June 11, 2017

Gospel: Matthew 28:16-20          

1^st Reading: Genesis 1:1-2:4a      

2^nd Reading: 2 Corinthians 13:11-13

                As we’re going through my grandma’s things, my mom found a diary of hers from when she was about 9 years old.  She writes about her mama letting her roller skate on the porch and going to visit relatives in Iowa for the summer.  Precious stuff! It is a little glimpse into how she saw the world and what was important to her.  It is interesting to think of life in the 1930s and 40s.  And it is interesting to think of what experiences made her who she is, she who shaped who we are.

                The reading from Genesis is a little like the diary of God.  It tells us what is important to God and some of God’s activities.  It tells a little about how God sees the world and how God sees us, God with whom it all began and who continually shapes us.  On Trinity Sunday we attempt to explain and understand some glimpse of who God is, what matters to God, where we came from, who we are, and what is our purpose.  On Trinity Sunday we stand in the mystery of who God is and who we are.

                The word Trinity is found nowhere in the Bible, but it is a way of making sense of the complexity and relationality of God.  The Israelites had something unique in the ancient world, and that is monotheism, belief in one God.  No more appeasing multiple gods, trying to keep up with sacrifices and offerings, trying not to make one jealous by paying too much attention to another, trying to guess which might be the one who could help.  So here comes a religion with one God.  One God made everything.  One God has one intention for us all.  One God is God of both darkness and light, looks after people and animals and the cosmos, is all-knowing, all-seeing, and all-powerful.  And as the story of God unfolds, we find that this one God can be viewed as three persons of one being, having three modes, that we know of. 

                I’ve struggled with how to teach this to my child.  Jesus is God.  Jesus is God’s son.  And it gets so confusing in the Bible when Jesus prays to God.  Is he praying to himself?  How do these two persons of the Trinity communicate with one another?  Don’t they already know what each other is thinking?  Are the prayers for the sake of us all who are overhearing them?  If they appear in different modes, do they each take on limits?  I say, that as a whole God is all-powerful, which means having the choice of whether to use those powers or not.  This is already beyond what a kid can begin to understand and we adults are right there, unable to grasp the concept of the Trinity. 

                We’ve got God the Creator, an artist in no hurry at all, painting and sculpting the heavens and the earth, speaking life into being, interrelationships and interdependence, redundancy rather than efficiency, covering the jobs that nature does several times over.  We’ve got God the Son, the word that was in the beginning, moving over the waters, made flesh in Jesus, who lived God’s love on earth, who died and rose again and makes us part of God’s family.  We’ve got the Holy Spirit, Sophia wisdom, the breath of God, the Advocate, who we have with us when Jesus returns to God the creator.

                So what does God’s diary tell us about who God is and who we are?

                God made all things good.  Sometimes it is easy to forget, because we get so caught up in the idea of sin and all the wrong we do, that God made us good  and very good.  The good is in relationship to all the other parts, accepting responsibility and limits, and interrelatedness.  God mentions so many times the goodness of creation, and when humans are created, there is no special pronouncement, but only when the whole of creation is considered, God declares the whole of it very good.

                God made us in God’s image and likeness.  We don’t know if this is a likeness and appearance or in creativity or in responsibility or in tenderness, or all of the above, or something else entirely.  But what an honor and responsibility to resemble God in some way!  When we see ourselves, we must contemplate who God is and what the resemblance must be.

                God made us to rest. Only the sabbath, the day of rest, is called holy in this Genesis story.  There is something very important here. If God needed to rest, certainly, we do, too.  We are not meant to wear ourselves out by constant movement, but we have the invitation to care for ourselves and each other and this earth, to ponder God’s world, God’s creation, to breathe, to listen and pray and sing, to see how God sees as God rests.

                God makes all things new.  Not only did God create the world anew long ago, but every day, there is newness.  There is no day when we can predict what will happen.  There is no day when we are the same as we were the day before.  Every day is a new beginning, created anew by God.  We can picture God once again speaking over the waters and finding some order in the chaos and sending light and plants and animals and forming us, giving us another chance to be the people God created us to be.

