A Glimpse at the Possibilities

I would venture, most of us come to Easter services expecting to celebrate the risen Christ.  We shout Hosanna and sing Hallelujah because Jesus conquered death and offers us eternal life.  And if things are good, that celebrating is fairly easy to do.  But what do we do when we are desperate for the hope and joy and good news of Easter and yet on Easter morning, it still feels as dark and bleak and hopeless as Good Friday?

How is Easter present when we still don’t have a job?  Or our pain won’t go away? Or the bank balance is still $0? Or the depression hasn’t lifted?  Or our heart still breaks? Or the cancer is still spreading?  Or your spouse’s betrayal still stings? Or your loved one’s addiction keeps wrecking havoc?  Or your grief still steals your breath away?

How do we celebrate then?  How do we muster the faith or the confidence or even the energy to praise God for what God has done, when that reality—the Resurrection story—couldn’t seem further from us?

Last night, I learned that my friends’ 1 -day old baby girl wasn’t strong enough to live.  And their loss broke my heart.  As I imagined their pain, I wondered how they would face Easter.  Would they hull up together and avoid the Hallelujahs or would they dare seek a worship service where the Gospel of hope and new life would stand starkly against their pain?  No matter how strong one’s faith in the resurrection, the promise of eternal life cannot take the place of cherishing those moments with your long awaited baby girl.  So, I wonder, what can Easter mean to them?  To me, it begs the question, how does Easter become real to any of us in the midst of true trial and pain?

I suppose, to answer that, we need to start somewhere.  So, we start in the Gospel of Luke with today’s lesson.  Maybe we can find truth, or hope, or comfort in the lives of the women or the apostles. 

Think about it this way, the women were followers of Christ. They had journeyed with him during his ministry. They had served him and been served by him. They had witnessed miracles and listened to the parables. They had heard his prophecies and been faithful to the end. They were there at the crucifixion and grieved him in the wake of his death. They wanted to honor him and do right by him, so they gathered the spices and got everything ready so they could prepare his body after the Sabbath was over and he was declared officially dead. 

They went to the tomb to anoint his body—his dead body.  They expected to do the normal burial rites and when they got there, Jesus’ body was gone. That wasn’t good news. Someone must have stolen the body and so they stand there wondering what happened? Where could the body have gone?  And then 2 angels—men dressed in dazzling white, clearly God’s messengers, appeared. And the women didn’t rejoice. They didn’t start to celebrate. They were terrified.  They fell to the ground in reverence and waited with fear and trembling for the message God had for them.  And what they heard was, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here. He is risen.” 

Wait. What?!  The living among the dead?  What are you talking about?  Jesus died.  We were there. He breathed his last. Then they laid him here. You must be mistaken. Our Jesus is dead. 

But the angels persisted.  Don’t you remember?  Jesus told you about this. Think back to Galilee.  He said the Son of Man would be handed over to sinners and crucified.  But on the third day he’d rise again.  Don’t you remember?

Then a wash of understanding as the pieces slowly fall into place.  Galilee.  Son of Man. Handed over. Crucified.  Yeah, we remember all of that.  After all, it came true.  We watched it happen.  But on the 3^rd day, he’d rise again.  On the third day, he’d rise again.  He’d rise again. He’s risen?!  He’s risen!  He rose again.  On the third day he rose again!

And as the story finally makes sense, the women run to the apostles and tell them the story. And they’re incredulous.  Not excited. Not overjoyed. Incredulous. The apostles think the women have to be lying.  They’ve lost their minds.  The accusation in Greek is that they’re delirious.  They’re nuts.  That’s what the disciples think. 

And their doubt makes sense to us.  I mean who would believe all of that?  It’s like believing a miracle.  And yet, despite their doubt, or maybe to satisfy it—Peter runs off to the tomb. He has to see for himself.  He either has to prove they’re lying or he has to reach out to touch the truth of the empty tomb for himself.  And off he goes. Only to find the tomb IS empty. Jesus is not there.  But Peter doesn’t leap on a bandwagon of Alleluias or start declaring, “Christ is Risen!” He’s amazed. He’s awestruck.  And he walks away. 

It feels a bit anti-climatic, especially compared with some of the other Gospel accounts, but maybe this one is just the one we need today.  Maybe as we confront pain and anger and failures and brokenness and dead-ends in our own lives, we need to see that the Easter story doesn’t wrap up with sunshine and rainbows.  The Easter story ends with reticence and doubt and confusion tied up with fear and awe.  For the disciples in this story, they don’t see Jesus.  They don’t stand face to face with the fullness of God’s promises. Instead, they stand face to face with the possibility that God has done something.  It’s been suggested by some decently reliable witnesses, but it hasn’t been confirmed.  The possibility of something good, at the very least, allows hope to begin to seep into the story.  It may not be hearty or shining or bright, but it’s there. Hope is there. It offers a spark in the midst of the darkness. 

Where the women and the disciples faced only pain and despair and grief, God offered a glimpse of something better.  God didn’t bowl them over with right answers, and winning lottery numbers, or repentant wrong-doers.  Instead, God silently crept into their story casting a glimmer of light on their shadowy doubts and dark corners. 

