Ramblings

"Journey of Hope" - Easter Sunday April 4, 2021

Sermon preached at the Chapel of Hope, Yokosuka Naval Base, Japan and at All Saints International Congregation, Nagoya, Japan for Easter Sunday based on the Mark 16: 1-8

She checks her social media around 10 times a day. Twitter and Facebook are her main sites, but she also looks at Google for news. Since the start of the pandemic, her habit has increased significantly. “I’m a doom-scroller,” she admits to the Healthline website. Yes, this 26-year-old speech therapist confesses that she has a problem. Doom-scrolling is the act of endlessly scrolling down news apps, Twitter, and social media, reading all the news. “The pandemic has exacerbated these habits in many ways,” says a New York psychologist, “including the fact that there is no shortage of doomsday news.” [1]

If doom-scrolling is part of your daily routine, you are not alone. Did you know that in an average day, a person now scrolls through 22.7 meters (74.5 feet) on their smartphones?  Twitter use has jumped 24 percent since the start of the pandemic last year, and Facebook is up 27 percent.

The problem with this scrolling habit is that it can lead to higher stress. We think that keeping up with the latest will lessen our anxiety, but it increases it. Doom-scrolling is an “unsatisfying addiction,” says one clinical psychologist. Instead of making us feel safer, it raises our level of fear, anxiety, and stress.

So, does this sound familiar? Wanting to stay informed, we end up being sucked into doom and gloom, maybe even spiraling into despair.  We are not the first to experience this phenomenon just consider the three women who visited the tomb on Easter morning.

Mark tells us that when the Sabbath was over, “Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint [Jesus]. And early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb” (16:1-2).

What were they feeling, however?  Their Rabbi had been killed in a humiliating death by asphyxiation on a cross. From there his body had been transported and then laid in a cave-like tomb, and a large stone had been rolled against the door. As they were walking along, Mark tells us that they had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” (v. 3).  There was the anxiety about how they would remove the stone for the ritual observance of burial, certainly however we also know they were feeling a combination of grief over the death of Jesus, as well as stress about the future, what his death by a combination of religious and political conspiracy meant for their community and own personal lives. 

But when they arrived, “they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back” (v. 4).  Now I am going to do a play on words, but I think it is helpful: their doom-scrolling was met by an act of stone-rolling. Finally, some good news!  Or is it?

Not only was the stone rolled back and the tomb empty they were further startled for as “they entered the tomb,” but “they” also “saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed” (v. 5). The man said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised” (v. 6). Their doom-scrolling had them focusing them on bad news, their current situation and all that had led up to this day, but the words of the young man gave them reason to hope.

But then the man ordered them to go “tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you” (v. 7). The young man changed their focus from doom and gloom to a new possibility and direction. He promised them that Jesus was going ahead of them, and that they would see him in Galilee.

No wonder that the women fled the tomb, filled with a mix of terror and amazement and no wonder Mark adds these words.  The women were unable to follow through with the command, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (v. 8).

What was true for them can also be true for us.  I do not know your personal habits regarding social media specifically and internet use including email in general.  However, I sense all of us know that we can for example turn off Twitter, no longer review posts on Facebook, we can avoid our email, TV and radio but escaping doom and gloom is not that straightforward.  Experts say that the solution to doom-scrolling is to break out of the “vicious cycle of negativity.”

That for me is a glimmer of the complex Easter message for the women and for us for although we appreciate those positive messages, hope is hard to come by. Certainly, we have the hope through the good news of Easter in that God has acted in our lives to break the cycle of our broken patterns of sinfulness.  Sin can be full of intention. We know exactly what we are doing when we capitulate to temptation and embrace the distortion as if it is acceptable.  Yet, sin is so inescapably a part of being human that it is even baked into the very fabric of who we are.

But the message of hope is complex.  The women did not go to the tomb looking for hope. They were searching for a place to grieve. They wanted to be left alone in despair. “Our brains are crazy,” writes Tyler Tervooren in HuffPost. “Every day they lie to us about how terrible things are or how bad they’re going to be, but when we finally ignore the fear [we] realize everything’s pretty much okay, the world will keep turning, and we’re going to survive.”