                The reading from second Corinthians is a kind of diary of God’s people as the church was forming.  It was a statement about what is most important, that community matters, that we shouldn’t squabble about things that don’t matter, that we should put others first, that we need each other.  It is another beginning, God making the world anew, creating us again into the body of Christ.  It was a reminder that being powerful wouldn’t look exactly like people thought it would, that it would mean giving up power.  It was a reminder that it would not be traditional strength, by might, that accomplished all that God had in mind, it was the strength of love, of relationship and connection with God and creation.

                And finally, we come across the diary of the disciples.  The women at the tomb tell the other disciples to meet Jesus at the mountain of the transfiguration.  When it seemed like it would be the end, it was another new beginning.  When they got there Jesus told them to make disciples of all nations.  This message of Jesus and his love was not for a few any more.  Now the apprentices of Jesus are charged with going out to all the earth, baptizing, washing, including, bringing new life to all nations, every person invited to love and community, revealing to each one their part in the story. 

Jesus says to them, “I will be with you always to the end of the age.”  In other words, as we are become Christ’s body in the world, we are not alone, but God goes with us giving us strength and love to share with all.  Even in death, Jesus is with us, raising us to eternal life and making us new again.

We can’t understand the mind of God.  We can’t understand the Trinity, just like I will never understand all the experiences and gifts and complexity of what made my Grandma who she is.  I can catch glimpses and I can let go of what I don’t know and I can feel her love for me and for many.  Multiply this experience too many times to consider and we can start to realize just how much we don’t know with God.  But when we let go of needing to understand and let ourselves ponder the memories we have , maybe we can embrace the mystery.  When we look around us at this earth God created, we can feel close to God, even if we can’t understand God in all God’s complexity.

The Bible is less of a diary than it is the writings of a group of people trying to understand themselves and their place in the world.  We are the all nations that Jesus was telling the Disciples to go to.  And we become the disciples going out to all nations to do what Jesus did, to love, because God is love.  We could do much worse than to love what and who God loves.  We know God will be present in our love.  We were made by God.  We were made by love.  And we were made for love, for relationship and compassion and interdependence on each other, on God, on creation.  And the scriptures offer a vision that where we are going is very similar to where we came from, a vision in which we live closely with our Creator and fellow creatures in unity and love.  There are many ways we can know God better.  We can read the scriptures.  We can look for clues about God around us.  By far the best way is to receive and give love, the way God does as God creates and recreates us, the way Jesus did as he makes us into his beloved family, and the way the Holy Spirit does as she empowers and equips us for relationship and connection with each other and with God. God is love.  We are love.  All is love. Amen.

Pentecost

           Interactive sermon  

            In today’s readings, the Holy Spirit comes to Jesus’ followers.  First they heard the sound like a wind storm.  What would that sound like?  Can you make the sound of a wind storm?  I think it was louder than that!  Then each of them had something rest on them like a tongue of fire.  Who here is a Jesus-follower? You and you and you!  You each get a flame, one for each of you.  Each person here has one, too, because each person has the Holy Spirit. 

                Why do you think the Holy Spirit was like a flame?  What is a flame like?  Hot, powerful, changing, emitting light.  Have you ever heard someone say, “He was so excited he was on fire.”  That means that person was energetic and lively about something.  What are you excited for?  What are you on fire about?  Jesus was on fire for justice and love.  He was excited about making sure that people had enough food and were healed and were part of community in relationship with others.  He gave us the Holy Spirit so we would be on fire for some of the same things he is excited and on fire about.

                Can you find some flames and pictures of flames around the church this morning?

                When the people received the Holy Spirit, they had abilities and powers from God to help them share the good news of God’s love.  They started to be able to speak in different languages and understand people who spoke in different languages.  They started to see things the way God sees things.  Started to dream the same kinds of dreams that God has.  Some of you might remember dreams

                you have at night while you are sleeping.  There is another kind of dream that people have when they have hopes for the future.  Maybe you’ve heard Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.  He wasn’t speaking of a dream he had while he was sleeping, but a hope he had in his heart that someday his kids who had dark brown skin could walk with someone who had light skin and they could be friends, and how people would work for peace together, and how people wouldn’t judge each other but love each other.  This is the kind of dream that God dreams and that people begin to dream, too, when they have the Holy Spirit.  God wrote some of God’s dreams in the Bible, but also gives them to people like you and me and all these people.

