in this sight, who is our spectacles as it were. We see through faith. In John’s gospel and in the rest of the New Testament, we are shown “events in history that demand an interpretation and a response. . . . Jesus challenges all who come after to venture a judgment upon this history, that is upon his person, his presence through the Spirit in this particular community and through the life he offers" (Whitacre, Rod. John. Intervarsity press, 486). Faith gives us a vision of Jesus, and when we read the gospels, we “discover a vision, a knowledge, that invests everything in the historic person of Jesus Christ” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John. Zondervan, 577). About people such as us, people who believe even though we have not seen Jesus with our own eyes, Peter wrote in his epistle, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”
Sometimes it helps to think about seeing Jesus with fresh eyes, from a new perspective. The stories are so familiar to us that they don’t really have much emotional impact. So today I’d like to share a story written by Mrs. G. Tucker in Amarillo, Texas., a story of seeing Jesus, that says it better than I can. She wrote:
God recently allowed me to see Jesus through the eyes of someone seeing Him for the first time. Since most of us have the advantage of knowing how the story ends, we can easily forget the cost of our redemption and the love of our Savior.
Every year we attend a local church pageant that tells the story of Jesus from His birth through His resurrection. It is a spectacular event, with live animals and hundreds of cast members in realistic costumes. The magi enter from the rear of the huge auditorium, on Ilamas, descending the steps in pomp and majesty. Roman soldiers look huge and menacing in their costumes and makeup.
Of all the years we have attended, one holds very special memories for me. It was the year we took our then three-year-old granddaughter, Bailey, for the first time. She was mesmerized throughout the entire play. She was not just watching, but she was involved as if she were a participant.
She watched as Joseph and Mary traveled to the Inn, and she was thrilled when she saw the baby Jesus in His mother's arms. When Jesus, on a young donkey, descended the steps from the back of the auditorium (depicting His triumphal entry into Jerusalem) Bailey was ecstatic. As he neared our aisle, Bailey began to jump up and down. She screamed, "Jesus, Jesus! There's Jesus!"...not just saying the words, but exclaiming them with every fiber of her being. She alternated between screaming his name and hugging us. "It's Jesus. Look!" Tears filled my eyes as I looked at Jesus through the eyes of a child who was so in love with Him and seeing Him for the first time. How like the blind beggar who screamed out in reckless abandon, "Jesus, Jesus!"...afraid he might miss Him...not caring what others thought. (Mark 10:46-52)
Then came the arrest scene. On stage, the soldiers shoved and slapped Jesus as they moved Him from the Garden of Gethsemane to appear before Pilate. Bailey responded, with terror and anger, as if she were in the crowd of women. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Bad soldiers. Stop it!" As I watched her reaction, I suddenly wished we had talked to her before the play. I kept telling her, "Bailey, it's okay. They are just pretending." However, her response was, "They are hurting Jesus! Stop it!" She stood in her seat, reacting to each and every move. People around us, at first, smiled at her reaction. Then they quit smiling and began to watch her, as she watched Him. In a most powerful scene the soldiers lead Jesus, carrying the cross, down the steps of the auditorium from the back. They were yelling, whipping, and cursing at Jesus who appeared to be bloodied and beaten. Bailey was now hysterical. "Stop it! Soldiers, stop it!" she screamed. In her young mind she must have been wondering why so many people all around her did nothing to help. She then began to cry instead of scream. "Jesus, oh, Jesus," she said. People all around us began to weep as we all watched this devoted little disciple see her Jesus beaten and killed, as those first century disciples had seen. Going back and forth between her mother's lap and mine, for comfort, she was distraught. I kept saying, "Bailey, it's okay. Jesus is going to be okay. These are just people pretending to be soldiers. She looked at me like I was crazy. As she sat in my lap, we talked through the cross and burial. "Watch, Bailey, watch for Jesus!" The tomb began to tremble, and lightning flashed, as the stone rolled away. A Super Bowl touchdown cheer could not come close to matching this little one's reaction to the resurrection. "Jesus! He's okay. Mommy, it's Jesus!"
I prayed that she was not going to be traumatized by this event, but that she would remember it. I shall never forget it. I shall never forget seeing Jesus' suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection through the eyes of such a young child.
Following the pageant, all of the actors assembled in the foyer to be greeted by the audience. As we passed by some of the soldiers, Bailey screamed out, "Bad soldier. Don't you hurt Jesus." The actor who portrayed Jesus was some distance away, surrounded by well-wishers and friends. Bailey broke away from us and ran toward him, wrapping herself around his legs and holding on for dear life. He hugged her and said, "Jesus loves you." She would not let go. She kept clinging to Him, laughing and calling His name. She was not about to let go of her Jesus.
I like to think that God in heaven stopped whatever was going on that day, and asked all of the angels to watch Bailey. Perhaps He even said, "Now, look there! You see what I meant when I said, 'Of such is the kingdom of heaven?'"
Bailey's reaction should be our reaction every single day of our lives. When we think of Him...who He is...what He did for us...what He offers to us...how can we do anything less than worship Him?
“We have seen the Lord.” Let us rejoice and be glad!!
St James Marion 2008
Modified for St Andrews Carbondale 2009
Easter 2009 (B)
I’m sure you have all seen movies where you don’t like or aren’t comfortable with the ending. Things are unresolved, uncertain, and you are left wondering what happened, or what happens next. We want things all wrapped up with a bow, all neat and tidy. All happily ever after. We want closure and justice and resolution. And so, we probably are much more comfortable with Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts of Easter morning.
But today we have the Gospel according to St. Mark, and the last 8 verses of the gospel. This is where it ends, with women coming out and fleeing from Jesus’ tomb, filled with terror and amazement. Women who said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. An even more accurate translation of the Greek is even worse: “The women went out from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; they said nothing to anyone, they were afraid for . . .”
Afraid for what? Even in Greek, you can’t just end a sentence with a preposition, as we learned in basic grammar, and our English translations resolve this by saying, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”
According to scholars, this is most likely the true original ending of Mark’s gospel, though in most of our bible translations one of two alternate longer endings is included. But this is indeed where the earliest manuscripts end. Like a song ending with an unresolved chord. “They were afraid for . . .”
There’s a story of a student
who had memorized the whole of Mark in order to do a dramatic, Broadway-style reading before a live audience. After careful study, the student had decided to go with the scholarly consensus regarding the ending. At his first performance, however, after he spoke that ambiguous last verse, he stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other, the audience waiting for more, waiting for closure, waiting for a proper ending. Finally, after several anxious seconds, he said, "Amen!" and made his exit. The relieved audience applauded loudly and appreciatively. Upon reflection, though, the student realized that by providing the audience a satisfying conclusion, his "Amen!" had actually betrayed the dramatic intention of the text. So at the next performance, when he reached the final verse he simply paused for a half beat and left the stage in silence. "The discomfort and uncertainty within the audience were obvious," said [his teacher] "and as people exited the buzz of conversation was dominated by the experience of the nonending."
