A Little More about Love

Image of two yellow ducklings facing each other, black beaks touching.

I wish love was simple and uncomplicated. Jesus talked about it so much because love challenges us, often to go beyond our perceived limits. I didn’t grow up with the best role models when it comes to love. I have no doubt that my parents did their best. Yet, what they communicated to me was that love was conditional, based on following the rules and being “good.” In many ways, the church communicated the same thing to me. Starting Sunday School at eight meant that I missed the basics of preschool and early elementary school. I didn’t learn “Jesus Loves Me,” the song, until I was in college, and by then it was almost too late.

In John’s gospel Jesus says, “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” I wonder if that was hard for those first disciples to grasp. In my mind they were very young men, perhaps between the ages of 15 and 20 by the time Jesus would have spoken these words. They lived in a society very different from ours. What lessons had they learned about love before they met Jesus? Jesus spoke about agape, unconditional love, and it’s possible that no one else really did. Maybe they knew something of storge, affection, or philia, brotherly love or friendship, or eros, romantic love. But outside of the synagogue and the need to be involved in charity, where would they have encountered agape?

I don’t know. Certainly, anyone of them could have had an encounter with God that unfolded the meaning of agape for them. Or maybe being with Jesus for three years was enough for them to begin to grasp the meaning of Jesus’ commandment to “love one another as I have loved you.” I’d like to think those early disciples got it, understood it, and went on to live in relationship with each other guided by agape. However, what I remember about early church history indicates that they probably didn’t.

So this leads me to the question of how, when, and where do we experience agape today? If we’re lucky, we learn about unconditional love from our parents. And for those of us who weren’t lucky enough to have healthy, loving, emotive parents, then it would be great if the church would step in and fill that gap?

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Maybe we can dedicate the month to communicating the love we have for one another and for all our neighbors. What if everyone who joined our worship services or Bible studies or Sunday Schools heard and believed the message that they are God’s beloved, that they are loved and valued for who they are in this moment? What if we stopped caring about all those things we’ve labeled as sin, and just focused on loving whomever shows up?

How many lives could be saved if we communicated clearly that Queer folx are loved by God? That people with addictions are loved by God? That people with disabilities are loved by God? That people with mental illness are loved by God? That people experiencing homelessness are loved by God? That people who are divorced are loved by God? That women who’ve had abortions are loved by God? That people living in non monogamous relationships are loved by God? No change needed. Right now, whoever you are, whatever you are doing, whatever you are experiencing, you are loved by God. For real. Seriously, how many lives could be saved with this simple message?

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, I invite every preacher, every church leader, to make agape the mission and the message. Let’s set aside everything we think makes proper theology and proper church practice and figure out how to embody agape for those who most need to know the saving power of God’s love for the whole of creation.

RCL – Year B – Sixth Sunday of Easter – May 9, 2021 Acts 10:44-48  • Psalm 98  • 1 John 5:1-6  • John 15:9-17

Photo: CC0image by pexels

Beloved, Let us Love

Image of a yellow lab looking into the eyes of a little girl whose back is to the camera. The background is grass and trees.

Sometimes I feel like I keep saying the same things and the echoes go on and on with no one listening. It’s how I’m feeling now as I contemplate the familiar words of 1 John 4:7-8: 4:7 Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. How have we failed to take in these words and let them shape our actions, our relationships, our communities? These words are not consistent with the ways in which we have divided ourselves one from another, even within Christianity, never mind outside of the church.

Hearing these words in conjunction with the story of Peter baptizing the eunuch in Acts and Jesus’ explanation of the vine and branches in John, I wonder how it is we have gotten to a place where church is declining. Peter had his misgivings about the eunuch and then could not refuse to baptize him when the opportunity came. Shouldn’t this story be an invitation for us to baptize all those who come seeking with passion and commitment? Moreover, shouldn’t this story invite us to journey with those we perceive to be different from us? I mean, we never really know through whom God is working, do we? Peter certainly didn’t think a eunuch would be called by God, and yet…

While I strongly suspect the words in John 15 about the vine and branches are more the Fourth Evangelist and less Jesus, there is truth in them, though maybe not the truth that is usually extracted from them. Jesus is the vine. God is the vinegrower. We are the branches. We are connected to one another and to the Sacred and function best when we live into that connectedness, that interdependence. Let’s not worry about who isn’t abiding in sacred community; that isn’t our job. Our job is to grow, to thrive, and to bear fruit, fruit that will last. Fruit that is nourishing and inviting for all those who feel disconnected and lost and, yet, are still seeking – maybe like that eunuch. Who can be part of the vine is not ours to determine; it is up to the vinegrower and the vine itself. We are simply meant to invite and enfold those around us with radical inclusion and hospitality. There’s nothing that says that every branch is identical or every fruit the same.