                I’d like to invite each person to write on their flame their hope and dream for this world or this neighborhood.  When someone has one, hold it up and one of the kids will come get it and we’ll tape it to these balloons to remind us of the Holy Spirit with us in community all around us and within us.

                Dreams are powerful.  They can motivate us, or cause us to take action, to work toward that dream.  There is another phrase, “To light a fire under someone.”  That means to get them moving.  God wants to light a fire under us, to get us moving toward justice and love, and one of the ways God does that is by sharing God’s exciting dreams for all creation.

May 28, 2017

Gospel: John 17:1-11                      

1^st Reading: Acts 1:6-14                 

2^nd Reading: 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11

                Some people are fond of saying, “Whenever God closes a door, he opens a window.”  It isn’t my favorite saying.  I don’t think of God as closing doors or manipulating human lives like that.  I know sometimes we wonder why certain paths are closed to us or why people cut us out of their lives or why people die.  Maybe it gives us some comfort to attribute it to God.  And maybe it is good that we look from that closed door to see what might be opening up in our lives in another area, knowing the path isn’t closed completely, but there are other ways to get where we are going, even though crawling through a window is kind of a weird way of getting someplace.  Maybe it is just about getting some fresh air when the door gets closed! 

                Sometimes when a door closes, before the window opens, we stand in a kind of liminal space of disorientation and transition, a time of wondering what is coming next.

According to Wickipedia, “In anthropology, liminality (from the Latin word līmen, meaning "a threshold"^[1]) is the quality of ambiguity or disorientation that occurs in the middle stage of rituals, when participants no longer hold their pre-ritual status but have not yet begun the transition to the status they will hold when the ritual is complete. During a ritual's liminal stage, participants "stand at the threshold"^[2] between their previous way of structuring their identity, time, or community, and a new way, which the ritual establishes.”

                The Disciples are at a threshold or liminal point, an indefinite time of transition, in the first reading for this morning.  Jesus ascends, and they stand there looking up with gaping mouths wondering what just happened to them, disoriented, and unclear about what might be next. 

                In the reading from 1 Peter, the author is writing to the Christian community which is in this liminal space of disorientation and transition.  The author is telling them not to be surprised or lose hope, and the author knows something about being in a position like that, so has some authority to tell them that this disorientation and even suffering can coexist with gladness and even joy.

                In the Gospel reading Jesus is praying for the disciples who will be in this liminal space, to strengthen them and give them everything they need to make the transition, the leap, the reformation to the Kingdom of God.  We are actually overhearing Jesus praying for us, disciples still in that liminal space of disorientation, still waiting for the promised Kingdom of God.

                We all deal with transitions, liminal space differently.  Some of us go with the flow more easily than others.  Some of us like to have all the answers.  Some of us get anxious and protective.  Others of us thrive.  I tend to like to know where we are going, partly because people expect me to, and partly because I feel more secure knowing the answers.  But lately I am more comfortable in the not knowing, and simply holding space for the transition to unfold.

                One example of those in liminal space is The Church of God of Prophecy.  They know that enforcement of immigration laws in our country are changing.  They are wondering when they or their loved ones might be picked up or deported.  They are wondering when paperwork might be completed that would grant Mexican citizenship for their children.  When that paperwork comes, they pack up and move to a land their children have never known and have a different life than they have had.  Many of you have asked me, where they are in their process.  They may have received certain letters and completed paperwork, however there are some parts that are simply unknown, disorienting liminal time and space, threshold work that doesn’t reveal what is on the other side of the door or how long it will take to walk through it.

                Another example of liminal space is grief.  I have never been so deep in it as I am now.  The world has changed.  Something has been left behind.  But what will be has not yet revealed itself.  I have not idea how long it will take to cross this lake, this liminal space, but I can tell you I am disoriented.  Thankfully, I find many of you in this space with me.  I would never wish that anyone have to be here, but I can’t imagine us any other place, and here we are together, disoriented together, grieving our various losses and not having any answers.

