4th Sunday of Easter: April 29, 2012

Easter 4    “We love as we are loved by the Shepherd”   

 PREACHER: Pastor Erik Zingelman

 Acts 4:5–12,  1 John 3:16–24,  John 10:11-18 

     This morning I want to share two Stories with you; they are not my own.

     Babs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

     I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"  "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good."  "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"  "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."  "Good. Anything I can help you with?"  "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"  "No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."  "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"  "All I got's my prize marble here."  "Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."   "I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"  "Not zackley, but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."  "Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

     Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

     I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man who did more than sing in the church choir. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.  Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the church we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

     Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts - all very professional looking.

     They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.  Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

     Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

     "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them.  Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho "  With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

Hear the words of 1^st John again:  “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.”  It really doesn’t take all that much to make a profound impression and difference in the life of another person.

          A short story shared by a hospital chaplain.  Liliana called me to her room at three that afternoon.  "Chaplain," she said, "can I bother you to come and give me and my family communion tomorrow afternoon at two?"

          Liliana and I had had a great relationship since she had been admitted into the hospital five days ago.  She had talked endlessly of her children -- all eleven -- and their spouses and children.  Two were already widowed and one was divorced.  She knew what all the "grands" and "greats" were up to.  Liliana was a proud shepherd of her flock.

          She was also very honest about what was happening to her body and what her future held.  She was firm in her faith.  Liliana loved the Lord. "He loves me because he sure hears enough from me," she would always say.  She felt good about her faith.

          But she didn't feel good about her present condition.  Her dialysis sessions didn't go well and she had made a decision to stop treatments.  She had her daughter call the family; they would gather tomorrow and have communion as a family for the last time.

          I was nervous.  I wanted it to go just right.  I prepared the elements, prayed, and read a meditation I would share.

          The service at Liliana's hospital bed was beautiful.  Thirty-eight of us were crammed into her private room.  Tears flowed freely as Liliana told her children she was so blessed to see that they had all made it with so many of the "grands" coming also.  My own tears fell as I considered the words of institution.

          I looked at Liliana and she smiled at me.  "Thank you so much for doing this," she whispered.  She winked at me.  I continued, choking back tears as I considered Liliana, her family, and the words of holy communion.

          We all took communion.  We all shared the peace.  And we all cried.  As I blessed the group, I turned to Liliana and asked her if she had anything to say.  She lifted her hand, looked around, and said, "You have all been wonderful to me.  I love you so much and you have loved me so much.  God will bless you forever for that."

          To this day, I cannot preside over communion without recalling the feeling I had giving communion to Liliana and her family.  Liliana, the shepherd, had blessed us all by her request, by her faith, and by her words.  God, the shepherd of all, was surely present in this place.

Listen to John’s words once again:   “And this is his commandment that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.”

          Each of you has been given the gift of the Shepherd’s love.  Now go and share that love so that all may come to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.

Third Sunday of Easter: April 22, 2012

THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER: April 22, 2012

Rogation Day, Earth Day, New Member Sunday

Luke 24:36-48

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

As I prepared to preach this week, I was reminded of a V.I.P. –a Very Important Pastor—who had a huge impact on my life. Pastor Bob (*not his real name) was the campus chaplain for the United Ministry Center at Oklahoma State University, a joint ministry of Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and the UCC. I got to know Pastor Bob because my church had given me scholarship money to be the “Peace and Justice Intern” at the United Ministry Center…and I took it the money, even though I was most definitely planning to be a world-famous concert pianist. Or, if that didn’t work out, maybe a doctor. Definitely NOT a pastor.

The internship was a great experience, except for one thing: Pastor Bob liked to push my buttons.

It was Pastor Bob who told me that Mary Magdalene was the first apostle, being the first witness to the resurrection and all. I scoffed at this, because I had been going to church my whole life and never once in Sunday school did Mary Magdalene show up on a list of apostles! Later, however, it was this conversation that made me consider a vocation as a pastor myself.

Pastor Bob also gave me a book about icons and spirituality which talked about them as “windows into heaven”. I secretly loved this book! I devoured it…and then vowed never to show it to my grandmother. She, and most other Lutherans I knew, would have considered icons to be far “too Catholic”.  (If you want to see how I feel about icons today, you are invited into my office after worship for a little art show.)