In a time when we long for pandemic to be over and we know that it is not, practicing love for one another must be our first priority. Now is not time to stop wearing masks, keeping physical distance, and staying apart. Those who say they are Christian and refuse to wear a mask and insist on acting as if pandemic were not real, are not loving their neighbors as themselves. 1 John isn’t talking about easy love, like loving chocolate cake or loving kittens, puppies, and babies. The writer is inviting us to live in the challenging kind of love, agape, the love that God has for the whole of Creation, the Love that Jesus embodied, the Love that the world could not tolerate, the Love that brings new life from dreadful tombs of death. This is hard and it takes our attention and intention. I’m not sure it comes naturally to human beings.

Think of all the ways in which human beings display their lack of love for neighbor and/or self. There are wars. There is gun violence. There is domestic violence. There is racism. There is White supremacy. There is fear of those who seem to be other. There is judgement. There is division created by human beings where God intended unity. What will it take for us to abide in Love, to attach ourselves to the vine in ways that bring new life to ourselves, our communities, our neighbors?

I honestly believe we can do better at embodying Divine Love. With intention, we can dismantle the systems of hatred and create systems of justice. Trusting that we are all Beloved and that God’s ways are all about Love, we can stop our fear-based responses and become better stewards of Creation, including church in all its varied forms.

May we all abide in Love, especially in the uncomfortable places, and allow that Love to calm our fears, educate our ignorance, and heal all that is broken – one person at a time if need be. Beloved, let us love one another…

RCL – Year B – Fifth Sunday of Easter – May 2, 2021 Acts 8:26-40  • Psalm 22:25-31  • 1 John 4:7-21  • John 15:1-8

Photo: CC0image by Stephen Chantzis

No Justice. No Peace.

Image of large crowd of protesters holding sings that say, “Stop Racism Now,” “Black Lives Matter,” and “No Justice. No Peace.”

There is no peace here. Jesus may have breathed peace on his disciples. However, many have turned away from the peace he both breathed and embodied. Jesus exhaled peace on his disciples so that they might become the Body of Christ, the Spirit of God embodied in a world with much need. The primary purpose of the disciple was to continue the work that Jesus began when Jesus no longer lived in the flesh. And this has been the challenge since the very early days of the church, has it not?

From the beginning, Jesus’ disciples could not agree on what it meant to be the Body of Christ. They argued about whether or not one had to be Jewish in order to be a follower of Christ. They argued about traditions and teachers and what they could and could not do as members of Christ’s Body. And here we are, 2000 years later still arguing, still divided, still focused on everything other than embodying the peace Jesus passed on to his first disciples.

I live in and work in the Twin Cities. As you know, a police officer shot and killed yet another unarmed Black man last Sunday afternoon. Daunte Wright’s murder comes in the middle of the trial of the officer who killed George Floyd less than a year ago. My friends who are Black have expressed fear and anxiety for themselves, for their spouses, and especially for their sons. My friends who are White have expressed concern for the officer who shot Daunte and questioned whether or not Chauvin (the officer who killed Floyd) will have a fair trial. White folx have a hard time attributing these murders to the White supremacy that our entire criminal legal system is built on. Black folx have been shouting “Stop killing us” at rallies, marches, and protests for years. They also cry out, “No justice. No peace.”

No justice. No peace. This is Truth beyond the capacity of most White Christians to admit. As long as we continue to buy into the narrative that excuses police killing POC, we are perpetuating White supremacy and sustaining its lethality. How can any of us call ourselves Christian and believe that a police officer has the right to kill unarmed POC? Daunte Wright was pulled over because he was a young Black man driving a car. The police can say it was because his tags were expired, and that is just an excuse. My wife’s tags were expired for six months in 2020 before either of noticed. And she was never pulled over. In fact there are currently over 600,000 expired tags in Minnesota at this moment. Are they all going to be stopped by police and then shot? I doubt it.

Yes, I know they also discovered that Daunte had a warrant out for his arrest. Why? He had misdemeanor charges and failed to appear in court because the summons was sent to his previous address. He did nothing that justifies his death. And now another child will grow up without a father because those with power cannot imagine giving up the power White supremacy gives them.

My friends, as Christians we are the embodiment of the Risen Christ. Jesus did not care about saving souls. He did not care about literally interpreting scripture. He did not judge the actions of those with whom he disagreed. Jesus was all about saving lives, fostering wholeness, re-membering people into community. He was about empowering those whom the Empire had oppressed. He wanted everyone to know the Love of God through the ways in which he loved.