Yes, the world will keep turning, but Easter is more than a straightforward message to stop doom-scrolling.  It also includes the terrifying prospect that God called these women to return to the same world that crucified Jesus with a dangerous gift: hope in the power of God, the unending reservoir of forgiveness and an abundance of love. We are invited in this message of hope not only to see that the stone has been rolled back, to believe that Jesus has been raised, but as well as focus on the future where our risen Lord is ahead of us and waiting for us.

The women were so afraid of the real stone that they never dreamed that God would take action to roll it away. The other disciples were so afraid they could not even venture out of the room.  Their brains were processing how terrible things were by adding to how bad things were going to be.  But then God replaced their doom-scrolling with stone-rolling into a journey of hope with the empty tomb as the first step.  Dr. Esau McCaulley, assistant professor of New Testament put it this way in a recent article in the New York Times: “As we leave the tombs of quarantine, a return to normal would be a disaster unless we recognize that we are going back to a world desperately in need of healing.”[2]

Fifty-three years ago, today, on April 4^th, 1968, the non-violent activist for justice, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.  Out of that deep despair, British pastor Brian Wren wrote a new hymn for that Easter Sunday which was 10 days after the assassination. “Christ Is Alive!” was written by Wren to acknowledge this terrible loss while also proclaiming the resurrection of Jesus.  “Christ is alive!” he wrote. “Let Christians sing. The cross stands empty to the sky. Let streets and homes with praises ring. Love, drowned in death, shall never die.” Yes, a terrible crime had been committed. An awful injustice had been done. But now the cross was empty, and love would never die.

The hymn makes clear that the resurrection is not stuck in history, but a reality for every time. The risen Christ, says Brian Wren, is “saving, healing, here and now, and touching every place and time.” Jesus encounters human suffering whenever it is experienced. In the face of today’s racism and violence, Jesus “suffers still, yet loves the more.” The hymn then ends with the good news of “justice, love and praise.”[3]

Jesus is not dead in the tomb. Instead, this journey of hope means that Christ is found ahead of us with those who act with justice, love, and praise. So certainly, let us look up instead of down at our screens and open our eyes, and see that Jesus is alive and well.  Doom-scrolling traps us in a vicious cycle of negativity that fuels our anxiety, but the first step of Easter is the empty tomb.  This is what Jesus was doing by moving ahead of his disciples to Galilee, and what he is doing by going ahead of us today.  The stone has been rolled away and our Lord is calling us forward.  Christ is Risen, He is risen indeed.  Alleluia!  Amen.

 

[1] Curley, Christopher. “‘Doomscrolling’ During COVID-19: What It Does to You and How You Can Avoid It.” Healthline, July 26, 2020, www.healthline.com.

[2] Opinion | The Unsettling Power of Easter - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

[3] Hawn, C. Michael. “History of Hymns: Pastor writes Easter hymn for a time of great turmoil.” Discipleship Ministries: The United Methodist Church, May 21, 2013, www.umcdiscipleship.org.

 

"Through the Lens of Hebrews" - 3/21/2021

Sermon shared via Zoom on March 21, 2020 with Nagoya All Saints International Congregation in Nagoya, Japan.  Based on the lectionary for that Sunday particularly Hebrews 5: 5-10 and John 12: 20-33. 

The book of Hebrews in the New Testament makes few appearances in our weekly lectionary cycle.  And the portions from the Old Testament describing the priesthood and its rituals are even less visible. A faithful worshiper can go a long time without forming any idea of who Melchizedek is and what it means to be a priest according to his order.

It could be because the biblical names we usually associate with Jesus in the Gospels are from not the priestly but the prophetic tradition like Elijah, Moses.  And many of us are more steeped in the prophetic literature --- Isaiah, Jeremiah for example --- of the Old Testament than its ritual material.  Still, we have an important image here in Hebrews.  And one the I want to begin with because it helps us frame the Gospel.

Jesus Christ as a high priest as described by the author of Hebrew prompts us to remember what the priestly function does in relating God to the people. The interchange between humans and God is not merely about faith and ethical behavior in response to instruction and grace. There is also a whole sacrificial and intercessory system which Christians over the ages have variously claimed is abolished, superseded, or recapitulated and transformed by Jesus Christ. 