                The Christian church as a whole is in a kind of liminal space, too.  While Christianity still holds a central place in our culture and values, many people are rejecting church as the way to express and live the Christian life.  Maybe it is that Christianity is becoming more cultural than religious.  It is hard to express, because we’re in this disorienting space which can be hard to define.  We’ve left something behind, and we don’t know exactly what we’re doing or where we’re headed.

                Here are some things we can learn from the disciples’ experience of liminality. 

1.        When we get in one of these kinds of situations, a good thing to do is to pray.  Jesus prayed to help ground and orient and focus himself and his followers.  He prayed for God’s presence.  He prayed for awareness of unity and the knowledge that none of them would be alone.  He prayed that we would remember who we belong to—God.  He prayed to encourage and equip his disciples for living in this liminal time.  Even his disciples devote themselves to prayer by the end of the reading from Acts.

2.       Liminal time is a good time to be open.  The apostles ask Jesus in the first reading, in their confusion, to get them out of it by explaining to them what would be next.  They ask, “Is this the time when you will restore the Kingdom to Israel?”  Basically, they are asking, “Jesus, is this the time you’re going to do what we expect you to do?”  But Jesus asks them to let go of their expectations.  They are focused too narrow.  Instead of handing them what they think they want and need, God is trying to hand them and everyone something greater, New Life.  Then as Jesus is ascending, their focus is upward, longing for Jesus, wanting him back.  I picture them all gawking upward and these angels, just like at the tomb, come and ask them, “What are you looking at?”  By looking up, they are missing the angels all around them.  If they want to see Jesus in their neighbor, they are going to have to let go of their expectations of where he is and look around a little bit.  They are going to need to be open.

3.       Even during times of disorientation, some things are assured.  God is God, powerful and loving.  And God equips us, through the Holy Spirit, to meet the unknown with confidence and hope.  Partly what gives us confidence is that part of the unknown is known, and that is the destination, the Kingdom of God.  We don’t know what it is or where it is, or even when it is, except it is now, and it is among us, and it is about relationship and connection, and there will be no more crying and the wolf will lie down with the lamb.  It is good and when it is fully realized it will be good beyond our imagination.  We don’t know when it will be fully realized, but we know who leads us there, and we trust the good shepherd to get us there.

May 21, 2017

Gospel: John 14:15-21                   

1^st Reading: Acts 17:22-31

2^nd Reading: 1 Peter 3:13-22

                An empty sanctuary is filled with people, an empty cup is filled with grape juice, an empty font is filled with water, an empty hand is met with another in a greeting.  An empty room is filled with a guest.  An empty stomach is filled with food.  An empty life is filled with love.  Arms are raised like an empty vessel, ready to receive abundant generosity, God pouring life out for each of us.  Our empty lungs fill with breath, the room is empty of sound until we begin to pray and sing.  We search for meaning and purpose and fulfillment.  We long for life and love and for what is lasting and good.  Longing is our emptiness crying out to be filled.

                Today’s readings point to a longing within each person.  In the reading from Acts, Paul is preaching about a shrine to an unknown god.  For all the gods there are in Athens, still the Athenians are seeking something more.  Their gods of stone and bronze and gold are not meeting all their needs.  Paul speaks to this unmet need by introducing them to the God who created them and all things.  Paul points to Jesus, who he doesn’t name, but whose death and resurrection bring power and love and life and meaning to all.

                In the reading from 1 Peter, Christians are suffering.  They are asking whether God is with them or not.  They are longing to know what their suffering means.  They are longing to know and see God’s power.  The writer of 1 Peter is telling them that though the world will try to tell them that suffering means you have done wrong and deserve it or that suffering means your God isn’t powerful, that isn’t true.  The writer is saying that the people who are causing this suffering for Christians, probably in the form of harassment, have limited power.  Suffering is a temporary situation. The writer of this letter is assuring them that suffering doesn’t have the last word, that no one is outside God’s reach, and he is encouraging them to use suffering as an opportunity to share the good news gently and reverently, to tell their story about a God who isn’t afraid to suffer, and who gave his life that we might have life.