And it was Pastor Bob who told me about some early Christians—well, heretics really, called Gnostics or docetists—who believed that Jesus didn’t really have a physical body, because bodies were matter and matter…was considered to be inherently evil. But if Jesus didn’t have a body, then he couldn’t have died. And if he couldn’t die, he most definitely could never have been resurrected. Yes, there were eyewitness accounts from his disciples and others, but these guys theorized that Jesus only appeared to walk among us. In reality, he just skimmed the surface—not quite touching, but levitating a hair off the ground. Jesus was, in their view, a sort of ancient Criss Angel or David Blaine, performing illusions for the disciples and the crowds. It was all merely figurative: “The Word made flesh”; “This is my body” and, especially, the resurrection.

I don’t remember what prompted this conversation with Pastor Bob about Gnosticism, docetism and heretical views of the resurrection. But I do remember that it made me reconsider what I believed about Easter. I started to read the Bible more carefully. Suddenly, I noticed all the places in Scripture where Jesus seemed less like a superhero or an icon with a halo, and more like a flesh and blood man. This is especially striking in the scenes after the resurrection.

Take the Gospel lesson for this morning, for example. Jesus appears to the disciples once again after being raised. And the disciples, like the Gnostics several centuries later, were having a really hard time believing he could be alive. And who could blame them? It was an unbelievable situation. But Jesus, standing among them, says:

"Don't be upset, and don't let all these doubting questions take over. Look at my hands; look at my feet - it's really me. Touch me. Look me over from head to toe. A ghost doesn't have muscle and bone like this." As he said this, he showed them his hands and feet. They still couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was too much; it seemed too good to be true. They gave him a piece of leftover fish they had cooked. He took it and ate it right before their eyes. (Luke 24, The Message Version)

Jesus, proving that he was truly flesh and blood (rumbling stomach and all!) ate a piece of fish right before their eyes, so that they would be witnesses to his resurrection.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

We proclaim Christ crucified and risen—and this matters. It matters that we believe Jesus was really, truly raised.  It matters that Jesus walked with real feet on the real earth, both before and after the resurrection.

It matters because Jesus didn’t treat the earth as a dead end, no-stoplight town: a good place to be from but nowhere you’d want to go back to.

It matters because Jesus wasn’t looking for an escape plan from this planet, and neither should we.

The resurrection matters because in the beginning, God made the earth and the sky and the trees and the animals and the people and then she said “It is good!” Amen?

And the real, bodily, earthly resurrection matters on this day, April 22, as the world celebrates Earth Day. There are, of course, many good reasons to care for the earth and all its creatures. We enjoy clean air and water, for one thing. And we might like to live here for a few thousand years longer, too!

But as Christians who proclaim the resurrection of Jesus Christ, every day is Earth Day. Every day is Earth Day for Christians because Jesus Christ was born of an earthly mother, ate food grown from the earth, knelt and prayed on the earth, got his feet dirty with dust from the earth, and suffered and died on a cross that was planted in the earth.

Above all, every day is Earth Day for Christians because Jesus Christ, son of God, wholly divine and worthy of praise, was raised from the dead to walk the earth again. The resurrection of Jesus sanctifies the earth and makes all of creation undeniably holy and worthy of our care and protection.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

What does the earthly resurrection of Jesus mean for us today?

It means we are committed to being witnesses of the bodily, earthly resurrection of Jesus.

We are witnesses to the Good News that all matter is good. The earth is good, animals are good, trees are good, and all bodies are good and holy! Amen!

We are witnesses by committing to prayerful care of the earth, from recycling to carpooling to church to choosing electronic church newsletters in lieu of paper. Amen!

We are witnesses when we are good stewards of the resources given to us: sharing our building space with Scouts and PADS and the community choir and HeadStart. We are witnesses when we share land, labor and love to grow food in the Fruits of Faith Garden for the hungry. Amen!

