Saturday, April 19, 2014

Holy, Forgiven




Psalm 32; John 20:1-10
Easter 2014

            With great humility, love and joy I have wonderfully good news to share with you all this morning.   It’s the good news of why we are faithfully gathered this hour.  It’s the good news that forever forms and reforms us as Christians.   It is quite simply, yet also profoundly, this – in Jesus Christ you are wholly forgiven!
               You are totally and completely forgiven of the sin you spiritually inherited as part of the human race.   You are forgiven for worshipping false gods, for living in self-righteousness, for failing to daily demonstrate what you faithfully profess.    You are forgiven of that which you feel convinced you can never forgive about yourself or about another person.   Every aspect of sin’s rebellious influence on your heart and mind and unique soul has been ultimately covered and conquered by the amazing grace and endless love of God in Jesus Christ.   You are wholly forgiven, and thus, you are called upon to live a holier life after the example of our Lord.
            This blessed gift of forgiveness did not at all come about according to our understanding of “fair play.”   We can thank Shakespeare for first putting the words “fair” and “play” together in print.   It was used to convey a courteous rapport between opponents in a confrontation.   It went on to influence the rules of conduct expected of Medieval Knights.  They were, for example, never to attack an unarmed enemy or the weak and innocent.   
            It suffices to say that what the powers of the Roman Empire and the Jewish Temple did together to Jesus of Nazareth was not fair play.   He had not led an armed rebellion.   He had fulfilled, not forsaken, the ancient laws of Israel.   Yet he was arrested and did not get any kind of fair trial.   And adding insult to injury, what his closest disciples did at the end of Jesus’ life was also not fair play.   They denied ever knowing him and thus sold out his message of God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.   The absence of fair play led to Jesus being arrested, flogged, mocked and crucified. 
            Had you been there when they crucified our Lord, wouldn’t you have expected Him to have decried this grave injustice from the Cross?  To openly lament, dare I even say “preach” about how unfairly he’d been treated?  Don’t we all do this when we are even slightly wronged?   
            Yet there is no written record of such words.   Instead, heard from the Cross were words that convey the very heart of our Savior’s work, the very words that should be forming and reforming all aspects of our lives.  These are the words found in Luke 23:34 – “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.”    
            Didn’t know what they were doing?  Really?   It sure seems the Roman soldiers and the self-satisfied religious leaders knew what they were doing.  It sure seems their plan had gone quite perfectly.   But Jesus wasn’t referring to what they knew of their plan and how very well they had executed it.   He was referring to the fact that none of them, nor any of the disciples up to that point, had truly known God’s plan.   They had not fully understood their sin or Jesus’ identity.   Nor had they recognized that their actions were helping inaugurate the Messiah’s reign.   They’d been too lost in sin, too obsessed with their self-righteous, self-aggrandizing notion of fairness.   The only fairness they could see was to do away with the man so offensively challenging their steadfast traditions, their entrenched authority, their violently successful power plays.    
            Jesus alone knew the devastating depths of holy judgment against all the accumulated sin of humankind.   Instead of executing it according to His authority as the Son of God, he chose instead to empty himself of holy power and allow himself to be executed for it.   He sacrificed Himself for your salvation and of all humankind.   So it was that with his final breaths, and with supremely selfless love, Jesus spoke aloud of forgiving our sin.
            It’s really important to realize that this meant more than giving humankind an eternal mulligan for all that had ever been done against God.   As prominent Bible scholar N.T. Wright has pointed out, to be forgiven of sin is the same as being released from death.[i]  Jesus’ prayerful proclamation from the Cross announced that he was in the process of personally securing our release from all that causes spiritual and physical death.  And so when Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter and another disciple Jesus loved found Jesus’ tomb empty, they realized he’d risen from the death-grip of sin and the Good News became wonderfully clear – all God’s children had been wholly forgiven.   