(http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3392)
So what are we to make of this, this non-ending? Perhaps the key is the first verse in Mark’s Gospel. “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” With Jesus, the good news began, the kingdom of God is at hand, and it hasn’t ended. It continues today with us, with Easter People, living this side of the resurrection. Like Paul Harvey might say, we are “the rest of the story.” And the promise that the resurrection brings won’t be resolved, won’t be complete, until Jesus returns to reign and to judge, and heaven and earth are reunited and recreated, and we too are resurrected. That’s the promise of Easter. That’s the hope of the resurrection.
But the promise of Easter is for today, too. Especially for today—Alleluia, He is Risen!! Through his death, Jesus conquered sin and death so that through our baptisms we too have the power to overcome sin, and ultimately death. Jesus cleared the way for intimacy with God so that we can also call God our Abba, our Father. The resurrection of Jesus is the down payment for our future bodily resurrections.
In fact, the Resurrection of Jesus is the highest point of our whole year as Christians. Our culture has it wrong. It’s not about Christmas, it’s about Easter. Jesus conquered death and the grave. New creation has begun. Something totally new, totally unexpected happened. While we have read that Jesus raised Lazarus and others from the dead, we know that eventually they died. But when Jesus was resurrected from the dead by God the Father, he spent time on earth with his disciples in a new and different kind of body before ascending into heaven, where he is seated at the right hand of God the Father, and he will come again to reign and rule the New Earth, the re-created earth, populated with our resurrected bodies.
We have come through 40 days of Lent, preparing our hearts and minds for Easter. Preparing for this day. Like the women coming to the tomb early that morning to anoint and prepare Jesus’ body. What normally would be done for a dead body was put on hold for the Sabbath, but as soon as the Sabbath was ended, the women set about with the proper kinds of preparations for Jesus’ dead body. With great sadness and yet firm resolve they headed for the tomb where they had seen Joseph of Arimathea put Jesus’ body after he was killed on that horrible day. As they approach the tomb, they wondered about ordinary and reasonable things, like would they be able to move the stone away from the entrance. But when they got there, it was already moved back—a nice surprise. So they entered the tomb, expecting to find Jesus’ body so they could perform their labor of love.
But when they went in, they saw a young man, and they were understandably alarmed. Someone, a stranger, was there, when the Lord should have been there. The stranger told them not to be afraid, and he knew they were looking for Jesus—how could he have known that? He explains: He is not here, he has risen. Look, this is where he was, and he’s not here. Go and tell his disciples, tell Peter, that he will meet you in Galilee as he had promised. And the women fled from the tomb in fear and they said nothing because were afraid for . . .
But of course, they must have told someone. And they went to Galilee and met Jesus who had gone on before. Jesus who has gone on before us, too, leading the way.
We have come through the long season of Lent, but let us make sure and remember that Easter too is a season. This is the Feast of the Resurrection, Easter Day, but Easter lasts until Pentecost. There are 12 days of Christmas, but 50 days of Easter. Fifty days!! NT Wright says that Easter is so marvelous, so special, so unexpectedly wonderful, that we need to spend at least as much energy celebrating Christ’s resurrection as we did preparing for it through Lent. We need to spend as much on Easter as we do on Christmas. We truly should celebrate with wild delight and amazing joy! Be extravagant and exuberant in our worship. Be Fools for Christ. Wright suggests champagne for breakfast, planting spectacular blooming, fragrant flowers in our yards and in our hearts. Looking for opportunities to go and grow and bear the most wonderful delicious fruit—through the whole Easter season.
Easter is what it’s all about. Jesus is not in the tomb. He is risen. And we are the rest of the story. What are we doing as Easter people? How are we sharing the joy and the hope of the resurrection?
We are Easter people when we give of our money to help those less fortunate: through food basket projects, or through Superbowl of Caring, or through helping various shelters and food pantries in our communities. We are Easter people when we work for justice in our towns and counties. We are Easter people when we do our work in a way that glorifies God, that is noticeably different to those who work with us. We are Easter people when we help those around us, especially those less fortunate: the poor and the oppressed, the hungry and the widows and the orphans, those in prison either emotionally or in reality. We are Easter people when we work at marriage and other relationships even though it would be easier not to. We are Easter people when we put aside our own rights, our own needs, and we serve and follow Jesus to Galilee, to West Frankfort (Marion) Illinois, to the ends of the earth.
In our lives, though, things are still unresolved, uncertain, and we are left wondering what happens next. The ending is not yet clear, the music ends on a discord, our lives are messy and relationships unresolved. Things aren’t all neat and tidy. They aren’t all happily ever after. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t know all of the details of the rest of the story. But we do know that today is the Feast of the Resurrection, that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. We know that “We are God's children now; [and] what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). The Lenten fast is over—Let the Feast begin!! Alleluia!!
(St. Mark’s and St. James’)
But today we have the Gospel according to St. Mark, and the last 8 verses of the gospel. This is where it ends, with women coming out and fleeing from Jesus’ tomb, filled with terror and amazement. Women who said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. An even more accurate translation of the Greek is even worse: “The women went out from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; they said nothing to anyone, they were afraid for . . .”
Afraid for what? Even in Greek, you can’t just end a sentence with a preposition, as we learned in basic grammar, and our English translations resolve this by saying, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”
According to scholars, this is most likely the true original ending of Mark’s gospel, though in most of our bible translations one of two alternate longer endings is included. But this is indeed where the earliest manuscripts end. Like a song ending with an unresolved chord. “They were afraid for . . .”
There’s a story of a student
who had memorized the whole of Mark in order to do a dramatic, Broadway-style reading before a live audience. After careful study, the student had decided to go with the scholarly consensus regarding the ending. At his first performance, however, after he spoke that ambiguous last verse, he stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other, the audience waiting for more, waiting for closure, waiting for a proper ending. Finally, after several anxious seconds, he said, "Amen!" and made his exit. The relieved audience applauded loudly and appreciatively. Upon reflection, though, the student realized that by providing the audience a satisfying conclusion, his "Amen!" had actually betrayed the dramatic intention of the text. So at the next performance, when he reached the final verse he simply paused for a half beat and left the stage in silence. "The discomfort and uncertainty within the audience were obvious," said [his teacher] "and as people exited the buzz of conversation was dominated by the experience of the nonending."
(http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3392)
So what are we to make of this, this non-ending? Perhaps the key is the first verse in Mark’s Gospel. “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” With Jesus, the good news began, the kingdom of God is at hand, and it hasn’t ended. It continues today with us, with Easter People, living this side of the resurrection. Like Paul Harvey might say, we are “the rest of the story.” And the promise that the resurrection brings won’t be resolved, won’t be complete, until Jesus returns to reign and to judge, and heaven and earth are reunited and recreated, and we too are resurrected. That’s the promise of Easter. That’s the hope of the resurrection.
But the promise of Easter is for today, too. Especially for today—Alleluia, He is Risen!! Through his death, Jesus conquered sin and death so that through our baptisms we too have the power to overcome sin, and ultimately death. Jesus cleared the way for intimacy with God so that we can also call God our Abba, our Father. The resurrection of Jesus is the down payment for our future bodily resurrections.