                The Disciples in the Gospel today are longing for Jesus to stay right there with them.  They are actually expressing the grief of later Christians that John is writing to, because Jesus is no longer physically present.  John writes of these events 40 plus years later to a group that feels abandoned and alone.  John is reassuring them that their greatest fear isn’t true.  They have not been abandoned.  They are not orphaned.  In fact, we are just as connected as we ever were when Jesus walked the earth because of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate.  One way we know we are connected is by love.  We can’t see love or measure love.  However, God shows such love for us by Jesus’ death on the cross and adopting us into God’s family.  And God’s love goes on in the loving acts of the community, through us, the church, the body of Christ, present with all who are suffering.  God’s love goes on through loving acts like not returning evil for evil, by feeding the hungry and visiting the sick, by caring for one another and those abandoned by society. 

                We all have longings.  We’re all seeking and searching for what will fill that need in us.  Society tells us it will be things we can see and own, beauty and grooming products, electronics, fancy food.  We all know the temporary nature of things like this.  It’s not going to last, even if we are satisfied for a while.  We don’t worship a whole bunch of gods like the Athenians, but we have idols just the same.  They don’t call it American Idol for nothing.  We worship musicians, actors, those who play sports, and the very rich.  We throw loads of money at them and gawk at their lives.  We live vicariously through them, cry at their breakups, and fly drones over their weddings.  We seem surprised when they turn out to be regular people with flaws.  Their power is fleeting.

                And we worship money.  How can we get more of it for ourselves and our church?  How can we get the kind of power that will keep our doors open and pay our bills?  How can we get enough to make us happy?  How can we get enough so we won’t have to suffer?

                When we focus our attention on our things, on people in power, on money, and use them to try to fulfill our longings, we are worshipping them.  “While God has overlooked times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent.”  This isn’t about how we’ve all done wrong and now we are punished.  The word “repent” means turn.  This is about God being very near to us and turning from what we have valued and tried to use for our fulfillment to what and who really gives us life.  God is fulfilling that longing within us with what really is good and lasting and life-giving.  We can turn and be filled, that’s how close God is.

                Turn to Love that created the universe in all its complexity.

                Turn to Love that is reliable because this kind of love doesn’t rely on unreliable human beings for anything.

                Turn to Love that gives us breath and keeps us going and is personally involved in our lives.

                Turn to Love which can’t be depicted in stone and bronze because it is so far beyond what any of us can conceive.

                Turn to Love that is closer to us than we are to ourselves.

                Turn to Love who is our mother and father.

                Turn to Love which fulfills our deepest need.

                Turn to Love which inspires us, incites us, motivates us to love, to perpetuate God’s love.

This is not something we can see or prove to someone.  This love will not keep us free from suffering.  But this love is eternal and powerful beyond measure.

                This love keeps us hopeful in the community of faith.  The one we follow exhibited this love in a most unusual way, by the unselfish life he lived, loving those who everyone else abandoned until it so infuriated us that we tried to destroy that loving power by destroying him.  In his resurrection, God’s absolute power was revealed, that we cannot undo the love God has for us.  We can’t kill it.  We can’t make ourselves unlovable.  Wherever the powers of hate and perpetuating suffering go on, the resurrection shows they won’t be victorious.  Only the power of God’s presence and love will last into eternity.  That’s what matters.  That’s what prevails.

                This love is for all who are outside the Christian Community, too.  Love is what we have to offer a destructive world, a world that offers fleeting pleasures, a world of emptiness and strong feelings of being disconnected, alienated, orphaned.  If we place our faith in material goods and in our own pleasures, we’re going to be let down.  Anything humans build will break, eventually.  It isn’t about if, it is about when.  Remember the quote, “Not a stone will be left on stone.  All will be thrown down.”  We can’t put our faith in things we make.  They don’t last.

If we put our faith in our own comfort, we will be let down.  To live is to suffer, among other things.  We have a choice about how we see our suffering, though.  We can let it make us bitter and take away our hope.  We can repay others for the suffering they cause us, but then we don’t offer anything different than what the world offers.  We can look at the suffering of Jesus, who obviously didn’t get what he deserved, or pay back what others deserved.  Instead, he continued to do what he does, to share love, which is the only thing that lasts, the main thing that connects us, the only thing that matters, the only thing with ultimate power of healing and transformation.  God is love.  To love is the way we have to connect with God who we can’t see.