We are witnesses when together with our denomination, the ELCA, we ensure that the whole earth is a safe and healthy place for all people—making malaria history, diggingwells for safe drinking water, walking with the Haitians as they rebuild their country, and resisting violence and oppression wherever it occurs. Amen!

Sisters and brothers, we proclaim Christ, crucified and risen. He’s not a ghost! He’s no illusionist! He is alive…and thus it was written, that the Messiah was to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to the whole earth. You are witnesses of all these things. Amen! 

Easter Sunday: April 8, 2012

EASTER SUNDAY 2012: April 8, 2012

Mark 16:1-8

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

16When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. ²And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. ³They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?”

I must confess, I don’t much like the way this story begins. It seems to start with an all-too-familiar fairytale scenario: Once upon a time there were three helpless women, walking to the tomb and worrying, “Oh me, oh my, who will move that GREAT BIG STONE for us?”

You can probably guess that a female senior pastor isn’t too fond of stories that make women into powerless waifs! But then, perhaps I’m reading a bit too much into these verses. Perhaps my 21st century sensitivities are making Mary Magdalene, Mary mother of James, and Salome seem here a bit like the ““Real Housewives of Jerusalem”.

Because when we step back and consider this Gospel account of the resurrection again, it becomes clear that these three women are anything but delicate.

First, there’s Mary Magdalene, a devoted follower of Jesus and the most important woman disciple in his movement. Jesus healed Mary of seven demons, and she was so close to him that she remained at the foot of the cross with his mother. She was a force to be reckoned with—and that was before she endured centuries of being defamed as a “loose woman” in literature.

And with Mary that Easter morning was Salome, who is traditionally thought to be one of the midwives present at the birth of Jesus. Not only is she thought to have been in the stable that night in Bethlehem, but she is also revered as the “believing midwife”, the second person in the world to recognize Jesus’ birth as miraculous.

And then there’s Mary, mother of James. Now, she is generally assumed to be the same Mary of Clopas who stayed at the foot of the cross with the other Marys. But elsewhere in Scripture she’s also known as Mary, mother of James and Joseph, and Mary, mother of James and Joses, as well as Mary, mother of James the younger. And what this tells me is that she was not only present at the crucifixion, but was also the mother of between two and four boys, which makes her a very strong woman indeed.

But perhaps the thing to notice about the way Mark tells the story of Jesus’ resurrection is not that three strong women were the first to go to the tomb, but that three women were the first to go to the tomb. Men had the task of crucifixion and of laying the executed Jesus in the tomb, but it was women who came back to anoint the body with spices. This fact always reminds me of a scene in the best chick movie of all time, “Steel Magnolias”, in which M’Lynn says, after the death of her daughter: “Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something...but I realize as a woman how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.”

And so it was that three women—Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome—women who had already been with Jesus at the sacred moments of his birth and his death, were also the ones arriving at the tomb on Sunday morning to care for his body. These were no shrinking violets or real housewives. These were devoted followers of Jesus who were determined to see that—at least in death—he was given proper respect.

But even if they were women of steel, the fact remains that the stone blocking the entrance to the tomb was quite large. They had good reason to worry about how it would get moved! Plus, the authorities had executed Jesus publicly. His followers were being watched, and it had been reported that guards were placed at the entrance of the tomb to prevent the body from being stolen. It would be difficult for anyone to gain access to Jesus.

So imagine their surprise when, upon arrival, the women saw that the stone had already been moved! After all their discussion and worrying on the way there—after doubting, second-guessing, and stressing, “When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.”

The stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back! The door to the tomb was open, and now nothing stood in their way!

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed , alleluia!

Like the women at the tomb that Easter morning, we often think we need to go to great lengths to gain access to Jesus. We assume we’ll need great strength or great wisdom to see him. We expect we might need special power or privilege to get past the guards. Our life experience has shown us that knowing the right people is usually the way to get doors to open and stones to roll back. And even those of us who have heard the Good News many times before start to wonder if we’re good enough, if we’re smart enough, or if we’re the right kind of people. After all, we’re just women, we’re just children, we’re just visitors, we’re just Christmas and Easter Christians, doubters, sinners, and nobodies trying to see Jesus. Who are we to stand in the presence of God?