If you are among those who have been silent about White supremacy in our criminal legal system and in every institution in our society, now would be a good time to ask yourself why you have been silent. Really, what would Jesus have us do? Surely, silence or, worse, continuing to believe the White supremacist narratives of the empire, is not what Jesus would have us do. If we are the embodiment of the Risen Christ, then we are to be about breathing peace into the world. And we know beyond any doubt that if there is no justice, there will be no peace.

Will you commit to ending the oppression of the empire and eradicating White supremacy where you encounter it? We have a sacred duty to repair what we human beings have broken. Jesus said, “Peace be with you.” And he breathed the Spirit on a group of Brown-skinned people. We White-skinned people have wrongfully and selfishly hoarded that peace for far too long.

What are we going to do to embody the Risen Christ in a way that literally saves lives and ends our silent complicity in the on-going violence against POC?

RCL – Year B – Third Sunday of Easter – April 18, 2021
Acts 3:12-19  • Psalm 4  • 1 John 3:1-7  • Luke 24:36b-48

Photo: CC-BY-NC image by Rachael Keefe

Celebrating Resurrection

Image of a tan baby bunny sitting in front of a bird’s nest with 3 colored eggs. All in a green field with small, white flowers.

A sense of Resurrection hit me early this year. Yesterday I was able to get a vaccine sooner than I had anticipated. I needed to be in a hospital setting because of my medical conditions and the possibility of an allergic reaction. I have been on all kinds of waiting lists for a few weeks and had to turn down one place because it wasn’t a hospital. Yesterday, though, my wife came home from a morning appointment at the VA (she’s a veteran) and told me that if I went there right then, I could get a vaccine. Good news, indeed. I have had to keep my exposure to the world so minimal over the last 13 months because of my high risk. Now I am imagining what I can do five weeks from now when I am fully vaccinated. It won’t be anything exciting by most people’s standards. Just things like the dentist, the ophthalmologist, a mammogram, and in-person PT for my frozen shoulder. I might be brave enough to go to the Asian market for somethings that aren’t available on Instacart, though I won’t go in if it’s too crowded. I also like to dream about having friends who also vaccinated over this summer – outside, masked, and distanced, of course. It feels like a bit of resurrection is on the horizon.

I can’t help but think of the heavy grief those women carried to Jesus’ tomb along with the anointing spices. They had no idea that they would be greeted by Resurrection. By John’s account, Mary Magdalene mistook the Risen Christ for the gardener. Imagine how much her spirits lifted when she recognized her beloved friend, rabbi, teacher. By Mark’s account the women were terrified by the very idea of Resurrection; they ran away. I get that. If I had been there, I would have dropped my anointing spices and ran for home. No one expects the power of God to change the laws of nature. No one expects Resurrection and when it happens we should be awestruck, if not also filled with fear and trembling.

Even today. Yes, today, when we encounter Resurrection, we must also be open to the awe, or the fear, or the terror. God’s power is so much more than anything we encounter on a day-to-day basis. And, let’s face it, these days we are weighed down by the grief we carry. All of us know at least one person who has died from COVID. Most of us know many. And then there is the loss of “normal,” whatever that meant for us. When we encounter Resurrection this year, will the heaviness of the grief we carry lessen? Will we be able to breathe a little more deeply with the reminder that God is truly with us through everything?

Also, with the Resurrection comes the knowledge that nothing will ever be “normal” again. Encounters with the Risen Christ were not the same as being with Jesus before his death. He was different. He had to identify himself every time he showed up for any of his disciples. New Life means different life. This is good for us to remember as we look at the end of pandemic, whenever it comes. There are things that will never be the same again. Masking in public is likely here to stay. Handshakes are probably a thing of the past. Many of us will never feel comfortable being part of a large crowd again. Some of us will be reluctant to eat in restaurants or even get takeout again. And church will be different, too. We don’t know when or if we’ll be able to sing together again. We won’t pass the offering plate or pass the Peace. We won’t be handing out bulletins or casually hugging each other. Who knows what kinship time will look like. Are potlucks a thing of the past? Church might have to take a cue from the Resurrected Christ and be different in appearance and action.

While most of us resist change and long to “get back to normal,” Resurrection reminds us that this is not how the Body of Christ started out. We, as church, have an amazing opportunity to appear and behave differently, like the Resurrected Christ. Maybe we won’t have to point out our wounds or explain that we are still the church, yet we can embrace transformation. We can emerge from pandemic very unlike we were prior. Yes, it’s scary not to know the future shape we will take. Yes, it’s uncomfortable to take risks. Yes, it seems counterintuitive to intentionally embrace more change when so much has already changed. Some may, in fact, run away in fear. That’s okay. The women ran away at first. Yet, we know they told the story at some point because here we are a couple thousand years later.