            As Jesus’ followers, fair play goes beyond our abiding by long standing cultural rules about how to treat one another equally well.    The measuring stick for what is fair and what is unfair in all our human relationships and for God’s relationship with us is the Cross of Jesus.    As Easter people, as people who believe in the forgiveness of sin, in life beyond death and in Christ’s kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven, how are we to apply this eternal measure to our everyday lives?   Through our Lord’s ongoing saving grace and through our steadfast faith, we will do so by striving to live holier lives that above all exhibit our belief in the forgiveness of sin.   Again, this means more than absolving guilt, it means helping ourselves and others experience spiritual release from the constantly present, life-oppressing, fear-inducing and destructive power of death.    In the love of Jesus Christ, when we say “I forgive you” it’s really the same as saying “I release you to be more alive.”  
            I dearly wish this Easter Good News meant that none of us on this earthly plain would ever again have to suffer sin and its consequential spider-web ways that cause us to die a little every day.   I wish our holy release was complete, that we all were not stuck waiting for a final culmination when our Lord comes again in glory.    We are in the great company of every Christian in the world over the past couple thousand years on this count.   
            What I believe can help us all is to feel a kinship with the earliest followers of Christ.  Theirs was a very pregnant expectation of the Risen Lord’s return.  But time passed on and on.   Rather than growing in disappointment and resentment, instead of daily decrying that the delay just wasn’t fair, they instead kept striving to live holier lives.   They kept increasing their faithful trust in the Holy Spirit driven, living and liberating presence of the Risen Lord.   They perhaps realized, as I encourage us all to do today as well, that’s God’s eternity can’t be measure by our sense of time and that Jesus Christ is indeed the same yesterday, today and forever (Hebrews 13:8).  Indeed, as the Psalm 90 declares, a thousand years in God’s sight are like a day just gone by.   
            And those first church members understood that being forgiven, released from sin and it’s ultimate consequence of death, was about more than just getting “individual sinners right with God.”  They understood Easter as a “whole way of life, the new covenant way of life in which the restoration which God offered to all who believed in Jesus was to characterize families and communities, worldviews and life-paths.”   When coming upon “anything amiss in human relations or society” they expected one another to “move heaven and earth to put it right, to restore things to the way they should be.”[ii]    One of my favorite N.T. Wright quotes says it this way – “Jesus’ resurrection is the beginning of God’s new project not to snatch people away from earth to heaven but to colonize earth with the life of heaven.”[iii]
            Practicing forgiveness as we’ve been forgiven is never easy.    We are generally more adept at holding fast to our hurt and grief, at fearing and avoiding the topic of death then accepting and feeling degrees of release from it all with faith and love.   I promise that you’ll have a front row seat to the myriad of complex human emotions and ways they can deeply complicate our relationships, especially with family, if you attend our upcoming production of the play Lost In Yonkers.  
            Yet what Marjorie Thompson in her Lenten study on the topic of forgiveness says is also most definitely true.  She declares that if we care to listen, there are countless stories of forgiveness all around us and that “we are resilient creatures, capable of throwing off shackles of bitterness and discovering more about ourselves and others over time.”   She further affirms that we can all “begin to see that rage, grief and lust for retaliation can easily trap us in a self-imposed prison of hate that corrodes our soul’s energy and peace” and that “choosing forgiveness is one of the most freeing and healing choices we can make in life.”[iv]
            Hear again the Good News that makes every single day Easter day.  He is Risen!  You are released!  In Jesus Christ we are all wholly forgiven.   May we joyfully depart from this gathering with spring in our steps, eternal hope in our hearts, a desire to be in constant worship, and eager to express our gratitude for this most holy gift of forgiveness through daily life-affirming, Lord praising words and actions.  Amen!
           