In fact, the Resurrection of Jesus is the highest point of our whole year as Christians. Our culture has it wrong. It’s not about Christmas, it’s about Easter. Jesus conquered death and the grave. New creation has begun. Something totally new, totally unexpected happened. While we have read that Jesus raised Lazarus and others from the dead, we know that eventually they died. But when Jesus was resurrected from the dead by God the Father, he spent time on earth with his disciples in a new and different kind of body before ascending into heaven, where he is seated at the right hand of God the Father, and he will come again to reign and rule the New Earth, the re-created earth, populated with our resurrected bodies.
We have come through 40 days of Lent, preparing our hearts and minds for Easter. Preparing for this day. Like the women coming to the tomb early that morning to anoint and prepare Jesus’ body. What normally would be done for a dead body was put on hold for the Sabbath, but as soon as the Sabbath was ended, the women set about with the proper kinds of preparations for Jesus’ dead body. With great sadness and yet firm resolve they headed for the tomb where they had seen Joseph of Arimathea put Jesus’ body after he was killed on that horrible day. As they approach the tomb, they wondered about ordinary and reasonable things, like would they be able to move the stone away from the entrance. But when they got there, it was already moved back—a nice surprise. So they entered the tomb, expecting to find Jesus’ body so they could perform their labor of love.
But when they went in, they saw a young man, and they were understandably alarmed. Someone, a stranger, was there, when the Lord should have been there. The stranger told them not to be afraid, and he knew they were looking for Jesus—how could he have known that? He explains: He is not here, he has risen. Look, this is where he was, and he’s not here. Go and tell his disciples, tell Peter, that he will meet you in Galilee as he had promised. And the women fled from the tomb in fear and they said nothing because were afraid for . . .
But of course, they must have told someone. And they went to Galilee and met Jesus who had gone on before. Jesus who has gone on before us, too, leading the way.
We have come through the long season of Lent, but let us make sure and remember that Easter too is a season. This is the Feast of the Resurrection, Easter Day, but Easter lasts until Pentecost. There are 12 days of Christmas, but 50 days of Easter. Fifty days!! NT Wright says that Easter is so marvelous, so special, so unexpectedly wonderful, that we need to spend at least as much energy celebrating Christ’s resurrection as we did preparing for it through Lent. We need to spend as much on Easter as we do on Christmas. We truly should celebrate with wild delight and amazing joy! Be extravagant and exuberant in our worship. Be Fools for Christ. Wright suggests champagne for breakfast, planting spectacular blooming, fragrant flowers in our yards and in our hearts. Looking for opportunities to go and grow and bear the most wonderful delicious fruit—through the whole Easter season.
Easter is what it’s all about. Jesus is not in the tomb. He is risen. And we are the rest of the story. What are we doing as Easter people? How are we sharing the joy and the hope of the resurrection?
We are Easter people when we give of our money to help those less fortunate: through food basket projects, or through Superbowl of Caring, or through helping various shelters and food pantries in our communities. We are Easter people when we work for justice in our towns and counties. We are Easter people when we do our work in a way that glorifies God, that is noticeably different to those who work with us. We are Easter people when we help those around us, especially those less fortunate: the poor and the oppressed, the hungry and the widows and the orphans, those in prison either emotionally or in reality. We are Easter people when we work at marriage and other relationships even though it would be easier not to. We are Easter people when we put aside our own rights, our own needs, and we serve and follow Jesus to Galilee, to West Frankfort (Marion) Illinois, to the ends of the earth.
In our lives, though, things are still unresolved, uncertain, and we are left wondering what happens next. The ending is not yet clear, the music ends on a discord, our lives are messy and relationships unresolved. Things aren’t all neat and tidy. They aren’t all happily ever after. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t know all of the details of the rest of the story. But we do know that today is the Feast of the Resurrection, that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. We know that “We are God's children now; [and] what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). The Lenten fast is over—Let the Feast begin!! Alleluia!!
(St. Mark’s and St. James’)
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
B: Palm Sunday
St. Stephens Harrisburg
What does it mean to imitate Christ?
Undoubtedly it means different things to different people. It’s meant different things in different ages. In the 13th century, to St. Francis and his followers, it meant renouncing family and wealth, and any kind of material possessions. It meant simplicity and poverty, in keeping with Christ’s life. It meant begging for bread, working with the sick, and great obedience. Before he died, St. Frances purportedly received the Stigmata, the wounds of Christ in his own body, as part of his identification with Christ. It was the goal of the early Franciscans to imitate both Christ’s poverty and his wandering homelessness.
Are you ready to take this on? Ready to try it?
Fortunately, in our epistle today, Paul puts it a bit differently when he tells us to have the same mind, the same attitude, as Christ Jesus. We are to let the same mind be in us as was in Christ, to make our minds like Christ, to align our minds with Christ. But this is not just about our individual inner minds and attitudes, but more with how we relate to others. The “you” in the passage is plural. Perhaps a better translation is to “think this among or between yourselves.” Our relationship with each other should be characterized by the attitude of Christ, and in the next few verses Paul explains this.
Even though Christ, in his very nature, in his form, was God, equal to God, Paul says that Jesus did not consider his equality with God as something to be exploited, something to cling to. It was not an advantage or privilege but in fact led Jesus to empty himself and take the role of a slave. Christ made himself nothing, nullified his god-ness and took the nature of a slave in human likeness. A slave had no rights, so Christ did not hold on to any rights that would have been his as God. He gave up the privileges of deity and became a slave, in human form. He became identified with his humanity. Christ became human in the same sense, in the same way that makes each of us truly human. He manifested his deity by humbling himself to be a human slave. Mark 10:45 says that the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life for the ransom of many.
Paul next expresses the Deity of Christ as one who humbled himself to appear as a man, and to suffer death—even death on a cross. Jesus took the form of a slave, but went even lower when he obediently suffered death like on of us, but this death was by crucifixion. This was the lowest and most humiliating, the cruelest form of death. It was a death reserved for the lowest classes of people—it would have been extremely rare for any Roman citizen to be crucified. Citizenship had its privileges. But to be crucified usually involved various forms of torture and abuse even before being fastened to the cross by impaling, nailing, binding with ropes, or some combination. If the preliminary torture was not too severe, death would come slowly, perhaps over a period of days, as the victim suffered from thirst, hunger, suffocation, and blood loss—and the attacks of wild animals. A horrible way to die.
In submitting to death by crucifixion, Christ denied all of his rights, going from the Glory and exaltation of his triumphant entry into Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday . . . to the lowest of lows in his death by crucifixion on Good Friday—because of his love for humanity as an expression of his deity.
So Christ in his deity denied his rights by making himself nothing by becoming a human and a slave, and by humbling himself in his obedience to suffering and death on a cross.