But on Easter morning, each and every year, we hear again the amazing Good News that the stone has already been rolled back from the entrance to the tomb. Nothing stands between us and Jesus now! No powers or principalities could keep him in the tomb, and nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus!

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

Hear the Good News that the stones you thought could never be moved, the obstacles in your life which seem insurmountable, and the sins that stood between you and God—they’ve already been rolled back.

That mistake that you’ve never forgiven yourself for? It’s been rolled back. Say it with me! It’s been rolled back.

That promise you couldn’t keep? It’s been rolled back!

Your debt? It’s been rolled back!

Your doubt? It’s been rolled back!

Your sin and sadness? It’s been rolled back!

Grief and anger, divorce and depression—whatever mess you’ve expected to remain sitting there between you and Jesus—hear me say to you today that it has been rolled back. Because Christ is risen, not even death stands between you and God. Amen!

The powers-that-be thought they had rid the world of Jesus and his radical message of love, mercy and forgiveness, but on Easter morning we celebrate that God’s love is bigger than the authorities’ fear. God’s mercy is wider than any obstacle in our path. The stone has been rolled back from the entrance to the tomb, and Jesus is no longer there! He is on the loose in the world, appearing even now to all those who seek him.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

Easter Vigil: April 7, 2012

EASTER VIGIL 2012: April 7, 2012

John 20:1-18

Preacher: Pastor Carrie Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Alleluia, Christ is risen!

Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

In case you hadn’t heard already…I love Easter Vigil. I love it, because on this one night of the year, we have the opportunity to step outside our routine, to leave behind the daily grind, to forget alarm clocks and appointment reminders, naptime and deadlines, and to enter God’s story.

Earlier today we may have been doing chores, mowing the lawn, coloring eggs, or working a Saturday shift. But on this night, when we arrive at the Vigil, we find ourselves, young and old, visitors and old-timers, choir members and back-pew sitters, all gathered around a blazing fire. And then, starting with creation, we become part of the stories that have formed our understanding of the world (and of God) since we were tiny children.

This is the night, we proclaim, when God made the whole world: the earth and the water, the sky and the stars, the creeping things, flying things, and swimming things, and especially you and me.

This is the night when God saved Noah from the flood, rescuing the world from its self-destruction, and giving us the rainbow as a promise to never, ever, send such a flood again.

This is the night when Abraham and Isaac went up the mountain in obedience to God’s command, and while there were overwhelmed by God’s abundant mercy.

This is the night when God parted the waters of the sea so Moses and the Israelites could cross!

This is the night when Miriam danced, singing praises to God!

This is the night when the prophet Isaiah wrote: Ho, all who thirst, come to the waters!

This is the night when Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (also known as Rack, Shack, and Benny) refused to bow down to the king, and found out that with God on their side, not a spark of flame from the fiery furnace could touch them.

And this is the night when we gather to hear again how Jesus Christ—born of a virgin, visited by kings, followed by fishermen, crucified by Pilate and buried in a tomb—was raised by God on the third day, giving us all the promise of new life.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

And this therefore the night when we hear how Jesus, after he had risen from the grave, appeared to Mary, calling her by name.

Mary Magdalene, devoted follower of Jesus, felt lost when she arrived to the tomb and couldn’t find his body. Her despair only increased when she saw a man she thought was the gardener (or possibly a grave-robber)—until he called her by name. Jesus called Mary by name, and in that moment she knew that this was not the end of the story. She knew, when she heard that familiar voice, that Jesus, crucified and risen, had taken away the finality of death. And on this night, we, too, become witnesses to the Good News that death does not have the final word.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

When Jesus called Mary by name that morning, he invited her into the resurrection story. In the same way, we are each called by name and welcomed into new life with the risen Christ in our baptisms.

Tonight, when they were brought to the water, Caden and Ryan heard these words: “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” In baptism, Caden and Ryan have been called by name and have been claimed as God’s beloved children. They are now part of God’s story, and we rejoice that they will have a lifetime of hearing the story of God’s redeeming work in the world, and knowing they are part of it.