You are loved.  You are powerful.  You have love within you.  God is in you.  You are in Christ.  We are all one.  Go out empowered, seeking the one who is seeking you, and find new life, share new life, live new life.  Forevermore.

Gospel: Luke 24:13-35

Gospel: Luke 24:13-35

1st Reading: Acts 2:14a, 36-41   

2nd Reading: 1 Peter 1:17-23

        There's been so much rain this spring, I have almost forgot how much I enjoy a good walk.  My mom stayed the night at my house two days last week with her greyhound, Gracie, while grandma has been in the hospital, and it was kind of nice to have an excuse to get out, since the dog needs walked.  Whatever the weather the dog needs to go out and after being cooped up in the hospital so long, I was glad to get out a few times.  Especially in a week like this one, it is good to get out and get some fresh air.

       The disciples, I'm sure, felt the same way.  Here are these lesser Disciples, not one of the 11 remaining, but maybe some of the 70 that were trained and sent out by Jesus to heal the sick and preach the good news.  Here they are on the road to Emmaus, exiting Jerusalem.  I always pictured them alone on the road.  Maybe emotionally, they felt alone.  But likely that day, there would have been many pilgrims exiting Jerusalem, having come there to celebrate the Passover.  The road was probably quite crowded, making it a little easier for Jesus to be there among the crowd, making it easy for him to settle in walking next to these disciples and listening to their dramatic story.

        We walk so many different roads, never knowing what others near to us are going through.  Sometimes we walk in anticipation, sometimes in disappointment, sometimes in joy, sometimes in grief.  Some steps are heavy and others are dancing.  I walked hospital corridors a lot this week.  The emergency room, and hallways, waiting rooms and cafeteria.  I wondered a lot what others are going through.  I heard parts of conversations whispered through tears.  At one point, grandma was going into surgery and we were all in the cafeteria.  We heard a code blue called.  It is heavy to know that someone is in crisis in that moment, that their heart has stopped.  We were on pins and needles.  The anestesiologist had basically told my mom and her siblings that grandma's situation was quite tenuous.  We knew that.  It has been touch and go all week with her.  About 5 minutes after the code blue was called, my aunt got a call.  It was the nurse in the operating room.  We all tensed up.  My cousin started crying and her sister comforted her.  I went over to sit next to my mom.  We all had our attention on Aunt Jeannine.  She finally breathed as she was listening and said something to let us know it was just that grandma had finally gone into surgery.  It wasn’t her they called the code about.  We all breathed a sigh of relief.  A few moments later one of the cafeteria workers brought us two chocolate bars.  He said he looked like we could use them.  It was very sweet of them to notice and care for us.  It made me wonder how many times a week this happens.  It made me wonder who was watching us.  It comforted me that we aren't alone.  Everyone is looking out to be of help.  Many people are on this road.

      So we all walk these roads.  And Jesus, himself, comes near and goes with us.  We don't usually recognize him.  I don't know if our eyes are kept from recognizing him or if we have some kind of blindness.  That these disciples are second tier means they may have not spent much time with him, maybe even one of the 12 disciples had trained them.  They may not have seen Jesus up close.  We, too, can be considered disciples, which means "learners."  We are trainees of Jesus, but since we haven't seen him in the flesh, we might wonder if that might be him or not when we think we might have encountered the risen Christ.

    We are on the road and the risen Christ comes near and goes with us and converses with us.  I love how he listens for a long time and then asks this kind of open-ended question that draws the disciples out and makes them delve deeper  into their experiences and emotions.  "What things?" he asks.  Jesus has this innocent curiosity that gently encourages them to open up and tell their story.  It is a question that isn't prying, but invites more, should the disciples care to share.  So the disciples do share.  They share their fears, their hopes, their confusion.  They even share the good news before they even know if it is good news, yet.  Their story is still in process, still fresh and as they tell it, some parts are becoming clearer and other parts muddier.

     Jesus listens.  Then he responds.  He sounds a little harsh in the Gospel story, calling them foolish.  But in their own language it is a much more gentle and joking, affectionate term, like silly goose, or something like that.  Then Jesus links the story they just told to the greater story of God walking with people on roads just like this one over thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of years.  It all fits together.  The disciples are beginning to see what their story has to do with all the other parts of the story of God and God's Creation coming near, walking together.

