I am The Good Shepherd

 I am The Good Shepherd

April 29, 2012

The Rev. John Wilkinson 

As some of you know, when I retired from the Navy and moved to Staunton, I bought a small farm and raised sheep, so this gospel lesson has significant meaning to me in a personal way.   After I joined Trinity I decided to peruse ordination to the Diaconate.  During that process, I took a course entitled EFM (Education for Ministry) and we studied among other things the four Gospels and were delighted when we came to John as it seemed to have huge meaning for all of us.  While engaged in the course, I found some information by a Philip Mc Larty a New Testament scholar which stated Staunton, I bought a small farm and raised sheep, so this gospel lesson has significant meaning to me in a personal way. 

After I joined Trinity I decided to peruse ordination to the  Diaconate.  During that process, I took a course entitled EFM  (Education for Ministry) and we studied among other things the four Gospels and were delighted when we came to John as it seemed to have huge meaning for all of us.  While engaged in the course, I found some information by a Philip Mc Larty a New Testament scholar which stated AOf the four gospels, John is clearest in proclaiming the divinity of Christ, so when I received my assignment to preach about today’s Gospel, I decided to reread the entire Gospel of John and it’s amazing how many references he makes to support this conclusion.

Now   In today’s opening verses of chapter one, he writes, the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  The same was in the beginning with God."


For John, it's clear: Jesus and God are one and the same. As Jesus told his disciples, "He who has seen me has seen the Father.  Jesus is the heavenly Word from which all things were created.

In the fullness of time, he came into the world to redeem us from our sins and show us how to live in peace and harmony with each other. In the classic words of John,

"The Word became flesh, and lived among us it’s not that the other gospels deny the divinity of Christ; it's just that  John emphasizes it so often. And he does so in a cryptic sort of way so that, if we're not paying close attention, we might miss it altogether. It's embedded in the phrase, "I AM."

 In a word, this is the Old Testament name for God – Yahweh –  the, creator of the heavens and the earth. We find this in the  book of Exodus and the story of the burning bush.  Moses  was Keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Ethos, when he saw a strange sight – a bush was on fire, except that it didn't seem to be consumed. He went over to take a closer look. As he stood before the bush, he heard a voice: "Take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy ground." Moses did and fell on his face, and  the voice said,  "I am the God of your father of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob I have surely seen the affliction of my people and have heard their cry, for I know their sorrows Moses didn't say a word. Then God said,   now, behold, the cry of the children of Israel has come to me and I will send you to Pharaoh, hat you may bring my people, out of Egypt."  At first Moses said,  "Who  Am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring The children of Israel out of Egypt but God wouldn't  take no  for an answer. So, Moses asked, “Behold, when  I come to the children of Israel, and tell them, The God of your fathers has sent me to you;" nd they ask me, "What is

His name? What should I tell them?' God said, 'I AM WHO I AM,' this is my name

Forever,  This is what John has picked up and placed throughout his gospel: Jesus is the great I AM of the Old Testament – God   in human form.  In the lesson for today: "I am the  good shepherd. I know my own, and I'm known by my own.  I lay down my life for the sheep."

I know one other way that the sheep will follow you and that is if you have the grain bucket. When we had sheep   whoever fed the grain would shake the bucket and the sheep would all hear it and run to where you were.  Other sheep in the pasture would see them run and come scurrying for the grain trough.     But John’s saying is only one of many examples. He also says, "I am the light of the world. He who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life."  "I am the way, the truth, and the life. Whoever lives and believes in me will never die."

John would have us to know that every time Jesus says, "I am" – and these are only four of fourteen examples in John's gospel – he is referring to himself as Yahweh, Creator of the heavens and the earth, the Word made flesh.   Of the four gospels, John is clearest in proclaiming the divinity of Christ. In the opening verses of chapter one, he writes, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. His name was in the beginning  with God."

For John, it's clear: Jesus and God are one.  He is the divine Word from which all things were created. In the fullness of time, he came into the world to redeem us from our fallen state and show us how to live in peace and harmony with each  other. In the classic words of John, "The Word became flesh,  and lived among us.  we saw his glory, From his fullness we  all received grace." It's not that the other gospels deny the divinity of Christ; it's just that John emphasizes it so. And he  does so in a cryptic sort of way so that, if we're not paying
 close attention, we might miss it altogether. It's embedded in the phrase, "I AM." In a word, this is the Old Testament name for God – Yahweh – the Lord God Almighty.