Baptizing during the Easter Vigil, often after months or even years of preparation, is a very ancient tradition. It’s also traditional at this service to read the famous Easter sermon of St. John Chrysostom. St. John Chrysostom wrote this sermon in the 4^th century and meant it as instructions for the new Christian converts who were being baptized during that vigil service.

In keeping with that tradition, and in honor of Caden and Ryan’s baptisms tonight, I will read this short Easter sermon now.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Are there any who are devout lovers of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!

Are there any who are grateful servants?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary with fasting?
Let them now receive their wages!

If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour,
let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour,
let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss.
And if any delayed until the ninth hour,
let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.
For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him that toiled from the first.

To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.
Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike receive your reward;
rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!
You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!

Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one.
Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith.
Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.

Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.

Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.
He destroyed Hell when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.

Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."
Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.

Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.

O death, where is thy sting?
O Hell, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, o death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!

Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!


The Easter sermon of John Chrysostom (circa 400 AD)

Good Friday: April 6, 2012

GOOD FRIDAY 2012

April 6, 2012

PREACHER:

Pastor Carrie Smith

John 18:1-19:42

“Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. ²⁶When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ ²⁷Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.”

♪Jesus, keep me near the cross;

there a precious fountain,

free to all, a healing stream,

flows from Calvary's mountain.

Refrain
In the cross, in the cross,

be my glory ever,

till my raptured soul

shall find rest beyond the river.

It’s difficult to picture Mary, the mother of Jesus, standing near the cross. How does a mother watch a son die? How did she not lash out with anger at those who were causing him pain? How did she survive those six long hours as he suffered there before her?

Scripture doesn’t tell us how Mary felt, or what she said, as she stayed there near the cross. We don’t know if she stood silently, if she wailed loudly, or if she argued with the soldiers. We only know that she was accompanied there by her sister, by Mary Magdalene, and by the disciple Jesus loved. The rest is left to our imagination.

But for most of us, we don’t have to stretch our imaginations too far to know what those hours were like. If we’ve lived life at all, we’ve known suffering. If we’ve loved at all, we’ve known loss. And perhaps we can therefore relate to Mary’s need to stay there, near the cross, and to experience each moment, even when those moments are almost unbearable.

In my experience as a pastor, I’ve stood with others who, like Mary, remained steadfast at the foot of the cross: Parents who sit vigil at a hospital bed for days. Spouses who act as caregivers for ailing partners, year after year. Families who stand by loved ones struggling with mental illness or addiction. Friends who stay with the grief-stricken through long nights of doubt and sorrow.

I don’t know Mary’s pain of losing a son in a public execution. I have, however, lost much-loved and longed-for babies. My spouse and I have suffered three miscarriages over the years. And while I’m grateful I don’t know what it’s like to watch my child suffer and die like Mary did, I do know what it’s like to ache for my child. And I know what it’s like to want to hang on to the moment, and to stay present at the cross, no matter how painful it seems.

For me, it was the last day of being pregnant that I wished would last forever. I would cling to those hours of hope before the lab tests came back--dreaming of names and planning for the future. And then, even when things looked grim, I would still cling to each moment, still pregnant with hope, making bargains with God, if only my child could be saved. I would have endured bed-rest for months. I would have taken vitamins, injected hormones, and suffered anything necessary for a successful pregnancy. “Jesus, keep me near the cross”, I prayed. I would have stayed there forever, if it could have made any difference.

What was Mary thinking in those hours at the foot of the cross? If Jesus, the Son of God, felt forsaken on the cross, how must Mary have felt? After all, the God who had chosen her for this role as blessed virgin, theotokos, mother of our Lord, was now the same God who allowed her beloved son to be crucified. Did she bargain with God? Did she pray for more time, or did she just pray his suffering would end? Did she, like Jesus, feel abandoned and alone?

Mary may have felt alone, but Scripture tells us that Jesus remembered her. Even in his suffering, he cared for his mother. He didn’t send her away so she wouldn’t have to see. He didn’t tell her not to cry or not to be angry. And, most importantly, he didn’t magically take away her pain and suffering. But seeing her there, his heart was turned toward her and toward the disciple he loved, and from the cross he provided for their mutual care and companionship. “Woman, here is your son.” he said. Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.”