Maybe the Good News today isn’t loud and over-stated, but instead subtle, sometimes barely noticeable.  Maybe the Good News today is that we don’t have to pretend that Easter fixes everything that’s wrong in the world and in our lives.  Maybe instead, Easter means that God offers glimpses of hope in the midst of our trials.  Maybe we do leave still seeking a job, or waiting for the test results, or trying to work through the heartache, or resenting our co-worker, or pushing back against the darkness. But hopefully in the midst of those challenges, we can begin to see the tiny shimmers of Easter light.  Maybe we begin to believe the possibility that God will do something to help us. Maybe hope allows us to breathe just a little more easily with a little less worry and a little more conviction that God has not and will not forsake us.  Maybe today we will stand with the disciples and the women and at least begin to question if God isn’t rewriting our story, even beyond the believable.  Amen.

Entry of Triumph

Luke 19. Triumphal entry Sermon notes

3/24/13                    

·         History and value of Passover. 

·         People desperate to be saved [from Rome], celebrating God’s saving work in Egypt, asking God to do it again.

·         Jesus enters the scene

o   Hailed as king

o   Honored as king

o   Prophesied details

§  Green colt

§  Didn’t follow the social norms for a king, should have been a stallion

·         Celebrated by people as king (like Jehu from OT)

o   Threw their cloaks on the ground for him to walk on

·         Lauded by the disciples (a lot of them) with what is considered a “normal Passover greeting” OR a greeting for a king

o   “Blessed is the KING who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven.”

§  Not just words. Not just a greeting. Part of a Psalm. Psalm 118.  For the Jews the Psalms were like songs, to know them is like knowing our hymns.  If I sing part of a hymn, you can sing the rest of it. In a similar way, if a Jew quoted part of a Psalm, the rest of it would start to come to mind for the other people.  So in using this phrase from Psalm 118, it’s not just these words that are important, it’s also the rest of the Psalm.

·         Pharisees come in and tell Jesus, “Tell your people to stop!”

·         Jesus: If it weren’t them, it’d be the rocks.

o   The rocks would shout

o   The rocks would cry out

o   The most lifeless part of creation would come alive to make this proclamation

o   “HIS LOVE ENDURES FOREVER”

o   GOD IS COMING TO SAVE US!

o   GOD IS HERE!                              

·         And the response that comes: “Oh Shut Up!”

·         And it breaks Christ’s heart. 

o   “Good grief, you just don’t get it. I am the answer. You’re gathered here remembering who God was and what God did and praying or God to please save you, to release you from the grip of the Romans and yet when that answer comes, when that prayer is finally heard, you REFUSE to see God at work. The disciples are proclaiming healing and forgiveness and new life and acceptance and inclusion—the TRUE works of God—our lie source, the true peace makers of our world, and you’re so blinded, you’re so lost all you can think to say is, “Oh just make it stop!”

·         GOD IS HERE. HIS LOVE ENDURES FOREVER.

o   God has sent an answer. His love endures forever. I am here to bring peace. I have been bringing peace—to people, to bodies, to relationships, to communities, and yet you refuse to even stop to look. FINE!

o   If you want to keep your head in the sand, then stay there. See what happens. But remember this—I gave  you the path. God showed you where to go. We offered you the chance and you, in this moment, are refusing to go.  I hurt for you. My heart breaks or you.

o   I may sound angry or harsh, but it’s because I wanted something better for you. We want what’s best for you and I hate to see you suffer.  But you are free to make your own choices. That path, the one away from God, it leads only to destruction: famine, death, fear, hopelessness, war, bitterness, resentment.  Thos aren’t what God wants for you.  But that’s what’s down that road.  I hate to see you go that way. That’s why I came, to convince you to come back over here, to remind you what God has promised, but you’re so set in your ways. 

·         For most of us, I imagine this part of scripture is really dissatisfying. It is for me.  I imagine many of us are clamoring or their second chance.  We want to cry out on the Pharisees’ behalf. 

o   “But wait! God’s love ENDURES FOREVER! You can’t do this to them. Save them! Help them! The story can’t end this way.”

o   But it does. At last today. But let’s be clear—it’s not because Jesus forsakes them.  It’s not because God is all of the sudden indifferent.  THEY CHOSE THIS! THEY PICKED THIS PATH. THEY WALKED AWAY.

o   If we look at the story as a whole, the Old Testament and the New, God has offered 100s of second chances, so many that that’s what we now bank on.  We tell ourselves that this sin or that lie or this injustice or that prejudice is ok because God’s a God of love and there’s always a second chance. 

o   We flippantly say to God, “Yeah, not this time, I’ll catch ya next time. I promise next time it will be different. “

§  It’s as if what God offers us, and in turn asks of us, is worthless.  Not in our heads.  Of course not. We don’t actually think that grace and mercy and forgiveness are worthless. No. Of course not. And yet, often, when presented the opportunity, we just walk away from the path God has for us.  And by choosing away from God, or burying our heads in the sand and refusing to even look at righteousness, or peace, or justice, we have undervalued God’s gift for us.  We’ve counted it as worthless. Because honestly, if we really wanted it, wouldn’t we go after it with all we have and all we are?