    The disciples start to show signs of seeing more clearly, when they invite Jesus, a stranger in that moment to stay with them.  Hasn't the whole story of God's love been about strangers bridging the gap, and inviting others to be in relationship with them, about hospitality?  Jesus would never impose on them, but goes on ahead, giving them the chance to decide whether to invite him or not.  How long did they stand their looking at each other before they called out to him to stay?  Whether it was immediate or whether they had to go running after him, the disciples then extend the kind of hospitality to Jesus that God has extended to them, and he accepts.

    I am starting to think that Jesus was always hungry.  He never refuses a dinner invitation.  So they eat together.  Somehow this act of eating reveals the truth to them, that they knew all along.  Their eyes are opened to see what their hearts already knew.  This is a good reminder to us to pay attention to the burning of your hearts.  We're not just looking for signs of a heart attack, although that is a good thing to do too, to listen to your body and call the paramedics if necessary.  But so many times our bodies are having an emotional reaction or trying to tell us something and we ignore it.  Our hearts may very well know when Jesus is near.  Our hearts may tell us to open our eyes and confirm what the heart knows.  Our hearts tell us to open our eyes to see friends where we once only saw strangers.  Our hearts are telling us to invite, be open and curious, to seek.  It is telling us to look beyond the surface, beyond what we think is possible to see deeply, to truly experience the good news. 

    Eating together opens their eyes.  Jesus is made known to them in the breaking of the bread.  There are some things our minds can't take in by thinking, but we can experience in other ways.  Our other senses can help us access what the heart or the emotions already know.  Eating can break down our barriers and bring us together and open up pathways to understanding that the brain can't access.  Our sense of taste tells us what is good for us, what is life-giving.  Our sense of taste links us to other experiences we've had, can bring up strong memories.  A meal is nourishing for both the body and the spirit, because it brings us together in community for conversation, reflection, and community.

    When the bread is broken and shared, when Jesus shares himself with us, we can begin to see.  When we share our bread with others, we can begin to find wholeness in community, communion with Christ and each other. 

    I was reminded this week of the story of Jesus, early in his ministry, tempted in the wilderness for 40 days, famished.  He was tempted to turn stones into bread and feed himself.  Of course, he refuses.  He says, "One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the  mouth of God."  Here Jesus is, his body broken on the cross, his body broken and shared around the table, his body, the body of Christ broken and gathered again around the table, Jesus, both bread and word made flesh, God's promise come to us, staying with us.  Jesus, both bread and God and love, a kind of eye-opening, inviting love, honest, and forgiving.

    So our story is also unfolding, like that of the disciples, linked to the story of God's creation, leading the people to the promised land, guiding them, coming to walk among them, and revealing love to us in the breaking of the bread.  That's us that Jesus is walking with along the road.  That is us whose eyes are being opened.  That is us who are learning to invite and welcome.  That is us who are sharing bread and making strangers into friends.  That is us, seeing Jesus, and experiencing love.

April 23, 2017

Gospel:  John 20:19-31                  

Acts 2:14a, 22-32             

2^nd Reading: 1 Peter 1:3-9

                I have a nephew named Thomas.  I remember when my sister told me what his name would be.  My mom and I turned and looked at each other.  We were both thinking the same thing, “Doubting Thomas.”  If I remember correctly, we didn’t vocalize that thought at that moment, but discussed it, as any family should, behind my sister’s back.  Now I’ve come to see that Thomas gets a bad rap.  He does so much more than doubt, but even his doubt cannot separate him from the love of God.  In the end he believes and confesses.

                First let us establish that Thomas is left out.  Left Out Thomas is what I will call him.  He is the only one not there when Jesus makes his peaceful appearance.  The Disciples were locked in their room for fear of the religious authorities who might like to crucify one of them next.  But Thomas is not there.  Where is he?  Some say he was out getting groceries.  Some say he believed what the women told him, that Jesus is risen and was out looking for him.  In that case, he wanted to see Jesus’ hands and side because he wanted to make sure it was really him. 