Without trying to resolve that whole thicket of questions and views, it is worth looking at the sacrificial language of today’s Hebrew's passage before we get into the lavish intercessory prayer in John’s Gospel. “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears,” says Hebrews. His priestly service however was not the one practiced in the Temple, and it was not merely serving as a sacrificial victim, just a slaughtered lamb. But Hebrews images his role as one of mediation between God and humans --- not just revealing God nor establishing a new standard of conduct or a different worldview --- but interceding with God on our behalf. 

Even if this priestly image and its theological implications can be hard to discern for most of us, that role lives on in the simple fact of our prayers that conclude with “through Christ our Lord.”  The reason we conclude our prayers is because Jesus Christ is our intercessory with God.  The suggestion is that our own petitions pass through him.

Starting from Hebrews and that snippet of background helps us understand today’s Gospel because if we reach the 12th chapter of John’s Gospel without a firm idea of who Jesus is or how he is supposed to have effected salvation, today provides one.

I realize that we are not hearing the whole chapter of John’ Gospel so let us review.  First, Mary at Bethany anoints Jesus, in an act that prefigures his burial but also echoes priestly and royal consecrations --- because they used oil. As does the next portion of the chapter, where Jesus enters Jerusalem to the acclamation of a great crowd laying down palm branches and calling him “King of Israel.”  We will hear more about that next week on Palm Sunday.

Which brings us to today’s portion.  The world shows up at the start of this week’s reading, symbolized in the two Greeks who ask to see him. In response, Jesus, in that moment, makes another dramatic, demanding announcement: the time for his glorification --- by means of his violent public death --- is at hand.

As Jesus narrates his coming death, phrases ring like echoes of other parts of the New Testament. When Jesus says that only grain that dies and falls into the earth can bring forth fruit, we hear the Apostle Paul’s analogy of the dying seed and the body (1 Cor. 15:35–44).  Jesus acknowledges that his soul is troubled but pointedly declines to pray for deliverance, in contrast to the agony depicted in the synoptic Gospels at the Garden of Gethsemane.  Instead of agony we have a voice that comes from heaven, recalling those Gospels’ accounts of Jesus’ baptism and transfiguration.

Then instead of “take this cup from me imagery,” Jesus declares, “Now is the judgment of this world, now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

As an anticipation of Jesus’ crucifixion, it is fair to say that this passage goes further --- making claims both stronger and more paradoxical --- than anything in the other Gospels. This moment of trial will be summed up not as betrayal or suffering but as being “lifted up,” in which Jesus will “draw all people” to himself.

John’s distinctive vocabulary is displayed here. The verb we translate as “lifted up” appears twice before in the Gospel --- when Jesus says the Son of Man will be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent (3:14) and when he says he will be revealed when he is lifted up (8:28). Elsewhere this word is used in an unequivocal sense of being exalted. Only in John does this exaltation include the cross, creating one combined image of crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension.

Taken together, these words create a majestic but challenging picture of what Jesus is accomplishing. In being lifted up on the cross, Jesus will exert a magnetic pull on “all people.” Commentators have discussed for centuries over the implications. When the Father, or Jesus, draws someone, is this an invitation that we may decline, or an enabling of belief that may exist in all people?

What does “all people” mean?  Is it an invitation rather than actual change?  That seems odd as well because Jesus does not say: “When I am lifted up, I will give all people the chance to come to me.” Furthermore, John’s dramatic retelling is genuinely cosmic, with humanity merely in the foreground. And the magnetism Jesus exerts in this Gospel is more than charisma or persuasion. It rearranges and reveals the world.

Having wrestled for years with these passages, I still struggle to make sense of them.  For me I am thankful that we have examples. At his birth, he attracted shepherds to a Bethlehem hillside, and wise men from afar. In the temple when he was 12 years old, the wise and the learned gathered round to hear him. As an adult, Jesus called to his side, fishermen who left their nets and tax collectors who abandoned their account books. Even the wise Pharisee, Nicodemus, came to him by night, to learn how to be “born from above.”  Jesus called to his side women of every description --- everyone from the practical, no-nonsense Martha to her dreamy sister, Mary. Even the Roman governor, Pilate, felt the pull of his magnetism as he interrogated him. 