    






[i] N.T. Wright Evil and the Justice of God, p. 90
[ii] http://ntwrightpage.com/sermons/Easter07
[iii] N.T. Wright Surprised by Hope
[iv] Marjorie Thomson Forgiveness: A Lenten Study, chapter 5

Sunday, April 13, 2014

What Does the Lord Need from You?

Palm Sunday 2014
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Matthew 21:1-11

            We are gathered here this morning to cheer!  We are here to express hope and sincere encouragement for a great victory.  We have lifted up this cheer from our hearts and embodied it in voice and procession and waving.    
            More on the obvious reason we are cheering here this morning in a minute.  Let me first ask this – generally, what do you find yourself cheering for?     Many of us cheer for those who entertain us through sports and the arts.  Did any of you do some of this cheering recently at a sporting event or theatrical performance?  More personally, we also cheer on the people we love and support through various experiences.    Will anybody be cheering on a graduate in the coming months?   Or is anyone trying to cheer on a loved one going through a personal crisis?    Overall, our cheers are fired up by faith in positive, beneficial outcomes.  
            And so here we are, remembering and re-enacting one long ago day in an ancient land when there was a parade of cheers and hopes full of faithful conviction.   Did you know the historical moment of which I speak was one of two parades happening at that time?[i]    One was happening at the west gate of Jerusalem, the other at the east gate of Jerusalem.   We are most definitely not celebrating the west gate parade today.  But we do have to acknowledge it to appreciate the significance of this parade we are in today.
            The west gate parade had been a very imposing thing for everyday citizens to witness.   This was the parade of the Roman army marching into Jerusalem.  They did so because it was the time of Jewish pilgrimage to the Great Temple to celebrate Passover, the great festival commemorating their divine liberation from slavery in Egypt.   During Passover, the holy city population would suddenly swell by over 150,000 people.   The Roman army was thus called in to maintain order.  This meant displaying its mighty authority to strike down any and all public disturbances by locals or pilgrims.    So they proudly paraded before the public astride their handsome warhorses, wearing polished leather, brandishing shiny lances and lifting high the fear-inducing symbols of the Roman standard and eagle.    The army paraded their authority over any and all possible resistance to the Empire with “the clank of armor, the stomp of feet, and beating of drums.”[ii]    Were we standing there on the west side, we would have fully understood.   We would have had no vision but of Caesar, felt the mass of imperial power reverberating through our bodies and penetrating our psyches.
         That’s what was happening at the west gate while a reasonably small disturbance was approaching the east gate.  I say “reasonably small” in comparison to the masses arriving for the Passover pilgrimage.   With faithful imagination, we are united with this crowd today.  We are part of their parade.  
            Over here, on the east side, where the sun of course always rises, we have paraded down from the Mount of Olives.   We have left behind the magnificent view over the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea.    We have remembered that long before us King David once fled in the opposite direction, going up this over 300 foot slope to escape certain death at the hands of  his rebellious son Absalom.   On that route, he had wept and hidden his royal identity under cloak (2 Samuel 15).   We, on the other hand, are joyfully, loudly, very openly displaying symbols of Jewish royalty as we head into Jerusalem.   But whether ascending or descending, the purpose was the same: to be closer to and to praise the power of our God.
            Over here, on the east side, in our simple and celebratory parade, we are rolling out the red carpet as we go.    Well, the ancient equivalent of it.   The carpet is made from common folk cloaks we’ve laid out along with some additional color; not red, but the yellow-green of the palm branches we’ve cut down and brought with us to the parade.   These are long standing symbols, we know, of goodness and victory such as were carved into the doors of Solomon’s great temple (1 Kings 6:1-9).   Over there, at the west gate, folks were more focused on keeping palms down -- the palm of their hands, with fingers held tightly together at the end of a straightly held out arm as they shouted “Hail Caesar.”  