With the promise of new life, life after pandemic, on the horizon, may we all embrace the power and truth of Resurrection this Easter. May we move through our fear and welcome the differences that will eventually become normative. May our congregations live into transformation and Resurrection in a way that beckons to those who have yet to find welcome in the church. It’s okay to be anxious or afraid. We have yet to know what resurrection will look like in the wake of pandemic. We are still caught somewhere between Maundy Thursday and Easter morning. We will celebrate Easter in spirit this week. It may be several more months before we get to experience New Life in-person. The key is to be open to whatever comes and give thanks for the promise of Resurrection.

Happy Easter!

Looking for sermon help? Try here.

RCL – Year B – Easter – April 4, 2021

Acts 10:34-43 or Isaiah 25:6-9  • Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24  • 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 or Acts 10:34-43  • John 20:1-18 or Mark 16:1-8

Photo: CC0image by Rebekka D

Beware the Serpents

Image of silhouettes of children raising their arms in the foreground. The background is the red, orange, yellow and blue of a sunrise with birds also silhouetted.

In the wilderness, life is difficult. The space between what was and what will be is uncomfortable, and often distressing. For the Israelites who were on their way from captivity to liberation, misery met them in the desert. They came to the realization that the journey would be long and hard and there was no turning back. They complained to Moses about the lack of water and food. They blamed God for their plight. They were miserable and unexpectedly longing for those days in Egypt where they knew what to expect and there was enough food and water.

Then the encountered the poisonous serpents. They believed these were sent by God as punishment for their sins. I don’t believe God really works this way. I think they encountered the scorpions that live in the desert. Or maybe the serpents are metaphor for the way in which dwelling on our own misery lets a kind of poison in. Either way, people died. And the survivors repented.

Repentance made them look for a different way. Moses made a bronze serpent that made them look up in order to live. In effect, it made them stop looking at their misery and, instead, look to God for hope and life. And their journey continued; they did not die. Eventually, they made it through the wilderness to the Promised Land. Eventually, they accepted the challenges of the journey and began to imagine a new life for themselves.

We have much to learn from these ancient wilderness wanderers. We have been in pandemic wilderness for a year. It is uncomfortable and distressing. Grief weighs heavily on all of us. Some of us don’t have the resources they need to get through a day, much less the days ahead. It becomes too easy to focus on the hard parts, the miserable parts of pandemic. Some have even blamed God for COVID, for people dying, for all the challenges of the past year.

I don’t find this helpful or healthy. God does not cause suffering. God did not create COVID-19 and all its variants to punish us or teach us anything. We might learn something from this time of pandemic at some point, but that doesn’t mean God sent the virus to us. Perhaps, we need to do as the Israelites did and repent of our focus on our misery. Perhaps it is time that those of us who are able, look up. Look up to find hope, healing, and guidance in God.

This looking upward does not negate all the suffering and grief. It does not deny the reality of pandemic which is not over. The change in focus for the Israelites was life-giving. It can be life-giving for us as well. Focusing on God means not focusing on the limits pandemic has imposed on us. Focusing on God means taking deeper breaths and appreciating the blessings in the midst of the challenges. It means asking ourselves how we can use the resources we have to benefit another. It means recognizing that the people of God have been in similar places in the past; God knows the way through loss, through grief, through injustice… through it all.

The Israelites didn’t suddenly have more food and water on their journey. They didn’t suddenly arrive on the other side of the wilderness. However, they were able to look up, focus away from their misery, and recognize God’s presence in their midst – at least for a little while. They would forget again. They would be overwhelmed by their circumstances again. And they would find God in their midst again. We can follow their lead. Where do you find hope in these wilderness days?

No matter how much we want this journey through pandemic to be over, it is not. Yes, there are many who are acting as if COVID no longer poses a threat. These are the folx who are focused on the poisonous serpents and are unable to look up and see hope and healing. Denial of pain and suffering helps no one. Acknowledging it and searching for hope in the midst of it, will lead toward healing. Remember, the presence of God in the midst of the ancient Israelites did not change their circumstances. Instead, God led them through their hunger, their thirst, and the poisonous serpents.

We can get through this. Whatever the “new normal” will be is on the horizon. It’s still hazy and unclear, though. The only way through the remaining days of pandemic are together. Those of us who are able to look up and find hope and healing have a responsibility to help those who cannot. We don’t need a bronze serpent to remind us that God, the power of Life and Love, is in our midst; we need one another.