Second, as I mentioned it is helpful to see this in context with the Book of Hebrews that gives us an image of Jesus we may not have considered, as High Priest who draws us together.

For illustration, in 2016 I had the privilege of visiting the Vatican in Rome.  Early one Sunday with two others, we went and stood in line with hundreds of others from around the world.  The gates were opened and by the order of when we arrived, we sat or stood in places around a massive square.  In the square, barricades provided not only our locations, but a road for the “pope mobile,” a small car with a bulletproof enclosure with a chair for the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church to sit.  Then at the appropriate time, out in this small car came Pope Francis I with a retinue of guards and assistants.  As they drove by, they came past where I was sitting, as we all waved and clapped.  Some tried to handle him children to bless, or pieces of clothing to touch. 

Although as remarkable of an experience as that was, Jesus as High Priest in John is painting a unique image, because when Jesus is drawing all people to himself as High Priest, it is not in a heavenly courtyard (although that may come later), rather it is in the descending figure of the falling grain. It is an image of dying to the world, to security, even to the power.  I have placed a lot of seeds in the ground, and I have nurtured the sprouts as they become plants and bear fruit. I have watched seeds bring forth life --- not ceasing to have vital functions but pushing off the old to allow the new to emerge and mature.

Today, Jesus affirms that he is a High Priest, one that dies so that we can live.  The mercy of God, the salvation of my life, is God’s vulnerability.  What is being lifted is not robed in majesty where we can visit once a year, and admire, but in humility through death on a cross which in a mysterious way can bring all people into a wholly, new relationship with God.  Jesus is a mediator but one that is not tied to time and space.  Thankfully, the lectionary editors felt it was helpful, as I do, to interpret today’s gospel through the book of Hebrews as we prepare for Holy Week and the momentous event of Jesus on the cross.  Amen.

 

"Where does our Lenten Journey begin?" - 2/21/2021

A version of a sermon I presented to All Saints Internation congregation in Nagoya, Japan.

As disciples of Jesus Christ our faith is not an escape from but an entry point into --- the joy and resurrection of Easter.  But to get to Easter we are to go through the cross and tomb.  It is a journey of trust, truth, and transparency.

Before we begin let us back up.  On Ash Wednesday this past week (February 17) a journey began called Lent that we take with God for 40 days before Easter.  The word “lent” is derived from the old English word “to lengthen,” as in the lengthening of days to Spring.  Lent began on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Thursday as the count does not include Sundays --- those are days of rest and reflection.  But the most interesting part for me is the number 40. 

Forty is not arbitrary.  In the Bible, there are several important Biblical events that are measured in the number 40; 40 years in the journey from Egypt to the promised land for one.  And of course, as we hear today, Jesus goes out into the wilderness for 40 days, where he wrestles with evil, which challenges his identity and faith.  The author of Mark says he is “tempted by Satan,” evil personified.  Forty days of being tested and tempted in the wilderness. At the end of those 40 days, Jesus emerges, but it does not get any easier. The greatest challenges are still to come. 

In other words, these 40 days in wilderness are just the beginning.  So, what can these 40 days tell us as we ourselves journey to the cross? 

Let us move on to the lesson.  Scholars debate how much Jesus knows at this early point in the story. I do not know if Jesus understands exactly how it will all unfold, all the details.  I think he knows something.  Something has begun that will test his will and resolve and faithfulness. As the passage opens, and the Gospel of Mark is so consistent this way --- no mincing of words --- we find Jesus being baptized in the Jordan River by his cousin, John. A voice from heaven breaks through the sounds of the rushing water and cutting through the hubbub of a crowd, the Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove. “You are my son, the Beloved,” says the voice; “with you I am well pleased” (v. 11).

This event affirms once again that God is the one who gives Jesus his identity, marking him as someone special, someone who has God’s favor. In a very real sense, Jesus begins his ministry equipped and protected with nothing less than the full love of a divine parent.  Jesus goes forth into the wilderness with a bond --- a trust --- knowing in a powerful way that he is loved.  This is the first key learning for me.  We are loved and that is where every day begins.