We find this in the book of Exodus and the story of the burning bush. Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, when he saw a strange sight – a bush was on fire, except  That  it didn't seem to be consumed. He went over to take a closer look. As he stood before the bush, he heard a voice: "Take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy  ground." Moses took off his sandals and fell on his face, and the voice said, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and t Jacob, I have heard their cry and I will send you to Pharaoh, that you may bring my people, thechildren of Israel, out of Egypt."
 
Pharaoh,  Then, Moses asked, "'Behold, when I come to the children of Israel, and tell them, "The God of your fathers has  sent me to you;" and they ask me, "What is his name?" What should I tell them?' God said  “I AM WHO I AM,' This is my name forever,

What I want to emphasize God's name: I AM, because this is  what John has picked up and placed throughout his gospel: Jesus is the great I AM of the Old Testament – God Almighty in human form.” I am the good shepherd. I know my own, and  I'm known by my own… I lay down my life for the sheep." But this is only one of many examples. He also says, "I am the light of the world.  "I am the way, the truth, and the life  "I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me I will still live, even if he dies.


John would have us to know that every time Jesus says, "I am"  and he is referring to himself as Yahweh, Creator of the heavens and the earth, the Word made flesh. But the best example comes in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus prays to God to take this cup –from him, at the side he hears the footsteps
 of the soldiers coming to arrest him. He asks them, "Who are you looking for?" And they reply, "Jesus of Nazareth." And  he answers, I AM." When he said this, the soldiers drew back in fear and fell prostrate on the ground before him.

Here's the point: I AM is the holy name of God, and,  throughout his gospel, this is how John refers to Jesus.
He wants us to make no mistake about it: Jesus is the Word made flesh, God Almighty in human form.  The reason this  is so important is because knowing who Jesus is helps us to be clear about who we're not.  And knowing that who we're not opens the door for us to receive the fullness of God's peace and love.  Knowing who you're not is the first step to  experiencing the fullness of God. For example, instead of having to have all the answers and be totally self-sufficient, we can look to God to lead and guide us and supply our needs  along the way. God calls us to trust him and live by faith. Jesus told his disciples not to worry about such things as food and clothing that God would provide.   Thenhe said, "But seek first God's Kingdom, and his righteousness; knowing the great I AM means we don't have to have all the answers. We can live with a certain amount of ambiguity. Knowing Jesus also means it's not up to us to call the shots. We can be responsible without feeling like the weight of the world is on our shoulders.


Remember also what Jesus said to his disciples, come to me, all  you who labor and are heavily burdened, And I will give you  rest. In Jesus' day the Pharisees so emphasized the letter of the Law that no one could possibly measure up. Instead, Jesus emphasized the spirit of the Law and taught his disciples That the secret to life in all its abundance is to live in a  Community with each other. "Bear one another's burdens.


Each of us has an important role to  play in the building of God's kingdom on earth, but it's not  all up to us. It’s in God's hands, not ours. It’s easy to look over your shoulder and compare your lot in life to others. This can be a fatal trap. It leads to resentment, the feeling that Others are getting a better shake than you. It also leads to passing judgments – which others aren’t getting the punishment they deserve. Either way, it amounts to playing  God,. Jesus said, “Don’t judge,  so that you won’t be judged. It’s not for us to say who’s righteous and who’s not, that’s for God, to say.

O.K., here’s where I’d like to conclude: Jesus is the great’
I  AM, God Almighty in human form. And knowing who he is
 can make all the difference for us in availing ourselves of
 the power of his love. I’ll end with just one more example: Jesus said, “I am the bread of ‘life.
As we come to communion today, may we gather together
 Confident that, in so doing, He is with us and we are not
 alone. Amen 

Companions in Creation

by the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on Luke 24:36b-48 (with additional reference to Luke 24:13-35). An audio version of this sermon is available here.

It’s all about the companionship.