RCL – Year B – Fourth Sunday in Lent – March 14, 2021 Exodus 20:1-17  • Psalm 19  • 1 Corinthians 1:18-25  • John 2:13-22

Photo: CC0image by Gerd Altmann

Time to Work with God

Image of a large cast iron pot filled with water and surrounded by flowers

People are weird, impulsive, and messy. Reading the story of Sarah getting Abraham to banish Hagar and Ishmael reminds me just how foolish we all can be. Sarah was, after all, responsible for Hagar getting pregnant by Abraham to begin with. Then when Sarah finally gives birth to Isaac and Isaac and Ishmael get too close, Sarah’s own jealousy takes over. She doesn’t want anything to get in the way of God’s promise to Abraham. If Hagar and Ishmael continue to hang around, maybe God’s promise to make nations from Abraham’s descendants might not remain exclusively Isaac’s. Of course, God ended up giving Hagar the same promise so Sarah’s selfishness accomplished little, except maybe that she didn’t witness God’s promise to Hagar.

Sarah’s behavior is consistent with our own on so many levels. She treated God’s promise to Abraham as though it were pie, as though there was a limited amount and she wanted Isaac to have it all. We do this with many aspects of faith and society. We somehow believe we can control who God loves with all of our rules and doctrines and traditions. We treat justice like it is a precious commodity that must be held by the privileged few. How many have we banished to thirst in the wilderness because of our own shortsightedness? It’s not like God withdraws God’s love from those we deem unworthy. Nor does God share our views of who deserves justice. I don’t know if Sarah ever acknowledged her foolishness. However, I wonder if the current situation in the world will awaken us to our own?

In Romans Paul tells us that we share in Christ’s baptism and, also, Christ’s resurrection. In baptism we acknowledge we belong to God and recognize the grace that washes over us. We need not wait until we die to participate in Christ’s resurrection. New life is possible for us in this moment, right now. Perhaps more importantly, there is enough new life to cover every person on the planet. There is no shortage of redemption and resurrection. Such is the nature of grace. As Luther says, grace abounds.

Consequently, we can stop hoarding it. We can admit that we have been mistaken about who is “saved” and who is not. We can repent from our racist and white supremacist ways and work toward equality for all people right now. We can stop trying to say that the Bible addresses every aspect of modern life and accept that God is still at work in the world revealing the fullness of God in the wonderful diversity of humanity. Cis gender, heterosexual, white, able-bodied, privileged maleness is not perfection nor a model for how to be Christian. Remember God’s love is not pie; there is plenty for everyone even those we think are flawed or sinful. Mental illness is not a punishment for sin. Neither is any kind of disability. Every person is made in God’s image and our understanding of God is incomplete without the amazingly beautiful diversity of humanity.

God is at work in the world in spite of our weirdness, our impulsiveness, and our messiness. It is okay to make mistakes and get things wrong. However, it is not okay to persist in these ways just because they are comfortable for us. When we learn better we are supposed to do better. Moreover, we are called to care for the vulnerable among us, not banish them to the margins of society. Jesus worked hard to wake people up to the need to speak truth to power and to reach out with healing hands to those cast out. We don’t need to keep making more Hagars and Ishamaels for God to rescue with living water. As the church, the body of Christ, we are supposed to be that living water.

Maybe it is time that we start working with God to fulfill God’s vision of unity in the world rather than maintaining our systems and traditions of judgement and division. Even in pandemic, even with uprisings continuing, we have all that we need to end our compliance with white supremacy and heteronormalcy. We have erred on the side of selfish foolishness that has sent too many people out into the desert for far too long. Grace, love, justice, mercy… these are all commodities that though precious exist in abundance, an abundance so great that we can’t possible use them up.

God is still working in the world to bring new life to those we have cast out. It is time we embrace the fullness of Creation and work with God rather than against God. May we step into the grace that flows like baptismal waters and live as people of resurrection and abundance.

RCL – Year A – Third Sunday after Pentecost – June 21, 2020
Genesis 21:8-21 with Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17 or
Jeremiah 20:7-13 with Psalm 69:7-10, (11-15), 16-18
Romans 6:1b-11
Matthew 10:24-39

Photo: CC0image by GGaby Stein

A Pastor’s Prayer in the midst of Pandemic

Shepherding God, my desire is to follow you to those green pastures and still waters. I want to rest in you. Yet, rest is rare in these days of crisis, and stillness if fraught with exhaustion. Caring for your people, and finding the right path through this deep valley weighs heavily on my spirit. I often forget that you are with me and that it is your ways that I seek. Awaken me once again to your presence that I may live in your pastures even now.

Restoring and renewing God, you know my heart even before I do. You know the fears I will not give voice to, and you know the dreams I hardly dare to acknowledge. May the whispers of your spirit bring a new assurance and restore peace to my soul. With every budding flower and every soaring hawk, I am reminded that you are at work restoring Creation. Yours is always a promise of new life. Grant me the courage to trust that promise.

Ever-present God, it isn’t evil that fear, exactly. It is the anger, the despair that drives some people to aggression or selfishness. I fear the ignorance propagated by inadequate public leadership. I fear the desperation that grows in so many of my neighbors. I fear the frailty of this body of mine. Enter into these fears, God of life, and renew a right spirit within me.