The Gospel of Mark does not expound much on the temptations that Jesus faced out in the wilderness, but the gospels of Matthew and Luke do.

Now reminded that he is fitted with God’s love, the first temptation is like a bullying kid in a school playground, coming fast and furious in the first couple of days.  Satan dares Jesus to do something risky. Using Scripture as the basis for his response, Jesus does not take the leap: Satan says, “Satisfy your hunger and turn these stones to bread.” Jesus in response points to self-denial, recognizing that everything comes from God and that God provides.  This is for me the second key learning; a reminder that in these 40 days not everything is about us.  As important as we may be, the universe does not revolve around us, certainly God does not.  Everything comes from God and God provides.

In the next temptation I have always imagined it happening later after Jesus had some time to get hungrier, thirstier, and more alone.  Conceivably this second temptation came when Jesus is debating if he did the right thing.  In this temptation personified evil takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple. “Jump off,” says the bully, “and land unharmed. If you are so great, God will protect you.” Jesus responds with common sense, knowing that people who have real power do not need to show it off or use it to suit their own ends.  This is the third key learning for me, reason is not antithetical to our Christian journey these 40 days. 

Then there comes the third temptation, again another large one.  Perhaps after the hunger in Jesus had grown to the point of desperation when out of the haze and keenness of his hunger in this journey he hears — “All the kingdoms of the world can be yours,” says Satan, “if you’ll only worship me.” To which Jesus responds with humility --- the most difficult of the temptations for us at this point --- and says that God is the only one worth serving.  An important lesson like the first temptation but important coming right after Ash Wednesday when we are reminded that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

What does all this mean for all of us?  And why put this gospel at the near beginning of our own Lenten journey?  Maybe you do not need a reminder.  As for me it is good that we have this gospel near the beginning, for as we go out into a world fraught with so many temptations and potential pitfalls, our first line of defense begins with our own baptism; to know that God loves us.  That we are “beloved” because of God’s grace. The knowledge and experience, forged through the day-to-day relationship we walk in with God, are better predictors of heart, mind, and soul protection than any memory verses.  As we know that God cares for us, we can move out smartly to take on the bumps and jumps the day throws at us.  The other learnings come next --- humility, that not everything is about us, and that reason is important are helpful, but they all begin with that foundation piece, I am loved.

I could end there but then we would be avoiding this harsh truth, remember Jesus is driven by the Spirit into a wilderness; a physical place where few people go.  But this “wilderness” is more than physical --- if that was not enough --- it is spiritually as well, and this is even more tricky.  I mean if I cannot handle missing a meal, there is always a convenience store I can stop at.  Spiritual wildernesses on the other hand are those places where few of us ever want to go and many convenient exits to help us avoid it. Who wants to go where we wrestle with ourselves, and our spirit, and our relationship with God?   This is the transparency in our Lenten journey.

What good is that spiritual wrestling?  We cannot put it on a résumé.  We cannot earn any money from it; I suppose we could write a bestseller.  Spiritual wrestling with evil does not really make our lives easier; it may even make it harder.  So why do it?

Because in transparency, let us admit it, we have often been in the wilderness, maybe not the Mongolian desert, but wilderness, nonetheless.  The reality of our lives is that we spend a lot of time doing the best we can. We spend a lot of time facing temptation and wrestling with God, a lot of time with various demons if you will.

And in all transparency, this faith thing is hard.  Thus, we have today’s gospel to recenter our journeys. In Lent we can spend wilderness days not alone but with one who has been there before, reminded daily that we are not alone. That is good news.

Whatever that spiritual and physical wilderness may include, God looks at us with nothing but compassion and love. After all, God watched God’s own child go through challenging times. There is more good news, too. Because sometimes our spiritual wilderness can do more than challenge us. They can change us for it going through the desolate places, the painful places, we can also find joy.  Sometimes we cannot avoid hitting rock bottom before we can find the solid ground of our being.  Lent is a season for discoveries like that.

Lent is a physical countdown certainly, but it is intended for greater depth of introspection. For 40 days we are asked to go into a wilderness places and to prepare ourselves for the journey to the cross.  What will we do to quicken our pulse, remind us of our hunger?  Whatever it may be in these lengthening days we are to wrestle with the hard stuff. To face temptation and to choose to follow Christ anyway.