            God knows, we aren’t parading to hail Caesar.   We are heralding Jesus of Nazareth and him alone.   We know this man is more than the latest prophet to come down the pike.   We call to him with cheers of “Son of David” and “Hosanna!”   We do so believing He is our truest hope, our ultimate liberator from all worldly oppression, the true king of our lives and our nation.  We do so declaring Him our long-awaited Messiah.   Our shouts of “Hosanna” are shouts of “Save us!”     
            But there is a little confusion among us.    What’s the deal with the donkeys?  Why isn’t our true King, the one we anticipate will overthrow the occupying Roman Empire, arriving on the back of a strong white stallion?   Doesn’t our Savior know what’s going on over at the west gate?    What kind of powerful message, what kind of heralding of this most holy moment and divinely revolutionary movement, does it send to be moseying into Jerusalem on some lowly, laboring beast of burden?
            We pause our cheering long enough to ask one of His twelve disciples about this.  We are told, with eyebrows raised in a way that communicates acceptance without full understanding, that Jesus simply “had need of it.”     We are told how as the twelve got closer to the holy city, they were sent ahead to a village to find a foal and its mother.   Once found, they were instructed to take them and bring them to Jesus.   And if anyone at all -- especially, say, their owners -- had a question about it, they were to say, “The Lord needs them.”  Upon those words, they were told, the person inquiring would immediately agree to the request.
            Of all the Palm Sunday drama and pageantry, I feel deeply drawn to reflect on this part the most.   This is because I immediately identify with the person questioning what sure seems to be some blatant donkey theft.   I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure my initial response would have been something like, “That’s all well and fine that Nestor and Eeyore are needed, but their mine.   I need both of them more.”    Just imagine some folks coming to you out of the blue and saying, “Jesus needs your minivan.”    How would you respond?  Would you be immediately willing to make that sacrifice?   Back then, to let go of two generations of donkey was to let go a pair greatly needed for plowing, carrying heavy grain packs and provisions, and for personal travels.    Even if there was some faith in Jesus of Nazareth,  questioning his need for our property and for us to make a personal sacrifice sure seems like it would have been in order. 
            But Jesus knew what he needed and why.   He knew that donkeys were reliable for their strength and for their loyalty to their master.   He also knew they were held in low regard when compared to the pomp and circumstance pride of a warhorse.    He knew that when it came to his followers, he needed to them to be strong, loyal, humble, and hardworking in character.   Fetching animals of this ilk, therefore, perhaps was a bit of a test for his first disciples.  And it reinforced that immediate, sacrificial, faithful trust in Jesus’ divine purposes and plans is a requirement for discipleship.   Even if what’s happening is unclear and confusing, out of sync with common expectations.   Even if it gives us great pause in cheering Him on to victory.          Jesus also knew he was fulfilling the ancient prophecy of Zechariah 9:90, which foretold that Israel’s future king would come not astride an impressive beast of war, but upon a meager creature of peace, “humble and riding on a donkey.”   
            Does Jesus need your “donkey” today?   Something for you to give up this final stretch of Lent?   Something that helps Him parade into the awesome and awful and utterly necessary week ahead?    To humbly go through the east gates of this world according to the providence of God Almighty as the most powerful forces of this sinful, fallen world steadily march on?    
            Yes, we are here now, at the east gate, where the sun always rises.  We are cheering.    Once inside the city, however, there will be jeering … mockery … betrayal … blood.  Whether or not we are willing to admit it, there will be dismissive taunts and cries for crucifixion and deep fear fueled denials falling out of our mouths soon enough.   As this holy week unfolds, we’ll realize just how much we want Jesus to be an old world emperor instead of a new world, game-changing King of all love, peace, forgiveness and justice.    But for today, our hope is in place.  We joyfully cover the ground with our common cloaks and royal branches.    We see our true king “humble and riding on a donkey.”    Today, we shout, “Save us!”
            Amen.