In our Collect of the Day today, we pray in thanksgiving to God that the Risen Jesus “made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread.” Breaking bread together is the way Jesus made Resurrection, the way Jesus made New Life, available for his disciples. Breaking bread together is what we sum up in the word “companionship”: literally, the word “companion” comes from two Latin words that mean “with bread.” Companionship is what Jesus offers to his disciples when he breaks bread with them. Companionship is the medium in which the Risen Life is made real for the disciples.

The phrase in the Collect about breaking bread comes from a story in Luke’s gospel — a story, in fact, which comes right before the story we just heard this morning — and the two stories really are meant to be two parts of a single narrative. In the first part, it is the afternoon of Easter Day. That morning, some women of the disciples’ company had gone to Jesus’ tomb and found it empty, and they’d told the other disciples what they’d seen — but none of the rest of the disciples believed them. Then, in the afternoon, two disciples leave Jerusalem to go to the town of Emmaus. As they’re walking along, the Risen Jesus comes up and joins them — but they don’t recognize that it’s Jesus. They talk all about the crucifixion, and the story the women told about finding the tomb empty — and the “stranger” tells them they shouldn’t be surprised, all the scriptures foretold this would happen — and the “stranger” asks them why they don’t believe. Even then they don’t recognize him; until they stop at an inn for the evening meal, and the “stranger” takes bread, and blesses it, and breaks it — and it’s then, in the breaking of the bread, that they recognize it’s Jesus — it is then, in that moment of companionship, that they know Resurrection is real. As soon as the disciples recognize Jesus, he vanishes from their sight; but they are so excited, they run all the way back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples that they have indeed seen the Risen Lord.

That’s when today’s part of the story begins: All the disciples are gathered together, and suddenly Jesus stands among them. One moment he’s not there; the next moment he is. Everyone is startled and terrified at first, because they think they’re seeing a ghost. But the Risen Jesus reassures them: he says “Peace be with you,” he shows them his hands and his side, he lets them touch him so that they can see that he has flesh and bones and a body that is real and solid and really with them in that time and space; he takes a piece of broiled fish and eats a physical meal with them. And when that climactic moment comes, then they can believe; when that companionable moment arrives, then their minds are opened to understand everything in scripture about Jesus that they hadn’t understood before; when that companionship is established, then Jesus commissions them to go out into the world and be witnesses, to give testimony, to offer companionship to others as a sign of these things.

It’s all about the companionship. It’s all about the Good News that the Risen Jesus is with us when we break bread together. It’s all about the Good News that Resurrection is made real for us when we share the things that nourish us, the things that help us grow and be strong and experience joy, the things that sustain us in mutual well-being and help us to flourish. It’s all about the promise that the power of New Life is released in us when we are companions to each other, and when we go out into the world and build up companionship in all our relationships and all our connections. It’s all about the communion in Christ that comes in companionship.

And because today is Earth Day — April 22, a day set aside to be mindful of the Earth and our place in it — because today is Earth Day, on this day we are particularly called to consider how we build up companionship in Christ with all our neighbors — not just our human neighbors but all our neighbors — in this big neighborhood, this environment we share. More and more the sciences of zoology and biology and ecology are pointing out that the many creatures with which we share this habitat are not separate from us, not just a sort of morally neutral backdrop for the drama of human life, but that humans and other creatures are neighbors closely connected in the flow of energy and chemistry through our environment, that humans and other creatures are deeply related by DNA and evolutionary history and mutual adaptation that have shaped us all. And if is true that God's mission for us is to bring New Life in companionship in Christ to all our relationships, all our connections — then it is part of our mission that we build up companionship, that we share in what nourishes and sustains and helps to flourish, for all our environment.

Now usually at this point in a sermon or speech about the environment, this is when the speaker starts to say that human beings have messed up the ecology pretty badly, and that we should feel a great collective guilt for the damage we’ve done, and that guilt should motivate us to do better. There is truth to that: we have messed things up. But I also think that the Good News of New Life in Christ gives us something more than guilt to work on — I think that the vision of New Life flourishing in companionship in Christ can give us a positive vision of Christian creation-care that can motivate us to environmental stewardship for the sake of the joy of a truly fruitful ecology.