None of us should be surprised that we would rather jump to the end --- “Easter” --- because many like celebrations; not everyone likes setting up for it. But those of us who choose to make this 40-day wilderness journey of trust, truth and transparency may discover something meaningful along the way like the fact that Christ is there, too.  Amen.

 

"To Ephiphanize" - 1-17-2021

Sermon preached online to Nagoya All Saints International Church based on the readings for the Second Sunday after Epiphany (RCL).

When you went to school did you have science fairs?  I certainly did.  Science fairs are where students or teams of students will research a science topic, fashion an experiment, present their results and project to their fellow students, judges and the public.  Recently, I found myself remembering my first science fair. It was in sixth grade, and my experiment was on the topic of "Reflections." It was a simple experiment using water and milk, a clear glass bottle, water, a mirror, dirt, a bell, a flashlight, and few other miscellaneous items and of course poster board.  Anyway, for my work, I got a blue ribbon not the top grand prize but better than a second place red or third place white ribbon.

What I mostly remember about the whole event however was not the science it was the reaction of the person at the table next to me, a seventh grader, who got a red ribbon, and I knew why! When the judges came by to ask us about our projects, I was able to answer their questions and show how my experiment worked, my thesis and results, whereas when they came to her --- I was listening as I was right next to her --- she could barely describe her topic, much less answer the questions.

Later that night, when we showed our projects to the community, with my blue and her red, she kept looking over at me with a frown … "but yours looks so bad." This was true! Mine looked like it had been haphazardly slapped together whereas her presentation was gorgeous; a lot of time had been spent on her presentation!

Years later I still remember that event in my life. That experience taught me a valuable lesson.  The judges were less concerned about the packaging and more interested in what we learned and if we were able to express it.

As you know we are in the next chapter after Christmas --- the season of Epiphany --- when we explore what does this incarnation, this God in a baby --- this manifestation of truth, hope and light that comes into our world in Jesus Christ --- what does it mean?  Now comes the time to ask: We had the packaging of Christmas, the lights and tree but what have we learned?  “Come and see what?”

Think of it this way, if we had a Theology Fair with four students ---Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John --- assigned to do a project all with the same topic, Jesus Christ.  They had all prepared and worked hard and were lined up before us and we happened to be standing listening in, as they described Jesus Christ to the judges --- what would we hear?

First is Mark; scholars believe the oldest of the gospels. Mark includes nothing about the birth of Jesus. Mark's focus is straightforward and to the point, it is his three-year ministry, but the most important point is the death of Jesus Christ on the cross.  Mark’s poster board has only one picture – a cross.  Mark does not know or does not care to tell us of Jesus' origins, for example so he says nothing at all.

Then we come to Matthew's table. Matthew is more measured and begins by explaining the lineage of Jesus from Abraham, through David, to Joseph. For Matthew, the important point is that Jesus is the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament to usher in the Kingdom of God. That point is repeated through his whole presentation.  Jesus is referred to early on as the Messiah and named "For He will save His people from their sins." If Matthew had a poster board it would have charts. 

For Luke's table, he altogether paints a different picture again and focuses more on the identity of Jesus as evidence of God at work, more historical in nature. Jesus is described in terms of great, holy, and full of wisdom and grace, healing people and constantly being called the Son of God and that this kingdom of God has special meaning for the poor.  Luke’s poster board would be a collage of images and protest artwork.

And then we come to John. The last but the most gifted of the four gospel tables in John's way with words. John has the largest vocabulary, the most soaring and elaborate of poetic strokes, as he reflects on the meaning of the birth of Christ. His is not explanation, or even chronological so does not begin with an angel visiting a virgin. Instead, we begin with the Word that is incarnate in Jesus and this presentation of Jesus cannot be explained with spoken word.  

In comparison to the other three presentations, John's would be to do away with poster board altogether. "In the beginning was the Word," John says. And by "the beginning," he means the beginning of time before time even existed. When God looked out on nothingness, before anything was created, the Word was with God.