And now God the Father takes center stage. After Christ’s humility and obedience, God took the initiative and exalted Jesus to the highest place and he gave Jesus the name that is above every name. Jesus was exalted to a place of superiority over all of creation; when he ascended to heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father his superiority is clearly revealed. And God gave him the name that is above every name. A name fitting for one equal to God, a name that would be acknowledged by all. And so, at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Jesus Christ is Lord!
So Christ is held up as an example to the church at Philippi and to us. If we are faithful, humble, and obedient, we too will receive the prize. We will attain the goal. “Just as Christ’s faithfulness will lead to the universal acknowledgment of his position, so their [and our] faithfulness will lead to identity with Christ and resurrection from the dead on the last day.”( Thielman, Frank. The NIV Application Commentary: Philippians p. 122. )
Christ is presented as an example to the Philippians and to us. We are to pursue humility and put the needs and interests of others before our own, not counting our rights, but imitating Christ Jesus who didn’t hold on to the rights or power or privilege that being equal to God would give him. Instead Christ became a slave, the lowest of the low, and was obedient even to death. We are to pursue the same kind of obedience, and if we are faithful and obedient as Christ was faithful and obedient, the last day, the judgment day, will bring our exaltation.
When we believe and say that Jesus is Lord, we seek to imitate Christ, and our lives will be lives of humility, of self-giving service and obedience. Our relationships with others, which each other, will be characterized by humility, service and obedience. And God works in us to accomplish this. He works in us to help us to be humble. He helps us to serve. He helps us to be obedient. And on the last day we will have to give an account of our relationships with those around us. And we pray that we will hear these words: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Master” (Matt 25:21).
What does it mean to imitate Christ?
Undoubtedly it means different things to different people. It’s meant different things in different ages. In the 13th century, to St. Francis and his followers, it meant renouncing family and wealth, and any kind of material possessions. It meant simplicity and poverty, in keeping with Christ’s life. It meant begging for bread, working with the sick, and great obedience. Before he died, St. Frances purportedly received the Stigmata, the wounds of Christ in his own body, as part of his identification with Christ. It was the goal of the early Franciscans to imitate both Christ’s poverty and his wandering homelessness.
Are you ready to take this on? Ready to try it?
Fortunately, in our epistle today, Paul puts it a bit differently when he tells us to have the same mind, the same attitude, as Christ Jesus. We are to let the same mind be in us as was in Christ, to make our minds like Christ, to align our minds with Christ. But this is not just about our individual inner minds and attitudes, but more with how we relate to others. The “you” in the passage is plural. Perhaps a better translation is to “think this among or between yourselves.” Our relationship with each other should be characterized by the attitude of Christ, and in the next few verses Paul explains this.
Even though Christ, in his very nature, in his form, was God, equal to God, Paul says that Jesus did not consider his equality with God as something to be exploited, something to cling to. It was not an advantage or privilege but in fact led Jesus to empty himself and take the role of a slave. Christ made himself nothing, nullified his god-ness and took the nature of a slave in human likeness. A slave had no rights, so Christ did not hold on to any rights that would have been his as God. He gave up the privileges of deity and became a slave, in human form. He became identified with his humanity. Christ became human in the same sense, in the same way that makes each of us truly human. He manifested his deity by humbling himself to be a human slave. Mark 10:45 says that the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life for the ransom of many.
Paul next expresses the Deity of Christ as one who humbled himself to appear as a man, and to suffer death—even death on a cross. Jesus took the form of a slave, but went even lower when he obediently suffered death like on of us, but this death was by crucifixion. This was the lowest and most humiliating, the cruelest form of death. It was a death reserved for the lowest classes of people—it would have been extremely rare for any Roman citizen to be crucified. Citizenship had its privileges. But to be crucified usually involved various forms of torture and abuse even before being fastened to the cross by impaling, nailing, binding with ropes, or some combination. If the preliminary torture was not too severe, death would come slowly, perhaps over a period of days, as the victim suffered from thirst, hunger, suffocation, and blood loss—and the attacks of wild animals. A horrible way to die.
In submitting to death by crucifixion, Christ denied all of his rights, going from the Glory and exaltation of his triumphant entry into Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday . . . to the lowest of lows in his death by crucifixion on Good Friday—because of his love for humanity as an expression of his deity.
So Christ in his deity denied his rights by making himself nothing by becoming a human and a slave, and by humbling himself in his obedience to suffering and death on a cross.
And now God the Father takes center stage. After Christ’s humility and obedience, God took the initiative and exalted Jesus to the highest place and he gave Jesus the name that is above every name. Jesus was exalted to a place of superiority over all of creation; when he ascended to heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father his superiority is clearly revealed. And God gave him the name that is above every name. A name fitting for one equal to God, a name that would be acknowledged by all. And so, at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Jesus Christ is Lord!
So Christ is held up as an example to the church at Philippi and to us. If we are faithful, humble, and obedient, we too will receive the prize. We will attain the goal. “Just as Christ’s faithfulness will lead to the universal acknowledgment of his position, so their [and our] faithfulness will lead to identity with Christ and resurrection from the dead on the last day.”( Thielman, Frank. The NIV Application Commentary: Philippians p. 122. )
Christ is presented as an example to the Philippians and to us. We are to pursue humility and put the needs and interests of others before our own, not counting our rights, but imitating Christ Jesus who didn’t hold on to the rights or power or privilege that being equal to God would give him. Instead Christ became a slave, the lowest of the low, and was obedient even to death. We are to pursue the same kind of obedience, and if we are faithful and obedient as Christ was faithful and obedient, the last day, the judgment day, will bring our exaltation.
When we believe and say that Jesus is Lord, we seek to imitate Christ, and our lives will be lives of humility, of self-giving service and obedience. Our relationships with others, which each other, will be characterized by humility, service and obedience. And God works in us to accomplish this. He works in us to help us to be humble. He helps us to serve. He helps us to be obedient. And on the last day we will have to give an account of our relationships with those around us. And we pray that we will hear these words: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Master” (Matt 25:21).
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Feast of the Annunciation
NRS John 1:1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.
And because of Mary’s word, Mary’s yes,
14 the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.
I sometimes envision all of Salvation history, all of the Old Testament, all of it’s people, pointing towards, funneling downward towards the Christ event: the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. But none of this would have happened without the obedience of a young girl, a girl who said yes, be it done unto me according to thy word. That was the moment in time that all of God’s work was pointing at. The one moment when Mary said yes, and God took off his divinity. When Mary said yes, the Holy Spirit moved over her, in much the same way as when the Spirit of God moved over the face of the waters in Genesis.
The Spirit moved, and God became a human embryo, confined in the darkness of his mother’s womb for 9 months, growing and then being born in the usual manner of human beings. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. And the world would never be the same. God became man. Divinity and humanity merged into one person, Jesus Christ,
who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross. (Phil. 2:6-8).
This was God’s plan from the beginning. It wasn’t plan B—it was the only plan, the plan for salvation. The plan to bring us into relationship with him. The plan where God has done everything for us, and all we have to do is say the word—yes.
And because of Mary’s word, Mary’s yes,
14 the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.