I read once of an oasis in the Sonoran desert of Arizona, where Papago Indians had been living for centuries. Irrigation ditches the Papago had dug from the oasis watered orchards and fields, so that a wide variety of fruit trees and food plants and grasses and wild trees could grow. And the variety of trees and plants attracted songbirds and desert mammals, so that the whole oasis was a rich and flourishing eco-community. In 1957, however, the Park Service declared that oasis a protected area and removed the humans from the settlement. When naturalists revisited the area in the 1980s, they found that the fruit trees had died, many of the wild trees had died as well, the grasses were gone, there were less than half the species of birds remaining in the area, and the entire oasis had become diminished and less alive. In the case of this desert oasis, the presence of human beings had been a positive factor, the work of human beings had helped the entire eco-community to flourish, the companionship of human beings had sustained the entire network of creaturely neighbors and relations.

And I think the Good News of Resurrection, I think the Good News that Jesus in rising from the grave has destroyed death and made the whole creation new, I think that gives us a positive vision of how we can work for that kind of companionship in the flourishing of all our neighbors in the New Life in Christ. God’s mission for us to build up New Life can lead us to consider how the food we buy is produced by sustainable farming and distribution practices; how the energy we use does not rely on extraction techniques that dump oil into ocean waters or destroy entire mountaintops; how the transportation systems we use encourage greener alternatives; how the legislators and policy-makers we support are willing to look past short-term gains in human econmies to think about how our actions now will affect the quality of our oikos, our household, our ecology for generations to come. I think taking on the mission Jesus gives us to be “witnesses of these things,” witnesses of New Life, calls us to that kind of companionship in creation-care.

So you see it’s all about the companionship. Companionship with each other, companionship with Christ, companionship with Creation, is the medium in which Resurrection is made real for us. On this Third Sunday of Easter, on this Earth Day, may God give us grace to be good companions in Christly New Life for all our neighbors. Amen.

How Do We Know that Resurrection is Real?

by the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on John 20:19-31. An audio version of this sermon is available here.

How do we know that Resurrection is real? How can we be sure that the promise of new life written in scripture and embodied in Jesus is true and trustworthy, that it really exists, that it makes a real difference in our real world and our real lives? How do we know?

That is the question that dominates our Gospel reading today, this very-familiar story of Thomas the Apostle. When Thomas hears from the other disciples that they have seen the Lord, Thomas wants proof. He wants to see the Risen Jesus with his own eyes. He wants to make sure that, in his own mind and on his own terms, he can know that Resurrection is real. And in the Gospel reading, Thomas gets his proof, Thomas does experience the risen Jesus for himself, and is convinced that Resurrection is a reality. But if we look very closely at this story, I think the proof that Thomas receives, the knowledge that Thomas comes to, isn’t quite the knowledge we may think it is at first.

Here's how the story unfolds: It’s the evening of Easter Day. That morning, Mary Magdalene had found the tomb empty; and Peter and John had run to the tomb and found the linen burial cloths folded up and tucked away, as if by someone who didn’t need them anymore; and Mary said that she had seen Jesus and spoken to him, even though she had not recognized him until he’d called her by name, until there was a personal connection between them, but that he had told her not to touch him, not to cling to him, but to go and tell the others he was raised. And that had been all.

And now there they were, at the end of the day, not sure what was going on, hopeful, but confused, expectant, but still afraid enough to lock the door — there they were, stuck in a holding pattern between the fear of death and the hint of life — and suddenly Jesus was there among them, in the middle of their fear and confusion and hope and expectation, Jesus was among them. And he said to them “Peace be with you” — shalom, wholeness, well-being, harmony, life be with you — and the disciples knew it was Jesus and knew he was alive not just because of what he said, but because they could feel in themselves the truth of the Peace he spoke to them. It was because their own hearts and souls and spirits and minds responded with energy and courage and liveliness and joy and love when Jesus spoke Peace to them — it was because of what happened inside of them that they could tell the Jesus they saw in front of them was living and real and true. At the Last Supper, Jesus had said "My peace I give to you, my own peace I leave with you"; and now here he was speaking Peace to them, and they could recognize in their hearts the reality of the Source of that Peace. Jesus breathed on them and said "Receive the Holy Spirit," and they could feel their own spirits rising with new vitality and life. Jesus said “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them,” and they could feel in their own relationships a liberation from guilt and shame and hurt that gave each of them a new lease on life. They saw Jesus alive with them, and they knew the new life in Jesus was real because they could feel it in themselves.