Comforting God, you are present even now amid COVID-19. While faith will not protect me or anyone else from this virus, your Love can guide humanity if we let it. We can show up for our neighbors who have lost loved ones, employment, hope. We can share resources and not hoard them for ourselves. We can find hope for this world, for humanity, for a future unlike our past. If we rely on your Love, it becomes possible to address the brokenness highlighted by this crisis. Guide us all onto the path that will end all fear of the “other” and heal divisions we have created.

Merciful and healing God, I am at a loss for words when it comes to the suffering of so many. It is hard to believe that healing will come. It is hard to believe that the whole world won’t sink into despair that is impossible to rise out of. Yet, you promise all who seek you will find goodness and mercy. May this be true for those who are grieving… for those who struggle with symptoms of mental illness… for those who have no hope… for those who believe the lies of the politicians… for the politicians themselves… Guide us all to the cup that overflows.

God of life and Love, you have opened the gate of possibility for us all. We can give in to fear or we can choose Love. Forgive me for the moments when Love seems impossible and wholeness seems elusive. You are the gate to new life, to abundant life. Abundance of joy and Love and forgiveness and mercy and so much more are possible even in this time. Fill me with gratitude for all that I have and enable me to pass through your gate to live a life of generosity and grace.

In gratitude and hope, I pray. Be with all who struggle to live in hope and Love. Be with all who risk their lives for the sake of others. Be with all who are surrounded by death. May every human being experience the wonders of your Love and the life of abundance you freely offer. Awaken the hearts and minds of every dreamer and visionary to speed the day of hope and healing for all people. In the meantime, teach me anew what it means to trust in you – in your presence, in your Love, in your grace, in your mercy, in your forgiveness that I may share your abundance with all whom I meet. In the name of the One who came to teach us how to Love one another, Amen.

If you are in need of sermon help, try here.

RCL – Year A – Fourth Sunday of Easter – May 3, 2020
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10

Photo: CC0image by 9883074

Traveling Companions

On the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death, I find myself thinking about all the roads I have traveled – literally and figuratively. I’ve been on roads in many states and a few other countries. Some were crowded city roads and others were quiet rural roads. I’ve traveled on foot, on bicycle, on motor cycle, in cars as passenger and driver, and on buses. Many miles and many places. Sometimes I had great company and other times uncomfortable companions. Many times I traveled alone. And one very memorable time I was accompanied by a herd of dairy cows.

That was on a mountainous road in the North East Kingdom of Vermont many years ago. I was riding my new mountain bike and had gone several miles when a bolt fell off the front tire. Since I was young and not an experienced cyclist, I didn’t have any tools with me. My solution was to pick up my bike and walk home. As I carried the bike on one shoulder with the tire in my other hand, I made my ways slowly along the very rural road. Occasionally, cars would pass and slow down with driver and passengers staring at me as they went. This annoyed me each time it happened. After about 45 minutes of this happening (maybe 6 cars), I stopped, set down my bike, and turned around. The passing cars weren’t staring at me; they were amused, no doubt, by the 30 or so cows following me on the other side of the fence. I laughed. What else could I do.

Most of my traveling hasn’t had such amusing company. I think about the times I was on roads to run away from where I had been. Sometimes, even to run toward something new. Roads that led to new people and places. Roads that led to new places that would become home. Roads so filled with memories that tears of longing come to my eyes. So many people, places, experiences… life. I am grateful for those who have shared the journey on the long drives and the short trips. There are more roads ahead, I’m sure. I wonder who I will meet and where I will go…

These thoughts lead me to the two who were on the road to Emmaus on that first Easter day. Cleopas and the unnamed one. Were they going home? Had they been in Jerusalem just for Passover and were heading back to resume their everyday life? Had they been part of the larger group of disciples and now didn’t have a place to be and so were moving on? Were they heading to friends who didn’t yet know all that had happened? Were they running away from Jerusalem or toward Emmaus? The scriptures don’t tell us. All we know is that they were on the road to Emmaus and were joined by an unexpected travel companion.

Who among us wouldn’t want this companion to travel with us? He listened to all they had to say. Then he invited them deeper into the Mystery of their experiences. He stayed with them and ate with them. Then, as they broke bread, their eyes were opened and the Spirit burned within them. Now I’ve taken some walks and had a sense of the Spirit’s presence in some places, but nothing like this. But what if I’ve journeyed with the Risen Christ and not known it? What if we all have?