I sometimes envision all of Salvation history, all of the Old Testament, all of it’s people, pointing towards, funneling downward towards the Christ event: the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. But none of this would have happened without the obedience of a young girl, a girl who said yes, be it done unto me according to thy word. That was the moment in time that all of God’s work was pointing at. The one moment when Mary said yes, and God took off his divinity. When Mary said yes, the Holy Spirit moved over her, in much the same way as when the Spirit of God moved over the face of the waters in Genesis.
The Spirit moved, and God became a human embryo, confined in the darkness of his mother’s womb for 9 months, growing and then being born in the usual manner of human beings. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. And the world would never be the same. God became man. Divinity and humanity merged into one person, Jesus Christ,
who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross. (Phil. 2:6-8).
This was God’s plan from the beginning. It wasn’t plan B—it was the only plan, the plan for salvation. The plan to bring us into relationship with him. The plan where God has done everything for us, and all we have to do is say the word—yes.
4 Lent, B, 03/22/09
St. James McLeansboro
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God--not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” (Eph. 2:8-10).
These are the last three verses of today’s Epistle from the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians, and have variously been called “a summary of the nature of the salvation achieved by God;”[1] or a summary of Paul’s Gospel, or a summary of the Gospel. So these words are worth noticing and attending to.
Now the word Gospel comes to us from the Old English word “Godspel” meaning Good News, Good Message. Godspel is a translation of the Latin: Bona adnutiatio, or good annunciation, good proclamation. And this is the translation of the Greek word euangelion. Which of course means—Good News.
Now it seems to me that in order to have good news, we must understand the bad news. And that isn’t provided by the lectionary text given to us today. Kind of a criticism of the Book of Common Prayer lectionary in general: it’s heavy on good news, puts a lot of emphasis on building us up and making us feel good, but it doesn’t as often tell us why we need to be built up. If we need to feel good, there might be some reason that we don’t feel good. Otherwise, why do we need to hear good news?
The lectionary occasionally skips over verses; missing things that might make us feel uncomfortable. Ideas like sin, fallenness, lostness. Ideas like the wrath and judgment of God. Things we don’t like—but shouldn’t avoid.
And for today’s Epistle, the lectionary starts actually in the middle of a sentence (in the original Greek text). Ephesians 2:1-7 is one long sentence, very typical of Paul. So in order to understand the context of the Good News at the end of our text, I’m going to read the beginning of the sentence in verses 1-3. This is why we need Good News.
And you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.
That’s the bad news. That’s the reason Jesus came to proclaim Good News. The reason that Paul proclaims good news.
While this was written to the church at Ephesus, primarily to Gentile Christians, it is applicable to all of us. It is as true for us as it was for them. We are not superior, we are not more enlightened, we don’t have a better grasp on life. No, the truth of the matter is that we were dead through the trespasses and sins in which we once lived. Without Christ, we are dead. Dead because of our trespasses and sins. Dead because of our way of life, because of our walking in sin. Dead. Meaningless. Without Christ we have no relationship with God, and our relationships with each other are distorted. And the consequence of sin is death. Romans 6:23 says that the wages of sin is death.
We were dead because we followed the ways of the world, the worldly age in which we live, the world of evil, the world that is opposed to God, the world that doesn’t think too highly of God. This is a life of disobedience to God. A life of sin. Paul says that all of us, including 1st century Jews and Gentiles, including us today, once lived as disobedient, living according to passions, according to our sinful nature, following our cravings and desires. These are normal human needs, but distorted and subverted. The result of this sinful way of life, without Christ’s intervention, is God’s wrath. We are children of wrath. God’s wrath is his Holy response to sin.
Sin is universal. All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. But this pervasive problem does not mean that we have no value. On the contrary, we were created in God’s image, and though we have a sinful nature as a result of the fall, we still have enormous worth. We are still somehow worthy of God’s love.
And so, even though we were dead in our sins, even though the picture is not a pretty one, God acted. Even though we were dead . . . but God. But God who is rich in mercy. But God who is merciful just because he is that kind of God. But God, out of the great love with which he loved us. Because he is that kind of God. But God, even when we were dead through our trespass. But God made us alive together with Christ. To be saved from sin and death involves a savior, Jesus Christ. A gift requires a giver. By the gift of grace we are saved, not by our own merit, but by the mercy and love of God. The solution to our death is resurrection, a life infused with the life of Christ.
We have been raised up with Christ and God has seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. We are saved by both Christ’s death and his resurrection, and we have been raised and exalted with him. And not only have we been raised with him, we are already seated with him in the heavens. The world is not our home. What is true of Christ is now true of us. We are joined to him, and we are where he is. Because of Christ we have a life of privilege, honor, security, and responsibility. Because we are in Christ, under his influence, we have been changed from death to life, from the world to heaven.
By grace we have been saved through faith, and this is not of our own doing but it is the gift of God. It is not because of works, but simply because of God’s goodness and favor towards us. Though we deserved God’s wrath because of our sinfulness, we instead are the blessed recipients of his saving grace. This is God’s merciful, loving, grace-filled nature. Grace is God’s gift of himself to us, and this very grace connects us, joins us with Christ. And we receive this grace only by our faith. We are saved by grace, not by faith; we receive grace by our faith. “Grace is a gift from the trustworthy God, whom we believe.”[2]
This gift of God, this grace, is, again, not the result of our works, not something we can achieve or do. It’s not about any condition or accomplishment of our own. It is not something we can do anything to acquire. There is nothing we can do to improve our standing before God. The only thing we can boast about is what God has done for us. All we have, all we are, all we do comes from God.
We are what he has made us. We are his workmanship, his artistry, created for good works which God has prepared for us to walk in. We are God’s masterpiece, the result of his and only his creative and redemptive activity. We only receive the gift that is offered. And as his creatures, we are also called to be creative and active and productive, doing good works, living in obedience, being good neighbors: loving our neighbors as ourselves. Good works are the consequence of God’s grace and our salvation. Good works, performed out of love, gratitude, and obedience are the evidence that we have been transformed.
I think part of the problem we have with this whole passage is that we don’t take it seriously. We don’t believe that we are as bad as Paul says we are. After all, we think we are pretty decent folks, thank you very much. But . . . we also don’t believe that we are as good as he says we are. Does God really love us that much? Are we really raised up with Christ? What does that mean? It means that with God we have hope. With God we have value.
Paul clearly states that our condition without God is impossible, fatal. Life without God is meaningless, transitory, chasing after the wind. We don’t like to think about sin and death, but look at the evil in our society. Look at suicide rates, at alcohol and drug abuse, at the greed that has contributed to the current economic crisis. We don’t like the idea of being dead in our trespasses and our sins, but when we choose to live without God, that is in fact our reality. When we ignore God, that’s sin.
We also don’t like the idea of the wrath of God. After all, we prefer a loving, feel good God, made in our image. A wrathful God, we think, is so old-fashioned, so yesterday, so Old Testament. But the whole Bible, the whole story of from the fall to the coming of Jesus to the book of the Revelation, it’s all the story of a holy and wrathful God’s response to sin and disobedience. Just as hate is not the opposite of love, so wrath is not the opposite of love. God’s wrath in fact expresses his love for the world. “If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some immovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.”[3] And this loving God’s holy nature abhors our sins. It is as bad as he says it is.