This moment is so important to Christian tradition that it is honored as one of the Stations of the Cross. We linger here, at this point in the story, because it’s a moment that tells us much about Jesus, about the cross, and about our own suffering.

Caring for his mother and the beloved disciple in his last moments, Jesus shows us that in death, as in life, he was about giving to others. From the cross he gave Mary a new son to care for her. In the same way, he gives us all the promise of new life.

Reaching out in love even as he struggled to breathe and to withstand great physical pain, Jesus shows us that the cross doesn’t have the last word. No matter what the powers and principalities of this world may do to us, nothing can take away our humanity or destroy our spirit: neither oppression, nor disease, and nor even death.

And above all, joining his mother and beloved friend in a bond of companionship , he taught us something about our own suffering. When we are standing at the foot of the cross, facing something unimaginable—the death of a loved one, a medical diagnosis, a life crisis, or the death of a relationship—Jesus is there, too. He knows our suffering. He looks upon us with love. And he provides for us, joining us together in the bonds of community, in mutual care, in prayer, and in love for one another.

French poet Paul Claudel wrote: “Jesus did not come to explain suffering nor to take it away; he came to fill it with his presence.” As we gather tonight near the cross, standing vigil with Mary and her sister, Mary Magdalene and the disciple Jesus loved, we pray for the strength to remain here. And we give thanks to God for Jesus Christ, who knows our suffering; who is with us in our pain; and who by his suffering and death has redeemed the world. Amen.

Maundy Thursday 2012: April 5, 2012

MAUNDY THURSDAY 2012

April 5, 2012

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

“No shirt, no shoes, no problem.”

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

When my spouse and I were living in Texas during graduate school, finding cheap entertainment for toddlers was my never-ending quest. Cheap, child-friendly, air-conditioned fun—this was the Holy Grail for a stay-at-home mom of two boys. And then, one day, I found it! It was just a little coffee shop inside a much larger store, but one very intelligent store manager had placed not one, but two “Thomas the Tank Engine” train tables in the middle of this coffee shop. Yes, two train tables, and with all the accessories! I could almost hear the angels sing when I found this little piece of heaven.

But in order to enjoy this bit of paradise with my young children, I had to overlook its surroundings. You see, this particular coffee shop was nestled inside the cultural center of Waco, Texas: The Compass Christian Lifestyle Superstore. This place was, in short, the Wal-Mart of Christianity. You could get Bibles in nearly every translation, of course, but you could also purchase Christian-themed shirts, candles, books, toys, and endless home-school supplies. There were Christian breath mints and Christian casserole dishes and Christian alternatives to nearly every household product you could imagine. The guy behind the check-out counter had hipster Christian hair and lots of Jesus tattoos. The girl who made my coffee read her pink study Bible between helping customers. As a pastor’s wife, I should have felt right at home in this environment!

But sitting near those lovely train tables, drinking an over-priced latte as my boys happily played, it seemed as though the store whispered to me: “By this they will know that you are a disciple…if you buy this cross necklace…if you wear this Jesus t-shirt…if you show your kids this video…if you listen to this worship music…if you look just like us!”

In other words, this place gave me the creeps. The Christian Lifestyle Superstore, was at the same time an oasis for a tired mom and a desert of discipleship (simul justus et peccatur!) Eager to follow Jesus, we take the cross of his suffering and paint it, bedazzle it, and decorate our homes with it. We take the Word of God and put it on tins of breath mints. Looking for love and hoping to belong, we surround ourselves with tasteful (and not-so-tasteful) Christian accessories. And somehow, in all our eagerness to follow him, we’ve utterly missed the commandment Jesus left with his disciples at the Last Supper: “By this will people know you are my disciples: if you have love for one another.”

You see, on the night in which he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus sat at the table with his closest friends and shared a meal with them. And when the meal was over, he stood up, took off his formal clothes, tied a towel around his waist, and proceeded to wash their feet. It was an act of love they couldn’t even begin to process while it was happening. The disciples whispered to one another around the table, wondering what it all meant, until Jesus assured them: “I know you don’t understand now what I’m doing, but later you will get it.” Our love of the Christian Lifestyle Superstore and what it offers makes one wonder how long it will take before we finally understand what Jesus meant. “By this shall people know you are my disciples,” said Jesus, “if you have love for one another.” He didn’t say anything about t-shirts.