[i] http://www.progressiveinvolvement.com/progressive_involvement/2014/04/lectionary-blogging-palm-sunday-matthew-21-1-11.html
[ii] ibid.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Waves of Faith




Psalm 26; Hebrews 11:1-2, 12:1-3
5th Sunday in Lent

            I’m going to give a respectful nod to the late Andy Rooney of 60 Minutes fame by asking this – have you ever noticed that we usually talk about faith like it’s an object?   We speak of it more as a noun, as a thing we have.   Kind of like saying we have a Swiss Army pocket knife in our pocket – a useful tool at our disposal for all kinds of situations.    Or it’s kind of like saying we have a car.   But what’s the main reason we have a car?   For action, right?   To be in motion.   To move us from one place to another.   So we talk less about having a car and more about our driving.   It’s more helpful talking about the verb.   
            All this is to say how strongly I appreciate the following words from Presbyterian pastor and author Fred Buechner – “Faith is better understood as a verb than as a noun, as a process than as a possession. It is on-again-off-again rather than once-and-for-all. Faith is not being sure where you're going, but going anyway.”[i]
            Being faithful, then, is an active state of being.   When any of us say “I have faith” or “I’m a faithful person” we aren’t labeling ourselves as if we’re statues in a church museum.   We are expressing that we are people of constant action, people on the move with God, guided by the assurance of things hoped for and conviction of things not seen.      
            A single panel comic strip was passed around at last week’s Men’s Bible breakfast.   It was created by the wry witted Wiley Miller in his comic titled “Non Sequiter.”   In case you aren’t quite sure or need a reminder, a non sequiter is a concluding statement that doesn’t make logical sense.   (W.C. Fields, the funnyman heavy drinker, had a rather perfect non sequiter when he said, “If I had my life to live over … I’d live over a saloon.”)  The comic by Wiley Miller does indeed seem to be a non sequiter about a famous happening from the Bible.
            At the center of the comic stands Moses.  Take a moment to picture him as he’s commonly been depicted.  You see an old man with a full beard (he was probably about 80 years old).  He’s wearing a robe tied with rope around his waist.  Where’s he standing?  Right at the edge of the Red Sea, of course.   And what’s in his right hand?  A stirringly symbolic shepherding staff.   His arms are outstretched.  On both sides of him, towering high, are the giant waves caused by God parting the just over 200 mile-wide body of water.[ii]    This is, of course, the most famous moment of the Exodus, of God's chosen people being miraculously liberated from their Egyptian enslavers.    But in this comic, we have to pay attention to the word bubble above and to the side of Moses head.   He’s speaking to a young man passing by him in the parted waters.    We’d logically expect him to say something like “Go! Flee to be free!”   He instead says, “I don’t think you completely grasp the seriousness of the situation here, Caleb …”    What makes this a  non sequiter to smile at is because Caleb, you see, is in his swim trunks and carrying a big surfboard!  Down with the Pharoah, but surfs up dude!
            We chuckle because we know Caleb wasn’t supposed to dillydally there in the middle of the divine deliverance.   That's not the best faithful response.  He was to keep going faithfully forward toward the promised land and not pause to play on the great waves and therefore risk being drowned or captured.    But I think it would have been even more truly a non sequiter if this Caleb had pitched a tent there in the middle of the water walls.  Then we could have identified with the folly of sitting out or sleeping through God’s powerful, rescuing love at work opening up a way out of every enslaving power of sin.
            We are surrounded, preaches the ancient writer of the Book of Hebrews, by a great cloud of witnesses.    These are the forebearers who followed God with faithful integrity, who constantly moving ahead with a foundational, formative trust in God’s plan of salvation.   We are especially reminded of the lives and leadership of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Rahab, Samson, David and Samuel. 
             These heroes were mentioned because the early Christian community who heard this sermon had been in the midst of considerable suffering by the society surrounding them. They had “undergone great hardship, including public ridicule, confiscation of property, and imprisonment (10:32-34).”[iii]    Many had all but drowned under such pressures.   They had stopped attending worship, or worse, abandoned their faith completely (6:4-6).     And so this community was strongly exhorted to endure, to hold fast to the assurance of things hoped for and keep conviction about things unseen.    
            Hebrews, therefore, is very much a sermon about healing and recovering broken faith.  It reminds us that this is not something we can ever muster up for ourselves.   It’s not an object that we can update or replace.   It’s not a rusty Swiss Army pocket knife or car.   Faith is always an active spiritual gift.   The capacity within us to be faithful -- to keep moving ahead believing in the Gospel witness to God’s plan of rescuing us from sin – at all times “comes to us at God’s own initiative.”[iv]  It is given and facilitated by our Lord Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit opening up our hearts and minds to holy truth in every situation we experience.  The faithfulness of God, then, is what empowers us to live with hope-filled responses to God’s promises.    It was Almighty action that nudged, pushed, inspired and emboldened every faithful person in the great cloud of witnesses we read of in the Scriptures and know of in our personal relationships … in the faithful friends sitting behind, before and right next to you this very moment.
            As faithfulness is freely and graciously gifted to us by God, we are able to make “visible” what would otherwise remain “invisible.”[v]    We witness in word and action God’s new creation in Christ breaking into our everyday lives.    One way humans have always done this, is through song.    And what a strong witness we sang together at the start of this worship service today.   Did you know the poetic words of “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” were penned by a New Jersey insurance salesman?   Thomas Chisolm, who was launched into this life in a Kentucky log cabin in 1866, wrote them when he was fifty-seven years old.  At that age, he’d been a faithful Christian for thirty years.    He’d briefly served as a pastor, but poor health led to early retirement and, eventually, to the somewhat related work of insurance sales.   He kept writing over one thousand poems, however.   And after this particular poem was set to music, it became famous through George Beverly Shea’s singing of it at Billy Graham crusades.    
            This great hymn is one way the Holy Spirit continues to activate our faith by reminding us of how God’s faithfulness is constantly being revealed through Scripture, all of Creation and through our lives.   It indeed helps us to have strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.  Turn to it if your faithful heart is heavy laden by suffering of one sort or another today.   If you find yourself feeling stuck, unable to actively follow the example and eternal hope we have in Jesus.  If you are waiting for waves of woe and hope-drowning doubts to crash down around you instead of moving forward with steadfast belief in the greatness of God's unwavering faithfulness to you.   
            We are all now passing through to the end of this Lenten season, with our cries of hope and palm waving cheers for victory as well as our wails of doubt and fearful denials.   May we fervently pray to be filled with greater faithfulness to the incomparable greatness of Jesus, who as “the exact imprint of God’s very being” (1:3) is the “pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” (12:2).  Amen.


[i] http://frederickbuechner.com/content/faith
[ii] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Sea
[iii] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1748
[iv] ibid.
[v] ibid.