But because of his great love for us, love that supersedes his wrath, and while we were still dead in our sin, he sent his Son to die for us. And by his death, our sinfulness is put to death and we are joined with him and raised with him. From death to life. Jesus’ victory over sin and death determine who we really are: We are united with Christ and raised with him. The same power which raised Christ from the dead is available to us who believe.[4] We are as good as Paul says we are. And this, this is the Good News.
[1] Lincoln, Andrew T. Word Biblical Commentary: Ephesians p. 84
[2] Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. P. 105.
[3] Ibid, 111.
[4] Eph 1:19-20
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God--not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” (Eph. 2:8-10).
These are the last three verses of today’s Epistle from the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians, and have variously been called “a summary of the nature of the salvation achieved by God;”[1] or a summary of Paul’s Gospel, or a summary of the Gospel. So these words are worth noticing and attending to.
Now the word Gospel comes to us from the Old English word “Godspel” meaning Good News, Good Message. Godspel is a translation of the Latin: Bona adnutiatio, or good annunciation, good proclamation. And this is the translation of the Greek word euangelion. Which of course means—Good News.
Now it seems to me that in order to have good news, we must understand the bad news. And that isn’t provided by the lectionary text given to us today. Kind of a criticism of the Book of Common Prayer lectionary in general: it’s heavy on good news, puts a lot of emphasis on building us up and making us feel good, but it doesn’t as often tell us why we need to be built up. If we need to feel good, there might be some reason that we don’t feel good. Otherwise, why do we need to hear good news?
The lectionary occasionally skips over verses; missing things that might make us feel uncomfortable. Ideas like sin, fallenness, lostness. Ideas like the wrath and judgment of God. Things we don’t like—but shouldn’t avoid.
And for today’s Epistle, the lectionary starts actually in the middle of a sentence (in the original Greek text). Ephesians 2:1-7 is one long sentence, very typical of Paul. So in order to understand the context of the Good News at the end of our text, I’m going to read the beginning of the sentence in verses 1-3. This is why we need Good News.
And you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.
That’s the bad news. That’s the reason Jesus came to proclaim Good News. The reason that Paul proclaims good news.
While this was written to the church at Ephesus, primarily to Gentile Christians, it is applicable to all of us. It is as true for us as it was for them. We are not superior, we are not more enlightened, we don’t have a better grasp on life. No, the truth of the matter is that we were dead through the trespasses and sins in which we once lived. Without Christ, we are dead. Dead because of our trespasses and sins. Dead because of our way of life, because of our walking in sin. Dead. Meaningless. Without Christ we have no relationship with God, and our relationships with each other are distorted. And the consequence of sin is death. Romans 6:23 says that the wages of sin is death.
We were dead because we followed the ways of the world, the worldly age in which we live, the world of evil, the world that is opposed to God, the world that doesn’t think too highly of God. This is a life of disobedience to God. A life of sin. Paul says that all of us, including 1st century Jews and Gentiles, including us today, once lived as disobedient, living according to passions, according to our sinful nature, following our cravings and desires. These are normal human needs, but distorted and subverted. The result of this sinful way of life, without Christ’s intervention, is God’s wrath. We are children of wrath. God’s wrath is his Holy response to sin.
Sin is universal. All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. But this pervasive problem does not mean that we have no value. On the contrary, we were created in God’s image, and though we have a sinful nature as a result of the fall, we still have enormous worth. We are still somehow worthy of God’s love.
And so, even though we were dead in our sins, even though the picture is not a pretty one, God acted. Even though we were dead . . . but God. But God who is rich in mercy. But God who is merciful just because he is that kind of God. But God, out of the great love with which he loved us. Because he is that kind of God. But God, even when we were dead through our trespass. But God made us alive together with Christ. To be saved from sin and death involves a savior, Jesus Christ. A gift requires a giver. By the gift of grace we are saved, not by our own merit, but by the mercy and love of God. The solution to our death is resurrection, a life infused with the life of Christ.
We have been raised up with Christ and God has seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. We are saved by both Christ’s death and his resurrection, and we have been raised and exalted with him. And not only have we been raised with him, we are already seated with him in the heavens. The world is not our home. What is true of Christ is now true of us. We are joined to him, and we are where he is. Because of Christ we have a life of privilege, honor, security, and responsibility. Because we are in Christ, under his influence, we have been changed from death to life, from the world to heaven.
By grace we have been saved through faith, and this is not of our own doing but it is the gift of God. It is not because of works, but simply because of God’s goodness and favor towards us. Though we deserved God’s wrath because of our sinfulness, we instead are the blessed recipients of his saving grace. This is God’s merciful, loving, grace-filled nature. Grace is God’s gift of himself to us, and this very grace connects us, joins us with Christ. And we receive this grace only by our faith. We are saved by grace, not by faith; we receive grace by our faith. “Grace is a gift from the trustworthy God, whom we believe.”[2]
This gift of God, this grace, is, again, not the result of our works, not something we can achieve or do. It’s not about any condition or accomplishment of our own. It is not something we can do anything to acquire. There is nothing we can do to improve our standing before God. The only thing we can boast about is what God has done for us. All we have, all we are, all we do comes from God.
We are what he has made us. We are his workmanship, his artistry, created for good works which God has prepared for us to walk in. We are God’s masterpiece, the result of his and only his creative and redemptive activity. We only receive the gift that is offered. And as his creatures, we are also called to be creative and active and productive, doing good works, living in obedience, being good neighbors: loving our neighbors as ourselves. Good works are the consequence of God’s grace and our salvation. Good works, performed out of love, gratitude, and obedience are the evidence that we have been transformed.
I think part of the problem we have with this whole passage is that we don’t take it seriously. We don’t believe that we are as bad as Paul says we are. After all, we think we are pretty decent folks, thank you very much. But . . . we also don’t believe that we are as good as he says we are. Does God really love us that much? Are we really raised up with Christ? What does that mean? It means that with God we have hope. With God we have value.
Paul clearly states that our condition without God is impossible, fatal. Life without God is meaningless, transitory, chasing after the wind. We don’t like to think about sin and death, but look at the evil in our society. Look at suicide rates, at alcohol and drug abuse, at the greed that has contributed to the current economic crisis. We don’t like the idea of being dead in our trespasses and our sins, but when we choose to live without God, that is in fact our reality. When we ignore God, that’s sin.
We also don’t like the idea of the wrath of God. After all, we prefer a loving, feel good God, made in our image. A wrathful God, we think, is so old-fashioned, so yesterday, so Old Testament. But the whole Bible, the whole story of from the fall to the coming of Jesus to the book of the Revelation, it’s all the story of a holy and wrathful God’s response to sin and disobedience. Just as hate is not the opposite of love, so wrath is not the opposite of love. God’s wrath in fact expresses his love for the world. “If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some immovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.”[3] And this loving God’s holy nature abhors our sins. It is as bad as he says it is.