In these days of COVID-19 and physical distancing the idea of a long journey in the company of friends sounds awesome in and of itself. However, what might change for us if we start actively expecting the Risen Christ to accompany us? What if we look for the Holy One all the time and everywhere? Would the masked faces of strangers be transformed into friends or siblings? Would our fears be lessened? Would we be able to breathe more deeply knowing that Christ is with us on these strange and uncertain roads we are traveling? Would it make a difference to know that God is listening to our hearts and inviting us deeper into the Mystery that is our lives?

I think it might. We know that what is coming out of the Oval Office is mostly nonsense and meant to invoke fear and foster division and hatred. Instead of giving in to that, let’s think about those “others” we meet on our streets as if they were the Risen Christ. Let’s think about those faces we see on the news as companions on the journey. We are all needing someone to listen to our experiences, validate our fears, calm our anxious minds.

Right now, there is no equality on the journey. All of us are not in the same boat. All of us are not traveling the same road or with adequate supplies. If we are looking for the Risen Christ, then when our eyes are opened we will see the inequity and how this virus is magnifying the pre-existing conditions created by systemic racism. We will see that the President is making this worse and black people are dying at much higher rates than white folx. We will see income gaps getting bigger and education disparities widening. Perhaps the injustice will burn within us and motivate us to move differently in this world.

After all, we cannot go back to what was any more than those two on that ancient road could have gone back to whatever life they had before the crucifixion and resurrection. There is no going back to “normal” after COVID-19. Something new will emerge in the coming months and years. The question is whether we are on a road that will lead to new life because we are open to the Mystery of Resurrection or are we remaining on a road that is more akin to crucifixion because we are unwilling to risk change for the sake of our companions on the journey.

We are all on the journey. With whom are we traveling? Do we recognize the Risen Christ who accompanies us? Will we allow our eyes to be opened and our hearts to burn within us?

RCL – Year A – Third Sunday of Easter – April 26, 2020
Acts 2:14a, 36-41
Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19
1 Peter 1:17-23
Luke 24:13-35

Photo: CC0image by René Schindler

A Living Hope

I like Thomas. I’ve always liked Thomas. He was falsely labeled as “doubting Thomas.” Imagine being Thomas. Jesus died a week before and you’ve been sequestered with the rest of the 11 for fear of the Jewish and Roman authorities. Someone has to go out for supplies and so you go. Never would you have imagined the tales told upon your return. Jesus walked through the locked door and breathed the Holy Spirit on the 10 gathered there. You aren’t happy about this at all. Are they telling the truth? Are they messing with you? If they are telling the truth and it all happened, why weren’t you included? Maybe your response isn’t doubt so much as it is hurt feelings. No one likes to be left out of something so important.

If Thomas’ response was based on feeling left out and hurt, it makes more sense. The resurrected Christ shows up when he wasn’t there. Who could blame him for saying that he wouldn’t believe unless he saw and touched Jesus for himself? Surely, most of us can relate to that? As the kid who was always picked last for elementary school gym class activities, I feel for Thomas and don’t blame him for being angry, hurt, and more than a little jealous.

That being said, I’m not sure how helpful looking at this aspect of the story is for us in these days of COVID-19. After all, aren’t we all pretty much locked in our homes for fear of the virus? Many of us are complaining about not “feeling” the season of Easter. Who can believe in the possibility of resurrection when fear, death, and grief are literally all around us? Aren’t we better off joining Thomas in his feelings and declaring that we aren’t going to believe unless we see or touch resurrection for ourselves?

If we are honest about where we are at, we might discover something amazingly powerful and hopeful in this overly familiar story. If we can acknowledge our fear, our doubt, our grief, our sadness, and our anger over all that COVID-19 has done to disrupt and destroy our sense of “normal,” then we might be ready to figure out where God is in the midst of this.

John tells us that Jesus entered the room through locked doors, not once but twice. No amount of fear or grief or anger or sadness or jealousy kept out the Risen Christ. Moreover, Christ entered the room to breathe peace, the peace of the Holy Spirit. I imagine Jesus breath of life blowing away the dust of fear and the cobwebs of anxiety to allow a bit of hope and healing to shine through. This breath of peace made it possible for those huddled in that room to begin to imagine a future without Jesus with them, a future that could bring hope and healing to the wider world. This is the real miracle in this story. The Risen Christ woke up the church, or those who would become church.

No locked doors can stop the Risen Christ from entering in. The fact that the doors of our churches are locked and that we are all scattered will not stop the Risen Christ from entering in. Assuming that the Risen Christ is still about breathing out the Holy Spirit, then it’s possible for the dust of fear and the cobwebs of anxiety to be blown off of us – no matter how we are gathering. What might happen if the breath of life is awakening the church anew right now?