And even Thomas, Thomas who had wanted visible, tangible, verifiable, objective proof, Thomas who wanted to see the wounds and touch the scars and know that it objectively was Jesus before he would believe.... When it came down to it, when Jesus again stood among them when the doors were closed, when Jesus said again “Peace be with you,” when Jesus invited Thomas specifically to see and touch and believe — when it came down to it, it was Thomas’s own inner response, it was Thomas’s own cry of the heart, “My Lord and my God!”, not so much the physical evidence before him as the responsive evidence within him, that let Thomas know that it was true and Resurrection was real. Even for Thomas, he knew Resurrection was real because he could feel it in himself.

And of course the good news for us is that that is how we know the Resurrection is real, too. It's not because we have incontrovertible historical evidence; it's not because we have a plausible biological or medical explanation for how Jesus' body could come back to life even after it was killed; it's not because we have a knock-down, fool-proof argument that can convince even the New Atheists that believers have been right all along. We know the Resurrection is real because we can experience the effects of new life in ourselves, because in our relationships and in our community and in our actions and in our aspirations we feel the power of a life that is greater than our own, a life that lifts us up and makes us more than we would be by ourselves, a life that was revealed in Jesus and that echoes and resonates and lives in us when we turn to Jesus.

We know that Resurrection is real because we experience it in Baptism. When we reaffirm our baptismal covenant, when we welcome someone new into that covenant, as we will welcome Tallis Daniel Reichert today — when we promise to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, and to persevere in resisting evil, and to proclaim Good News by word and example, and to seek and serve Christ in all persons, and to strive for justice and peace among all people — when we promise these things we know they are bigger than we are, we know we can only do them “with God’s help.” And then, when we go forth into the world and do them, we know that God is with us, we know that the life of Christ is alive and living in us, we know that Resurrection is real because we can feel the power of new life empowering us to live as we could not live all on our own. We know that Resurrection is real because we feel it at work in Baptism.

We know that Resurrection is real because we experience it in Eucharist. When we pass the Peace as part of our liturgy, we have the opportunity to take on our own lips, to repeat in our own voices, the very same words the Risen Jesus said — Peace be with you — and when we say those words to each other, and reach out to each other, transcending all the differences of politics and opinion and class and race and gender and how we’ve been hurt and how we’ve hurt others — when we connect in that Peace we feel the Peace that comes to us from beyond ourselves, and we know the Giver of that Peace is alive and real and lives in us. When we set the bread and wine upon the altar, and offer ourselves, our souls and bodies, and pray that the Holy Spirit may descend upon us and upon these gifts, we can feel a communion that comes to us from beyond ourselves, and because we can feel it we know the Giver of that communion is alive and real and lives in us. We know that Resurrection is real because we feel it at work in Eucharist.

Our Gospel this morning sets before us the question: How do we know that Resurrection is real? And our worship this morning gives us the answer: We know that Resurrection is real because we feel it in ourselves, our response to the Risen Christ raising us up to new vitality and courage and hope and joy and love in communion with Christ. That is the Good News for us today — and may knowing that Good News sustain us every day. Amen.

The End, The Beginning

Sermon Easter Day

Mark 16:1-9                                                                                             
The Rev. Shelby Ochs Owen

An audio version of this sermon is available here. 

^“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

This is the ending of Mark’s gospel? What kind of ending is THAT?  Women fleeing the empty tomb saying nothing to anyone?  How bizarre! And where on earth is Jesus, the one the women have come to anoint in death and the one who is risen from the tomb?  Most scholars agree that this is Mark’s true ending of his gospel. If you were to look in most Bibles, though, you will see a couple of other endings, kind of like in one of those novels where you get to choose the ending.  Evidently scribes of the early church were not comfortable with the way this gospel ended, didn’t like the silence, didn’t like the suspense, couldn’t live with the ambiguity and wanted this gospel to jive with the other gospel accounts.  So the monks wrote a couple of additional endings.  Another case of men wanting to fix things!  