It would be great to have a Theology Fair in our church, with a panel of judges to judge the tables of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, with enthusiastic children and proud, supportive parents. It would be great to have hundreds of people attending with NHK filming each response from each of the four presentations.

That of course that is exactly the issue that I learned back in sixth grade; in this case each of the gospels knows well the subject, Jesus Christ. The whole point is that they are so passionate that they want us to understand as well on a subject where they are all correct.   Their interest is not on which version is most beautiful, for we are not judging a presentation on how it looks.  They all have have a “come and see” presentation.

Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John are not interested in prizes, instead, they want to share what they learned about God and if there are lonely hearts, hungry bellies, broken souls, if there is injustice, then the light and the warmth of the gospel needs to be repeated.  The authors of these gospels are not interested in self-promotion or presentation rather if we honor our faith by serving God as they learned and experienced through Jesus Christ, before we serve ourselves, then the nations will see God's justice, and the whole world will glimpse God's glory; we will shine with the radiance of Christ's glory, that Christ may be known and worshiped to the ends of the earth --- and our flesh will transmit God's light.

I think back to that young woman next me at the science fair whose visual presentation could have won a blue ribbon, yet who struggled to articulate her presentation in the most basic of terms.  We may feel the same as Christians, like we must clean up and present our best face rather than focus on the subject matter.  But then that would suggest that faith is all knowledge based as well, and that is not true.

How do we break out of this conundrum?  One key point is that scholars have noted that none of the Gospel writers wrote in a vacuum the community behind the authors were key. Each was writing too and responding to their various contexts each of whom had uniquely diverse questions, concerns, society pressures, joys, and sorrows.

For example, for the community around John rather than asking the question "how is Jesus like God?" their question was, "how is God like Jesus?" John answered by saying that Jesus imitated God so clearly that it can be shown that God is love and has loved all humanity without distinction or disparity and reconciles us without any vengeance or retaliation for our separation from God.

Christmas is over, the presentations are done.  Now we have the season of Epiphany, when as a family of God we come together to support each other as we present Christ to the world.  We are the ones asked to make presentations on what we have learned to all those we meet.  Will be more concerned on how fancy is our visual display? Or are we ready to pursue justice, to bring all to God's table for a taste of forgiveness?  What would we put on our poster board about God through Jesus Christ, or do we have something altogether different? What is our “come and see;” how do we “epiphanize” or share the light of Christ with others.  Amen.

"Let it be" - 12/20/2020

Sermon based on Luke 1: 26-38; also see Luke 1: 5-24 for the 4th Sunday of Advent.  Shared via Zoom with Nagoya All Saints International Congregation

In a celebrated video commencement speech to graduating High School seniors in the United Sates posted online on May 15, 2020 the talk show host, actress, businesswoman and philanthropist Oprah Winfrey said: "I know you may not feel like it, but you are, indeed, the chosen class for such a time as this.”  Winfrey continued, "You're also a united class, the pandemic class, that has the entire world striving to graduate with you.[1]  Even though there may not be pomp because of our circumstances, never has a graduating class been called to step into the future with more purpose, vision, passion, and energy and hope."

"It's really OK to not have all the answers," Winfrey added. "The answers will come for sure if you can accept not knowing long enough to get still and stay still long enough for new thoughts to take root in your more quiet, deeper, truer self. The noise of the world drowns out the sound of you. You need to get still to listen.”

Fast forward to December, and here we are those chosen by happenstance and evolutionary biology as the pandemic people. I do not know about you, but I reach this point on one hand grateful for so much, as well as sad, tinged with grief and tired.  I cannot wait for this year to be over but also left wondering “what next?  Or in other words, I am ready for some return to “normalcy” with trepidation.

It is with 2020 and the hoped for “new normal” in 2021 in mind, that I read the gospel, the news to a young virgin Mary, that she was going to have a baby --- but not just any baby; "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David."

What a graduation for this poor, young woman.  Pregnant and not just a baby, --- but THE baby! We could spend time just on that theme --- the promise of a messiah. However, I was once again struck by Mary's reaction to this drama in her life and reminded that to understand it more fully, it is helpful to follow Luke’s narrative arc.  You see, the author of Luke wrote Mary's response right after elderly Zechariah's reaction to the news that he and his similarly aged wife, Elizabeth would have a child later to be known as John the Baptist.