But because of his great love for us, love that supersedes his wrath, and while we were still dead in our sin, he sent his Son to die for us. And by his death, our sinfulness is put to death and we are joined with him and raised with him. From death to life. Jesus’ victory over sin and death determine who we really are: We are united with Christ and raised with him. The same power which raised Christ from the dead is available to us who believe.[4] We are as good as Paul says we are. And this, this is the Good News.
[1] Lincoln, Andrew T. Word Biblical Commentary: Ephesians p. 84
[2] Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. P. 105.
[3] Ibid, 111.
[4] Eph 1:19-20
Monday, March 9, 2009
2 Lent (B)
St. Mark's and St. James
In most Episcopal churches we use a lectionary for our Sunday readings—we are using the lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer. In fact, today’s readings are listed at the bottom of page 902 in your prayer books. The readings for the weeks and months ahead are all there.
There’s also a lectionary called the Revised Common Lectionary, which many Episcopal churches use, and it is also used by the Roman Catholic church, the Evangelical Lutheran church, the Missouri Synod Lutherans, the Presbyterians, and many others.
For some of you who have come to the Episcopal Church from another tradition, this may seem very rigid, and quite a strange idea, but there are many advantages, I think. I appreciate that there are selected readings, that I don’t have to come up with ideas on my own—who knows where that would lead us! The 3 year lectionary moves fairly systematically through the 3 synoptic gospels, with John’s gospel sprinkled in (and in fact we hear from John next week); we are in Year B which focuses on the Gospel according to St. Mark. And on any given Sunday I could preach on the Old Testament reading, or the Psalm, or the Epistle, or the Gospel, or any combination of the above, because they are meant to tie together somewhat. The lectionary is also tied to the seasons. In Advent we hear about the Coming One, both the baby in the manger, and the one who will come and rule the world. In Epiphany, Jesus is gradually revealed as Son of God, Son of Man, Messiah. Readings in Lent tend to focus our attention on self-denial, on preparation for the suffering and death of our Lord, and what is required of us as his disciples.
But one big disadvantage is that readings don’t always flow in sequence. In Epiphany we did work systematically through the 1st chapter of Mark, but then two weeks ago we jumped ahead to the Transfiguration in chapter 9. And last week we were back in chapter one, revisiting Jesus’ baptism and temptation, and today we are in chapter 8. I might suggest that, since this year we are focused on Mark, you sit down and read it in one sitting—it won’t take much more than an hour—in order to get the feel and the flow of Mark. Perhaps a good Lenten discipline.
Now, if you were here two weeks ago when we looked at the transfiguration, I tried to put it in context by looking back at chapter 8—I had a seminary professor who always, always said that Context is King. It’s hard to understand what is going on when you lift a few verses out of context. We need to know what’s gone on before for things to make sense.
And the lectionary certainly doesn’t do that very well. In fact, there’s no way that we can know what happened just before today’s Gospel reading. But what just happened is a big deal. Jesus asked the disciples who they think he is, and after kicking around a few ideas, Peter puts their hopes into words: You are the Messiah, the Christ, the promised one! And then, Peter and the disciples were rebuked, warned not to tell anyone! I think this is because they didn’t have the right understanding of the Messiah. They believed that “the Messiah would be a royal figure, the offspring of David, whom God would empower to deliver Israel from her foes.”[1] He would be a triumphant and wise king, a victorious conqueror. I’m sure the disciples had visions of triumph and majesty that clouded their understanding—and great dreams that they themselves would be a part of it all. But this triumphant king was not quite the Messiah they got, and they certainly didn’t understand it all until after Jesus died and rose again.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. After rebuking Peter, we come to today’s reading where Jesus began to explain that the Messiah, the Son of Man, isn’t a conquering king, but that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the powers that be, and that he would be killed, and then after 3 days he would rise again. And our beloved and outspoken Peter would have none of this. And I’m sure he didn’t even hear the part about rising again. The Messiah would suffer and die!? What an offensive idea! This doesn’t have to be! The picture of Messiah on the one hand, and the picture of his suffering and death on the other, were incompatible, irreconcilable. This can’t be! It’s like saying that the sky is down and the earth is up. The sun rises in the west. There’s no way this is going to happen, not if Peter can help it. So Peter told him that, that it doesn’t have to be this way. And Jesus rebuked Peter, one of his closest friends, for setting his mind on human things, on having things his way. Jesus must go to Jerusalem, he must suffer and die and rise again. The same Spirit that drove him into the wilderness to be tempted in last week’s reading now drives him towards his destiny.
After rebuking Peter, Jesus called the crowd and his disciples: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I’m surprised he had any disciples left after this!! Deny themselves, and follow, well they had done that. After all, they had left their lives and their livelihood to follow this teacher. But to take up the cross, that was another thing entirely. The cross was the Roman instrument of capital punishment. The cross was a symbol of oppression and tyranny. The cross was extremely painful torture. And, ultimately, the cross was death. Who wants that? Jesus appeals to their desire to save their own lives as justification for this cross-bearing: in order to save your life you must lose it, and those who lose their lives will find life. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world if they lose their lives? What are their lives, anyway? What can they give in return for their life—but their life. Jesus concludes by warning that those who are ashamed Jesus, of them the Son of man will be ashamed when he comes in judgment. So the better part of wisdom would suggest that it’s better to follow him.
There is a cost to discipleship. If we are to follow Jesus, if we are to be his disciples, we are to deny ourselves, and take up our cross, and follow. To deny ourselves is not just giving up something for Lent. It’s not self-discipline. To deny ourselves is to say “Yes” to God and “NO” to ourselves. It is to disown ourselves, to renounce our right to do things our way. It’s taking our sinful passions and desires and nailing them to the cross. It is to live no longer for ourselves, but for Christ, who died for us and was raised for us (2 Cor 5:15) . What is it that keeps you from giving your life over to God? What are you holding on to? That is what you must nail to the cross.
To take up our cross is to live lives of self-sacrifice, to lay down our lives for each other. It means being willing to suffer, to be shamed, to be rejected as fools for following Jesus. The cross is not a fashion accessory. It’s not some physical affliction, or troublesome family member. It’s not the skeletons in your closet—we all have them. It’s not catastrophe. “The cross represents the oppression caused by humans who oppose the faith and witness of Christians.”[2] It’s about being more concerned for the other than we are for ourselves. To be a disciple, to deny ourselves and take up the cross and follow Christ is a strong challenge and a high calling. It’s not easy or comfortable to be a disciple. And we can’t do it on our own. We can’t do it on our own, but we can do it with Christ’s help. But even so, to be a disciple is a costly proposition.
But what are the costs of not being a disciple, of not following Christ, of not denying ourselves and picking up the cross and following Jesus? Dallas Willard puts it this way:
Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10). The cross-shaped yoke of Christ is after all an instrument of liberation and power to those who live in it with him and learn the meekness and lowliness of heart that brings rest to the soul.[3]
Peter and the others chose the path of discipleship. And we too have a choice: the challenge of discipleship and all its costly demands, or non-discipleship which ultimately costs us our lives. What will it profit us to gain the whole world, and lose our lives? Amen.