Back to the women.  Mark intentionally links the women at the empty tomb to the women at the crucifixion and death of Jesus.    They had been brave and faithful to Jesus; these women had followed him –followed him even to his death and now they have been brought back on stage.  They bring spices to Jesus to anoint his dead body at the tomb.  When they arrive the stone that has covered the tomb opening has been rolled back and they see a young man who tells them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here…go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee.”   We are told hundreds of times in scripture “Do not be afraid.”  And yet, these three women who have been so faithful, so close to Jesus seem to have lost their way; their fear seems to have stymied their mission to go and tell, their silence seems to doom them to failure. 

And how often do we as individuals and as members of a greater body also lose our way, seem doomed to failure?

It was a dark and stormy night.  1995 the year.  Butte, Montana, the place.  Hundreds of snow geese landed in a very strange lake and by morning, 342 snow geese carcasses were left in the lake.  This was no ordinary lake though.  For many years this area had been the sight of a copper mine pit where more than 1/3 of the nation’s copper supply had been mined.  In the 1980’s when the demand for copper declined, the top of the mountain had been blown up, the mining pit was abandoned and had filled with water. Very poisonous water. What remained was a multicolored, -mostly red, highly toxic, 700 acre body of water that was hostile to all living things. (This turned out to be the largest body of contaminated water in the country.) The geese had died because of contact with the metals in the water-the arsenic, copper, and cadmium. 

Talk about human failure!  This was one huge environmental disaster.  Then one day an ecstatic chemist found a stick with a brilliant green slime growing on it in the lake, rejoicing that SOMETHING was growing in the lake.  Finding this single celled algae and later over 40 other small organisms in a place that had been so amazingly dead was cause for hope. (It even turned out that some of the organisms would be used for cancer treatments.)   About a year after the algae was found, scientists discovered a black yeast also growing in the lake, which actually absorbs about 90% of the metals in the water, like a sponge.  When the scientists researched the origins of this yeast, they discovered that it is only found…inside geese.[1]  The dead geese had in a strange way given life to the lake or at least given the opportunity for life again.  Where humans had lost their way as far as how to treat the environment, nature had begun redeeming what had been lost, bringing life to the dead. In what had appeared to be an end, a very dead and contaminated lake showed signs of life anew.  What appeared truly broken is redeemed.  And it came without any human ability or intervention to fix the problem.  The story had seemed destined to end in failure. What had seemed like an ending though was not an ending after all.

Looking again at Mark’s ending -  Yes, the women’s silence and fear seems to doom them to failure.  Right after the man in the tomb tells them not to be afraid, the women, at once, are afraid ---but not just afraid. The Greek words used here are traumas and eckstasis which increase the intensity of the words terror and amazement that are used in our translation.  So they fled from the tomb, for trauma and ecstasy had seized them?  When have any of us experienced trauma and ecstasy at the same time?  These are not emotions or situations that we normally put in the same sentence. 

When the women come to the tomb, they are bereft of hope, broken in spirit, traumatized by the death of their Lord, and it is precisely in that moment of brokenness that moment of fear and despair that God meets them and brings them to a new place, a place of redemption. Just when things seem to be at their worst God does something amazing. The stone is rolled away and their Lord is risen!  They are amazed, they are ecstatic because they know Jesus is up to something even though they cannot explain it or fully wrap their heads around it.

This story seems destined to end in failure.  Maybe we can understand why the scribes wanted to add another ending.  But the really wonderful thing is that by virtue of the fact that we even HAVE this story we know that at some point the women must have pulled themselves together.  Mark would not be telling the story to his audience if the women had simply remained vocally paralyzed.  Perhaps if we look at Mark’s opening line of his gospel we will find a clue to the ending, “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ”.  This line was certainly a beginning to his Gospel account but perhaps Mark meant for the entire gospel story to be a beginning and perhaps he meant for his audience to continue the story of the risen Christ.