Now before we go any further, I must confess to you that just last week I purchased not one, but two t-shirts at a performance of my favorite Christian band. I’m not at all opposed to wearing my faith on my sleeve! But on Maundy Thursday in particular, we have the opportunity to reflect on what it really means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. This day, which takes its name, Maundy, from the Latin “mandatum”, meaning “command”, honors the new commandment our Lord gave at that last meal. He didn’t command his disciples to wear a uniform. He didn’t say a word about sandals or cross necklaces, and certainly nothing about Jesus t-shirts or even clergy collars. Jesus, as he prepared to leave his loved ones, instead commanded his followers to embrace a lifestyle that can’t be bought at any big box superstore. “If you want people to know you love me,” he said, “Love one another.”

The twentieth-century saint and activist Dorothy Day once said, ““God meant for things to be much easier than we have made them”. When it comes to loving one another, not a truer statement could be made. We’ve messed up love to a spectacular degree! We argue about who is worthy of love and who can love whom. We look for love in all the wrong places—in food, in accomplishments, in money, and in popularity. And we refuse to believe, in spite of the evidence before us, that God could love us as much as Jesus says.

All this makes it very hard for us to hear Christ’s new commandment. What does it mean to love one another, if we have such a hard time loving ourselves? How can I love my neighbor, if I don’t like her very much? What if I don’t feel very loving? Can I just buy the t-shirt instead?

Jesus must have known we’d have a hard time hearing these words, even words plainly spoken, so he gave us a visual aid we couldn’t miss. Standing up after dinner, removing his outer cloak and tying a towel around his waist, Jesus did more than give us a clever idea for a once-a-year worship service. He showed us that love is getting off our seats and doing something. Love is taking off the three-piece-suit and putting on a servant’s apron. Love is taking risks and doing the unexpected or the unaccepted. Love is dealing with the most unpleasant parts of others: dirty feet, dirty secrets, messy lives, and other things we’d rather hide inside our shoes.

Seeing their teacher on the floor washing feet surely got the disciples’ attention! But this was more than a lesson on how to be better people. The Son of God, kneeling on the floor in the role of servant, was providing a commentary on his own impending death. He gave the disciples a preview of what was to come. Out of love for the whole world, Jesus would soon shed his power, privilege, and authority in order to die a criminal’s death on a cross. And because of this gift—because Jesus loved us to the end—we can love one another.

Yes, it’s just like that song you learned in Vacation Bible School! We love, because God first loved us. God’s radical love for us, seen most clearly in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, frees us from all that wasted time looking for love in all the wrong places. In that freedom, we can love one another as he loved us. And by this will the world will know that we are his disciples.

Bishop Munib Younan of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land tells this story:

“One day a Muslim shopkeeper in the Old City of Jerusalem stopped me as I was walking to my office at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer. ‘Look at that woman over there,’ he said. ‘I can tell she is a Christian.’ I asked the man, ‘How do you know that?’ And he replied, ‘Because she is carrying that handicapped child, and she takes care of handicapped children that are not her own. You Christians are better than we are.’ I told him that we Christians are not better than Muslims, but we practice sacrificial love because our Lord Jesus gave himself for us on the cross.” (www.elcjhl.org)

Bishop Younan makes it clear that the point is not to compare Christians to Muslims, or to people of other faiths, or to people of no faith. We love, not to be better people, and not to “one-up” our neighbor, but to follow the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to live lives that bear witness to his sacrificial love for us. In spite of what the Christian Lifestyle Superstore tries to sell us, being a Christian isn’t about having the right accessories. By this alone shall people know we are disciples: if we have love for one another.

Let us pray: Everlasting God, your Son Jesus Christ girded himself with a towel and washed his disciples’ feet; grant us the will to be the servant of others as he was servant of all, who gave up his life and died for us, yet lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever. Amen. (A New Zealand Prayer Book, p. 604)