New Hope UMC of the Northern Berkshires

This Sunday we will read the familiar story of the young shepherd boy David, who dared what no one else would do: he stood in the space between the people of Israel and the Philistines, a mere boy between two might armies, and faced the giant that all the soldiers of Saul feared to face.

Armed with nothing more than a sling, and a single stone.

We call this story “David vs. Goliath,” but this weekend we invite you to consider that the story is actually “Goliath vs. God,” and that David, the shepherd boy who cast that famous, mighty stone, was acting as God’s stone in the fight for righteousness.

The Apostle Paul worked diligently to bring the Gospel to the Gentile world. He promised that, in Christ, all people would have access to grace, find meaning in life, and live in a loving relationship with our creator, through our savior.

But that must have been daunting; the idea that we are, in Jesus’ own words, to be perfect, as God in heaven is perfect.

How could any of us live up to that???

Sisters and brothers, here’s the good news: we aren’t alone in seeking our perfection. In Christ, God makes us into new creations.

This Sunday we enter what is known in the church as "ordinary time." Ordinary time occurs twice in each year, and it represents the time of year that exists outside of the major seasons of the Christian year: Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter.

The season of ordinary time between Christmas and Lent is usually pretty short, but this season, the one that starts Sunday and goes through Advent, is long.

But maybe that's a good metaphor for the Christian life. We exist for so long in ordinary time, and in ordinary TIMES in the world, that we forget that we're meant to be extra-ordinary.

Maybe that's not it, either. Maybe it's better to say that we're meant, as Christians, to help make the extra-ordinary, ordinary.

Wednesday I was at an all-day meeting, with the Congregational Development office. In Merrimack, New Hampshire. On the way home, well, let's just say the weather was impressive. As the Psalmists say, the heavens reveal the glory of God.

There were a couple times on that drive that I actually got a little nervous.

And I remembered that it isn't God's intent for God's glory to make us feel afraid. Rather, God's glory is supposed to remind us that we are loved.

This weekend marks the Pentecost, a day we celebrate that the Holy Spirit gave her gifts to the believers. But it’s also a day that we celebrate as the birthday of the church: the day the church was emboldened to step outside of the locked doors they’d hid behind since the resurrection and step into the community.

This week, maybe we’re experiencing a “Pentecost” of our own. This Thursday we begin to emerge from the “locked doors” of COVID-19. No, the pandemic isn’t over. No, we’re not out of the woods completely.

But yes, we are starting to experience a Pentecost freedom… but with that freedom comes a Pentecost responsibility.

Sometimes it feels like living in the life of faith can be an exercise in futility. No matter how hard we try, or how long we try, it seems like some things never change. So we gotta ask the question:

Is it worth it?

Let's hear what Jesus has to say.

Let's face it. We try to be generous, we try to give, and to share, and to be with and for each other, building community and sharing the Kingdom wherever and whenever we can.

But sometimes, we can't.

Sometimes human nature intervenes, and overrides our better angels.

What do we do when we want to share in each other's blessings, but we find that it's too hard? We follow Peter's example.

Over a year ago, now, we closed our doors on "regular" worship, on "normal" life. We could not have imagined an experience like this, not with all of our modern science and medicine. But here we are.

Still, we're starting to see signs of life admin the fatigue of isolation and separation. They say the last mile is always the hardest. But even that last mile is easier when you know you aren't running it alone.

Jesus has a message for us: we really are going to be OK.

The resurrection demonstrated once and for all the power of grace over the grave. Christ Jesus rose from the dead, showing all of creation that God's redemptive work was complete, for then, and for all time.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

There is a temptation to look at the life and the ministry of Christ as pre- and post-resurrection realities. To say that Jesus accepted humanity to be born, grow, live, and die, and that it was something other than humanity that emerged from the tomb.

The Gospel reading for this Third Sunday of Easter reminds us that, in Jesus, humanity and divinity were, and remain, intertwined: a demonstration of God's love for, and empathy with, all of us. For then. And for all time.

We are an Easter people, and we continue to celebrate the resurrection of our savior, the joy and the exultation we feel at the blessed assurance that comes from Christ Jesus. We share the joy with each other, knowing, as sisters and brothers in Christ, we are assured.

But what happens when we forget that we're not supposed to share this with each other… well, not only with each other… but with the world?

Let's let Jesus out of the box!