                The fact that Thomas was not locked up in fear in the room with the other Disciples makes him Brave Thomas.  He said before they went to raise Lazarus, “Let us also go to Jerusalem that we might die with him.”  He’s out there.  He’s taking a risk out there.  He isn’t afraid, or if he is, he isn’t letting his fear stop him.

                The next name I have given to Thomas is Honest Thomas.  Doubting Thomas is a judgment meant to shame Thomas and all who doubt.  Yet we all doubt.  We are all Doubting Thomases.  However much faith we have, still we wonder, if we are honest.  We might as well be honest about it and ask questions and look for the risen Christ and seek to touch him and wrap our brains around how he could be resurrected and why he’d want to do that for us.  Faith and doubt are not opposites.  Faith and certainty are opposites.  Faith and doubt are two sides of a coin.  They go together.

                Thomas is also Curious Thomas.  He asks questions.  He wants to see and touch.  Sometimes the church has failed people with inquisitive minds.  We have asked people to just accept what we tell them.  However, that is asking people to become mindless sheep—my friend calls them “sheeple.”  A combination of sheep and people.  God can take our questions.  God likes our questions.  We ought to use the minds gave us to inquire and try to understand and to verify for ourselves, because we can’t always trust those in human authority.

                Thomas is also Believing Thomas.  He spends at least as much time in the Gospels believing as he does doubting.  This is a story of a person’s unfolding belief.

                And finally he becomes Proclaiming Thomas.  He proclaims, “My Lord and my God!”  He gets it and he shouts it.

                I don’t know why people focus so much on negative characteristics, but we often do.   Probably to protect ourselves.  However, it is not so with God.  God sees the whole picture.  God sees us at our worst and our best and is leading us toward wholeness.  That is part of what the word peace means.  In Hebrew Jesus would be saying, “Shalom.”  Shalom means wholeness.  Three times, Jesus greets the frightened Disciples with the greeting of peace and wholeness, and it is God’s intention for us too, God’s promise.  Shalom is something we build between us, but it is also a gift of God.

The way God sees us, we are not defined by our mistakes, our sins, or our doubt, our brokenness.  We are defined by our friendship with God, our adoption into God’s family, and the fact that God made us very good.  My grandma used to have a plate up on her wall with a little boy on it and it said, “God don’t make no junk!”  That’s right.  We have value in God’s eyes.  We have relationship with God.  Nothing can get in the way of that.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God. 

Of course the Gospel writer John was writing to his audience who were becoming anxious for Jesus’ return.  Some of them had seen Jesus and believed, and others had missed out on it.  He was saying that those who hadn’t been there were also blessed and showed an amazing faith.  Of course now we’re all in the same boat.  None of us were there to see Jesus walk the earth or to touch his hands and side.  However we do see him and touch him.  We see him whenever we see someone in need, someone wounded, someone hurting.  We see him when we see anyone who is marginalized, an immigrant, someone whose car is broken down by the side of the road, those who gather cans and bottles as their income.  And we do touch him.  We touch him when we hold the hand of a homebound person, when we embrace a convict, when we put first-aid-cream and a band-aid on a boo-boo.  And we touch him when we take him into our own bodies in Holy Communion.  We eat his wounded flesh for the healing of our world, for the strengthening of our belief.  We drink his blood poured out for us, touch his life and his power, so that we can pass that on to people who live in fear and isolation.

May we find in Doubting Thomas a role model.  May we embrace our doubts and voice them rather than pretend that we know.  May we be Left Out of the “faith” everyone else pretends to have in order to come to a faith that is our own.  May we be brave, willing to exit the room where others lock themselves in fear.  May we have courage to look for the risen Christ.  May we be honest and straightforward with God, knowing we have nothing to be ashamed of or to hide.  May we allow ourselves to have an honest relationship with God.  May we be curious and questioning and thing for ourselves, rather than led astray by believing everything our religious leaders tell us.  May we find in our doubts an element of belief, a kind of “yes,” an affirmation of ultimate truth that brings us abundant life that we, then, share.  May we find our lives proclaiming the resurrection, naming God, naming what has power and who gives life.  May we find resurrection all around us, among the Easter doubts, fears, and hopes.