Resurrection is not usually the response we have to death and destruction. Yet, it is God’s response. Our reluctance to believe or participate in resurrection does not prevent it from happening. The planet is awakening in new ways while humanity is sheltering in place. Why not the church, too? Why not humanity as a whole? After all, with God all things are possible, even the Body of Christ rising up to new life in the midst of COVID-19 destruction.

The power of the Holy Spirit, the presence of the Risen Christ is not dependent on our buildings, our rituals, or our traditions, fortunately for us. Let’s all take a deep breath and look around to find out what God is doing in our midst and then join in – keeping to a faithful physical distance, of course. Maybe we might get lucky enough to see and touch resurrection for ourselves. Or, maybe, just being a part of it means we don’t have to touch anything.

Peace be with you, my friends, as we all do this new thing and expect the Risen Christ to show up in our relationships with one another.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By God’s great mercy God has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading…

RCL – Year A – Second Sunday of Easter – April 19, 2020
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31

Photo: CC0image by DreamyArt

Dreams, Visions, Hope, and New Life

During my years as a psychiatric chaplain, I frequently had very vivid dreams that would entangle my every day with my love for urban fantasy novels (and tv shows) and with my theological pursuits. In these dreams I would have to solve some unsolvable puzzle or complete some heroic act which would result in the world being rid of all evil. Were these dreams influenced by providing spiritual care to people in the midst of psychiatric crisis and my frequent feelings of helplessness? Yes. On the other hand, I found hope in them as well. No matter what monsters or demons I fought in my dreams, failure was never a possibility nor was giving up. In my dreams I found the courage, strength, and ingenuity I needed. My dreaming self was always tenacious and often triumphant, though it was not unusual for me to wake up before evil was contained.

Why talk about these dreams now? For the last several nights, I’ve had similar kinds of vivid dreams. One I had to coach an army of Sisyphean-like people on how to keep moving the stones even when they rolled back or the mountain peak seemed no closer. In another my task was to stand at the mouth of a cave and call all faith-filled people to come out, that their time to hide in the Platonic cave had come to end. Last night I had to find a way to unite a million people who had never met without them ever meeting. If I accomplished this task, a million more people would not die and the earth would enter a new age.

Once again these dreams are an odd blend of life, urban fantasy, and theology. The response to COVID-19 ranges from willful ignorance to preparing for the apocalypse. While some are able to ignore all signs of crisis, most of us are dreading the likelihood of illness and more death than we have seen in recent history. Apocalyptic language makes a degree of sense. However, I am a dreamer of dreams and receiver of visions. I see hope when most people speak of despair and desperation. I think of Ezekiel and his visionary valley and of Lazarus walking out of a tomb and the promise of God’s steadfast love allows me to take a deep breath. Preparation is helpful; panic is not. New life is the birthright of the people of God. This is not to say that faithful people have not or will not be included in the millions who will die from COVID-19. Faith is no protection against any virus. The promise of new life is lived out in community.

It’s rare that we witness a true turning point in society or in church and are aware that it is indeed a turning point. Nearly every aspect of life will be different after COVID-19. Church life will be different after this crisis. No matter how we resist the changes necessary to remain in community while “sheltering in place” or in a “lockdown,” church needs to adapt to what is faster than church has ever adapted to anything. I believe the church universal has been in serious danger of being the dry bones in Ezekiel’s vision. Our reluctance to change enough to meet the needs of the world around us meant that we were dying, slowly, but dying nonetheless. And, yet, the breath of God is still capable of creating new sinews and flesh on our bones.

I have had an inescapable vision haunting my waking hours and influencing my dreams. In the midst of this crisis, I hear Jesus calling the church out of the tomb we have inhabited. I hear Jesus calling us to let go of so much that has unnecessarily defined us and enter into new life. God’s steadfast love for the whole of Creation cannot be undone by a virus. Even though many of us may die, the church will yet live. However, we must not be tied to worshiping in buildings or in familiar sanctuaries. We must not think that the story of Holy Week and Easter only has power in sanctuaries crowded with visitors and lilies. The story of God’s amazing love, love that can overcome any destruction and devastation humanity can dish out or experience, can be told online by virtual connection. In the middle of world-changing crisis it is possible for the church to be transformed and brought to new life.

In these days and weeks where we are physically distancing from one another, we have an excellent opportunity to bridge the communal and spiritual gap. We can respond to Jesus call and come out of the valley with new sinew and new flesh on our old, dry bones. We can move out of the tomb of traditions and experience transformation and resurrection into a Body of Christ as yet unknown and unrecognized.

In these fear-filled and uncertain days may we all be dreamers of dreams and receivers of visions powerful enough to bring life in response to death. May we find hope in the steadfast love of God. Wherever you are be safe, be well, be church.

More sermon help here.

RCL – Year A – Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 29, 2020
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45

Photo: CC0image by AKS