·         Jesus was there with the Jews, the disciples, the Pharisees, all of them.  The face of God staring them in the face; the TRUE answer for peace knocking at their door and yet he didn’t fit their mold. He wasn’t the answer they anticipated, wasn’t what they wanted, or what they thought they needed. And so they pushed him away. The best of what God had to offer—deemed worthless--expendable.

·         The point for us is not “oh man they were clueless” or “how dare they?”  Our point should always lead us to self reflection—how closely does this resemble me?  Am I pleading and praying and waiting for God to answer and then refusing to follow when God tries to lead me?  Am I choosing my own path or have I chosen God’s? 

·         Do I value peace and justice and mercy and forgiveness and reconciliation and inclusion as invaluable or do I only use them when they come in handy?  Do I seek them when it’s hard, when it goes against the grain? Or only when they have the popular vote? 

o   We like to demonize the Pharisees as the bad guys. But the reality is they were faithful people stuck in the old views and expectations of God.  They were unwilling or unable to see the new things God was doing in Christ.  We can become like them when we refuse to veer from the path we’ve deemed as God’s and instead choose the path God deemed as God’s.

Matthew 2:1-12 The Magi

Sermon notes: 

Matthew 2:1-12

·         A familiar story of the Christmas holiday

·         Familiar take (use the congregation to highlight these points, have them tell you the story)

o   3 kings (Even though the scripture doesn’t identify how many men, only how many gifts)

o   Followed a star in the sky and came from the East

o   Brought gifts to the Christ child

§  Gold = for a king

§  Frankincense and Myrrh = embalming spices and oils, which foreshadow his death.

o   This familiar story asks us, “what do we bring to the Christ child?  What gifts of our own will we offer?  How we will recognize his kingship?  And the importance of his sacrificial death?

·         Less common take

o   “Magi” not kings.  Magi could have been wise men, but more commonly probably would have been astrologers.  So we have these zoroastrianists from the East who are assumed to be gentiles.  And yet they recognized this special sign and came to greet the King of the Jews.

o   That may sound like no big deal to us, but we need to remember that we are reading from the Gospel of Matthew and Matthew is a fairly traditional Jewish writer who writes to a Jewish audience.  He quotes and points to Jewish scripture far more than any other gospel writer. 

o   And here, at the forefront of his gospel, steeped in Jewish tradition is a story of gentile astrologers coming a very long distance to honor and bless the King of the Jews.

o   That’s highly unorthodox.  In Jewish perspective, the Messiah, God’s chosen and anointed one, was sent for them, to lead them, to deliver them. There weren’t strong notions of a deliverer of the world of a Savior for other peoples. The savior they awaited was to save the Israelites. 

o   And yet, somehow, in the middle of their story, these magi from the East show up.  And they aren’t there by chance.  They didn’t just happen to be passing by—they traveled explicitly for this purpose—to pay homage to the Christ child—to the king of the Jews.  And they came with gifts—expensive gifts loaded with value and loaded with meaning.  Who were these men to greet the Messiah?  Who were they to anticipate a Jewish baby?  They were outsiders. And they were outsiders who *got it* long before most anyone else. 

o   And to me, that’s a funny little irony that suggests this whole story is going to turn what we know and what we expect right on its head.

o   Even in the midst of the tradition tied up with Jewish prophecies and all that God promised to do and be is something unexpected.

§  And maybe it’s enough just to know that God did that—that the Magi were a strange and unexpected guest and that that in itself flips things on their head for the Jews.  But it’s rarely enough to leave things in the 1^st century.  It’s insufficient to say that’s their story, not ours.  At least when it comes to the Bible. Part of the reason the Bible is so powerful is because it relates to people of all ages, races, and notions from every century.  And it does that through the Holy Spirit keeping the stories relevant for us.

o   So, we are challenged to ask “how does this apply to me?” 

§  What traditional expectations are we holding onto?

§  Where have we become rigid in our beliefs?

§  Who have we decided are insiders and who are the outsiders?

§  And how have we read our tradition to mean that they won’t be able to make it in?  That who they are or what they’ve done excludes them from God’s grace or forgiveness or our acceptance and hospitality?

·         What we see from very early on in Matthew’s gospel, is that the Christ child will influence and affect more than those located within the tradition.  People will come to him, will see him and honor him even if they haven’t heard the prophecies, even if they haven’t been expecting him for generations.  People who don’t fit our notions of acceptable will offer him the best of what they have to offer.  They will be lead to him by a variety of roads and paths.  And while none of that fits our expectations, it fits God’s purpose and becomes ours to cherish and appreciate.  

·         And on this day when we celebrate Holy Communion, let us remember that though we have all come on different roads for different reasons, we are welcome here.  The Christ child was sent for each of us!  Praise God!