[1] Garland, David E. The NIV Application Commentary: Mark. Zondervan, p. 323.
[2] Ibid, 334-5.
[3] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding how God Changes Lives. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1988, p.263.
In most Episcopal churches we use a lectionary for our Sunday readings—we are using the lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer. In fact, today’s readings are listed at the bottom of page 902 in your prayer books. The readings for the weeks and months ahead are all there.
There’s also a lectionary called the Revised Common Lectionary, which many Episcopal churches use, and it is also used by the Roman Catholic church, the Evangelical Lutheran church, the Missouri Synod Lutherans, the Presbyterians, and many others.
For some of you who have come to the Episcopal Church from another tradition, this may seem very rigid, and quite a strange idea, but there are many advantages, I think. I appreciate that there are selected readings, that I don’t have to come up with ideas on my own—who knows where that would lead us! The 3 year lectionary moves fairly systematically through the 3 synoptic gospels, with John’s gospel sprinkled in (and in fact we hear from John next week); we are in Year B which focuses on the Gospel according to St. Mark. And on any given Sunday I could preach on the Old Testament reading, or the Psalm, or the Epistle, or the Gospel, or any combination of the above, because they are meant to tie together somewhat. The lectionary is also tied to the seasons. In Advent we hear about the Coming One, both the baby in the manger, and the one who will come and rule the world. In Epiphany, Jesus is gradually revealed as Son of God, Son of Man, Messiah. Readings in Lent tend to focus our attention on self-denial, on preparation for the suffering and death of our Lord, and what is required of us as his disciples.
But one big disadvantage is that readings don’t always flow in sequence. In Epiphany we did work systematically through the 1st chapter of Mark, but then two weeks ago we jumped ahead to the Transfiguration in chapter 9. And last week we were back in chapter one, revisiting Jesus’ baptism and temptation, and today we are in chapter 8. I might suggest that, since this year we are focused on Mark, you sit down and read it in one sitting—it won’t take much more than an hour—in order to get the feel and the flow of Mark. Perhaps a good Lenten discipline.
Now, if you were here two weeks ago when we looked at the transfiguration, I tried to put it in context by looking back at chapter 8—I had a seminary professor who always, always said that Context is King. It’s hard to understand what is going on when you lift a few verses out of context. We need to know what’s gone on before for things to make sense.
And the lectionary certainly doesn’t do that very well. In fact, there’s no way that we can know what happened just before today’s Gospel reading. But what just happened is a big deal. Jesus asked the disciples who they think he is, and after kicking around a few ideas, Peter puts their hopes into words: You are the Messiah, the Christ, the promised one! And then, Peter and the disciples were rebuked, warned not to tell anyone! I think this is because they didn’t have the right understanding of the Messiah. They believed that “the Messiah would be a royal figure, the offspring of David, whom God would empower to deliver Israel from her foes.”[1] He would be a triumphant and wise king, a victorious conqueror. I’m sure the disciples had visions of triumph and majesty that clouded their understanding—and great dreams that they themselves would be a part of it all. But this triumphant king was not quite the Messiah they got, and they certainly didn’t understand it all until after Jesus died and rose again.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. After rebuking Peter, we come to today’s reading where Jesus began to explain that the Messiah, the Son of Man, isn’t a conquering king, but that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the powers that be, and that he would be killed, and then after 3 days he would rise again. And our beloved and outspoken Peter would have none of this. And I’m sure he didn’t even hear the part about rising again. The Messiah would suffer and die!? What an offensive idea! This doesn’t have to be! The picture of Messiah on the one hand, and the picture of his suffering and death on the other, were incompatible, irreconcilable. This can’t be! It’s like saying that the sky is down and the earth is up. The sun rises in the west. There’s no way this is going to happen, not if Peter can help it. So Peter told him that, that it doesn’t have to be this way. And Jesus rebuked Peter, one of his closest friends, for setting his mind on human things, on having things his way. Jesus must go to Jerusalem, he must suffer and die and rise again. The same Spirit that drove him into the wilderness to be tempted in last week’s reading now drives him towards his destiny.
After rebuking Peter, Jesus called the crowd and his disciples: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I’m surprised he had any disciples left after this!! Deny themselves, and follow, well they had done that. After all, they had left their lives and their livelihood to follow this teacher. But to take up the cross, that was another thing entirely. The cross was the Roman instrument of capital punishment. The cross was a symbol of oppression and tyranny. The cross was extremely painful torture. And, ultimately, the cross was death. Who wants that? Jesus appeals to their desire to save their own lives as justification for this cross-bearing: in order to save your life you must lose it, and those who lose their lives will find life. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world if they lose their lives? What are their lives, anyway? What can they give in return for their life—but their life. Jesus concludes by warning that those who are ashamed Jesus, of them the Son of man will be ashamed when he comes in judgment. So the better part of wisdom would suggest that it’s better to follow him.
There is a cost to discipleship. If we are to follow Jesus, if we are to be his disciples, we are to deny ourselves, and take up our cross, and follow. To deny ourselves is not just giving up something for Lent. It’s not self-discipline. To deny ourselves is to say “Yes” to God and “NO” to ourselves. It is to disown ourselves, to renounce our right to do things our way. It’s taking our sinful passions and desires and nailing them to the cross. It is to live no longer for ourselves, but for Christ, who died for us and was raised for us (2 Cor 5:15) . What is it that keeps you from giving your life over to God? What are you holding on to? That is what you must nail to the cross.
To take up our cross is to live lives of self-sacrifice, to lay down our lives for each other. It means being willing to suffer, to be shamed, to be rejected as fools for following Jesus. The cross is not a fashion accessory. It’s not some physical affliction, or troublesome family member. It’s not the skeletons in your closet—we all have them. It’s not catastrophe. “The cross represents the oppression caused by humans who oppose the faith and witness of Christians.”[2] It’s about being more concerned for the other than we are for ourselves. To be a disciple, to deny ourselves and take up the cross and follow Christ is a strong challenge and a high calling. It’s not easy or comfortable to be a disciple. And we can’t do it on our own. We can’t do it on our own, but we can do it with Christ’s help. But even so, to be a disciple is a costly proposition.
But what are the costs of not being a disciple, of not following Christ, of not denying ourselves and picking up the cross and following Jesus? Dallas Willard puts it this way:
Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10). The cross-shaped yoke of Christ is after all an instrument of liberation and power to those who live in it with him and learn the meekness and lowliness of heart that brings rest to the soul.[3]
Peter and the others chose the path of discipleship. And we too have a choice: the challenge of discipleship and all its costly demands, or non-discipleship which ultimately costs us our lives. What will it profit us to gain the whole world, and lose our lives? Amen.
[1] Garland, David E. The NIV Application Commentary: Mark. Zondervan, p. 323.
[2] Ibid, 334-5.
[3] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding how God Changes Lives. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1988, p.263.
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