Even though the promises made to Mary were much greater --- and therefore should have been harder to believe --- Mary's response is seen in the light of Zechariah's, which is why they are back-to-back in Luke.

When the angel finished his announcement, Mary replied with, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" Zechariah's response on the other hand was different, Zechariah begins with, "How will I know that this is so?” but then adds: “For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years." There is a subtle but important difference at work here. Zechariah wanted proof, whereas Mary wanted understanding.

Subtlety you may have also noticed that Luke does not spend much time with the response from Elizabeth to this extraordinary news.  Instead, Zechariah's response reveals fundamental calculations: age, when was the last time they had been physically intimate, etc.  The focus is on Zechariah and good, logical reasons for concluding that it was near impossible --- like Mary’s in that sense --- to understand the mechanics of it all. That means Zechariah's question really is, "Why should we believe something as preposterous as that?"

If we then compare Zechariah to Mary, we are left with this question: which is harder to believe, that an older couple, well past childbearing years, should have a child or that a virgin would conceive and give birth to a son?  Without bringing in other possibilities, Mary was not a virgin, Elizabeth was having an extra marital affair, and we take both miracles at face value, which bring us back to their response: Mary sought understanding, and Zechariah wanted proof.

Think of this way, after Zechariah asked his question, he was told by the angel that he will now remain … silent, unable to talk until the birth of his son. Whereas the angel responded to Mary's with words of assurance to which Mary responded: "Here am I, a servant --- slave --- of the Lord.  Let it be with me according to your word."

This is at the heart of Luke's purpose in sharing these two stories back-to-back.  In both miracle birth's that of Jesus and John --- both can only be met with a response beyond the miracles themselves.  We humans can do nothing to bring about what is going to happen, rather the focus is on our response.  Luke paints a picture: We can demand proof and experience silence or be surprised by the miracle but then willing to "let it be to me."

This subtle distinction, this awareness of course has been noticed by many, just remember the lyrics of the song from the Beatles. "When I find myself in times of trouble / Mother Mary comes to me / speaking words of wisdom, let it be."  Constructively “Letting things be” is, you might say, the wisdom of Christmas and something for us to consider near the end of one year and the beginning of a new one. 

I do not know about you but for me that is something to ponder and incredibly challenging; it runs counter to my white, on the downward slope of middle aged, male, North American point of view.  Now, I want to be clear. The response of Mary does mean accepting everything that comes our way… not at all!  Because that is flip and does not recognize the complexity of this narrative.  Just imagine, although this is her first child, Mary must have known and would soon begin to experience, the daily changes; the swollen and sore breasts, tiredness, frequent desire to urinate, and nausea.  “Let it be” is not simple acquiescence.

Rather, may we be open to this mysterious gift of grace from God as we move into 2021.  How can we be less like Zechariah and more like Mary with a --- "let it be" faith --- open to change, being change, while living in trust of God’s promises in this world, at this time?  As Christmas approaches the first mysteries of God's miracles will once again be a challenge.  That alone was a challenge to Zechariah; it was to Mary. But it is a question that does not end with one overwhelming event for it continues through the season, into every day as we navigate into 2021 as Christians.

Into each step of each day into our lives, God is calling us ---in part ---to live into this new normal in this mystery of Christmas or in the words of Ms. Winfrey, that it is “really OK to not have all the answers.”  And that the answers that we do have from God “will come for sure if we can accept not knowing long enough to get still and stay still long enough for new thoughts to take root in our more quiet, deeper, truer self.”

God pulled Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary into a new “normal.”  God is calling us away from lives that may in many respects may feel pulled, tossed, and turned, --- and perhaps as jaded, and long lived, as Zechariahs’ --- to live in one that is filled with the daily surprise of love, joy, hope and peace with the possibilities of “let it be” with me.  In a way, the coinciding of a new year, with Christmas is a historical fluke, nonetheless what better way to enter the world each year from the cradle where the gift of Christmas is for all us into "Let it be with me according to your word" dear God, today and every day.  Amen.

 

[1] https://www.insider.com/oprah-class-2020-commencement-speech-video-watch-2020-5