We all have problems, every single one of us. We don’t always have the answers. Most of us (not just men, not just scribes) want to fix things. But just as the three women at the tomb must have figured out that their call was simply to follow the risen Christ, wherever that led, we see that often our call is not in the fixing but in the following of Christ.  In Mark’s so-called ending is an invitation for us to begin anew, to be amazed in the midst of our fear, ecstatic in the midst of our trauma, hopeful in our difficulties, even in the face of death, knowing that we worship a God who out of love for us meets us in our brokenness to bring us new life, a God who is victorious over the grave and a God who is in the redemption business!

Amen.

---

[1] www.radiolab.org, season 8, episode 1 “Even the Worst laid plans.”

What is Truth?

Good Friday: What is Truth?                                          

The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to John  

The Rev. Shelby Ochs Owen


An audio version of this sermon is available here.

“What is truth?”

Judas is in the height of his betrayal of Jesus.  He has brought his entourage of Roman soldiers and religious leaders to Jesus so that Jesus can be handed over to them and Judas can collect his payment.   They approach Jesus, and he asks them, “Whom are you looking for?” “Jesus of Nazareth.”  Jesus replies, “I am he.”  With that statement the group who has come to arrest him steps back and falls to the ground!  Today’s therapists tell us to listen to our bodies, that our bodies have much to teach and tell us.  This group hounding Jesus evidently chooses to ignore their bodies’ message, chooses to ignore the fact that just being in his presence makes them fall over!,  This group chooses to ignore the truth, chooses to dwell in denial of the presence of God in their midst.

A little while later when Jesus and Pilate, the Roman governor, have their conversation, Jesus tells him, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice,” to which Pilate responds, “What is truth?” We cannot know for certain what tone of voice Pilate was using. Was he being sarcastic, flippant or seriously interested in Truth?  What John does indicate is that Pilate does not wait around for an answer from Jesus. Later when Pilate hears that Jesus claims to be God’s Son, he is “more afraid that ever.”  Again his body is telling him something that he ends up ignoring.

What is truth?  That God loves us so much that He gave us all that he had to give us - his own Son, who poured out his life for us “on the hard wood of the cross that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.”(BCP, p.101)  Jesus withheld nothing as he gave his life for us, that we might live fully. The truth is that we have been created by God, that by Jesus’s gift of life we are forgiven our sin, sins known and unknown, things done and left undone.  The truth is that God wants us free from our bondage, free from sin, transformed into the people that speak and live the truth of God, the truth of love.  Sometimes it is difficult to open our eyes to the truth much less to live in the truth.  Judas chose money over the truth, the religious leaders who were threatened by Jesus’s authority chose power over truth, the Roman government chose control and civil peace (Pax Romana) over truth.  All were in denial of the truth of Jesus even when the truth was right in their faces and they felt it in their bodies.  Sometimes it is easier to live in denial, to try to escape the existential questions of life, to dwell in the superficial realm. But today, Good Friday, is the day we peel back the curtain of denial and focus on the reality of the cross, the reality of God’s overflowing love as seen in Jesus giving his life for us.

“Everyone who belongs to the truth, listens to my voice.”

Will we choose to belong to the truth? Will we listen to God’s voice?

Will we choose to accept God’s love poured out for us and give that same love to others?

Even Here, God Is With Us

By the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on Mark 14:1-15:47. An audio version of this sermon is available here.

One of the things that always gets to me about Palm Sunday, the Sunday of the Passion, is the incredible mix of emotions that we feel in this service. As we join together in the Palm Parade, and the Reading of the Passion, and the celebration of the Eucharist, our prayers and our devotions and our thoughts and our feelings get tugged in all sorts of different directions, our emotions get all mixed up together, we aspire to some parts of this experience and we recoil from others, we have the greatest joy and the deepest sorrow side by side, cheek by jowl — and somehow we have to deal with the whole range of it.

I mean, just think of all the emotions we cram into this one liturgy:

At one moment we are waving our palms and shouting “Hosanna!” and singing “All glory, laud, and honor to thee, Redeemer, King” and generally carrying on like it’s all a big celebration. At another moment we are receiving the bread and wine and feeling our communion with Christ in his Body and Blood. At still another moment we are taking the part of the Crowd in the Passion reading and shouting out — even though we’re horrified at the sound of our own voices shouting it — we shout, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Celebration and communion and horror: it’s all there, it’s all mixed together.

At one moment we remember how Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey, how Jesus consciously and deliberately identified himself as Messiah, coming to the holy city in the way the prophet promised the holy messiah would come. At another moment we remember how Jesus showed such tender love and companionship for his disciples by giving them a sign to remember him by — and not just to remember him, but to feel his presence with them — when he gave them bread and said, “This is my body, my substance, my life — break this bread and share it in remembrance of me.” At yet another moment we remember how Jesus cried out in terrible despair, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me, why have you forgotten me, why have you abandoned me?” You know, in Mark’s version of the Passion, which we read today, Mark includes Jesus’ cry of dereliction in Aramaic, which was the everyday language of the people. Matthew includes the cry in Hebrew, which was the language of the scriptures, so Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is quoting from Psalm 22. But Mark quotes the cry in Aramaic, hinting that for Jesus this wasn’t just a Psalm, it was the way he was really feeling, it was the cry of his deepest heart. In this moment we remember how Jesus, even Jesus, felt personally lost and abandoned and forsaken by God. And yet, even in that desolate moment, Jesus still called out to God, "My God, my God." Messiahship and companionship and abandonment: it’s all there, it’s all mixed together.

At one moment we feel joy, and at the next moment sorrow. At one moment we feel triumph, and at the next moment tragedy. At one moment we feel full to bursting with the love of God, and at the next moment we feel empty and abandoned and lost. It’s all here, and it’s all mixed up together.

And that makes this Palm Sunday liturgy a lot like real life. Because our experiences, our moments, our lives come with all sorts of feelings, all sorts of emotions, all sorts of thoughts and interpretations and decisions all mixed up together, all tugging us this way and that way, back and forth, up and down. We know all about having to deal with this huge range of emotions. Our Palm Sunday liturgy isn’t just a historical remembrance or a dramatic re-enactment of something long past; it’s our own lives, our own world, how we live, connected, here and now, with the story of Jesus’ life.

One moment we are working on a relationship, building a friendship, thinking we're establishing a real connection and a real rapport — and the next moment an unkind word or a careless act can make us wonder if there's really any friendship there.

One moment we feel like we're finally getting some recovery from the lingering recession — and the next moment a bad earnings report, or an unexpected personal bill, throws us back into a sudden sense of insecurity.

One moment we feel firm in our faith, enjoying the warm community and close friendships we have here in our church — and the next moment we are reminded that the church is changing, the church is always changing, and we feel our faith is challenged to go outside ourselves and take risks to invite and welcome new people, perhaps people very different from us, to come to know Christ’s love in this place.

One moment life itself feels like a splendid gift from God — and the next ... I remember one time when the weather was beautiful, and the day was free, and I went out for a bike ride in the morning and rejoiced in the sheer wonderfulness of God’s creation and the privilege of being — and when I got back there was a phone message waiting for me, that someone had been taken to the emergency room, and I felt the sudden chill of wondering where was God in all of this.

We know only too well what it is to be tugged around by all these different feelings. This Passion Sunday liturgy, with all its ups and downs, is a mirror of our own real lives.

And that’s why the good news of Palm Sunday speaks to us exactly where we are. Because the good news is that God is here in the midst of all of it, God is at work in the whole range of feelings, the whole mix of emotions, God is working to bring good out of it all, to bring a happy issue our of all our afflictions — even when it seems to us that God is a million miles away, even when it seems to us that we must cry out, “God, why have you forsaken us?”, even when it seems to us that the powers of death and destruction and despair have won, even then, God is still here, and the love of God will never, ever, ever let us go. The good news is that this whole range of crazy, mixed-up emotions is precisely the place where God is with us, precisely the place where God will form us into people of new life.

That is why we celebrate today. That is why we sing. That is why we wave our palms and shout Hosannas. That is why we read the Passion. That is why we shout “Crucify!” That is why we break bread and pour wine. That is why we say “Amen.” Because God is with us here, in the midst of it, in the whole range of thoughts and feelings and emotions and decisions that we reflect in this Palm Sunday liturgy. And it is because God is here with us in it all that we can pray: “Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of Christ’s suffering today, and also share in his resurrection in the days to come.”

May you have a blessed and transformative Holy Week. Amen.