Your Faith Journey - Finding God Through Words, Song and Praise

During the last few months at home we’ve exhausted our collection of recipes, of both favorite home-cooked meals and quick and easy dinners.  We have certainly missed the luxury of eating out, not only for the uniqueness of the food but also for the break from the work in the kitchen.  When we finally decided to get carry-out from one of our favorite local restaurants, we excitedly looked over the menu with so many of our favorite items and chose carefully from the long list.  Whereas before we would just pick whatever struck us in the mood of the minute, we now went over and over the choices, no longer taking the choice for granted.  With carryout boxes open on our kitchen table we enjoyed the indulgence of these much missed treats, savoring every bite.  We relished in the savory foods until, a couple of hours later, they sat sour on our stomachs.  Cooking at home for weeks and weeks, our bodies weren’t accustomed to digesting these rich foods and they labored to process them as we felt tired, a little sick and disappointed.  The good news of the gospel today sits on my stomach like too-rich food that I’m not accustomed to digesting and I struggle to process it.  I’m tempted, because of my discomfort, if -- like the carryout food -- I can just avoid it. 

Today Jesus continues his instructions to the twelve disciples that we began last week as he prepares them to go out into the world, bringing healing and wholeness.  They have been instructed to take nothing but themselves and are to rely on the power of the Holy Spirit.  Today Jesus speaks directly to the growing unease in the pits of the disciples stomachs, as he acknowledges the reality of the risk, danger and discomfort of discipleship.  The Pharisees have accused Jesus of healing in the name of Beelzebul, the prince of demons, and yet the disciples are to proclaim Jesus’ message from the housetops!  Jesus’ message will put the disciples' very lives at risk and he simply offers God’s favor and overflowing love as comfort for the journey.  Finally Jesus predicts unrest through broken relationships within communities, families and households.  We are left with the unsettling words “Whoever finds his life will lose it and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Mt 10:39)  Today’s gospel message strips away illusions of comfort and sits sour in my stomach while I continue to digest it.  It is speaking to us, as Christians, about the reality of living as Christian disciples, a reality that we might prefer to avoid. 

          Both the reading from Romans and the Gospel turn us toward knowing our self, our true identity, knowing who we really are.  Paul writes to the Romans about the gift of baptism and the assurance that “We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin.” (Rom 6:6)  Our baptism is symbolic of our alignment with Christ, our participation in God’s work, our choice to continually turn toward God.  Our baptism reminds us that God chooses us, God shares God’s power with us, to participate in bringing justice, peace and wholeness into the world.  Our baptism gives us the persistence we need, not to avoid our discomfort, but to do the work to process Jesus’ message.  So what is this old self that Paul mentions?  I think our old self is the part of our self that resists Christ’s presence, turning us away from God and God’s call to us.  For me, my old self is the part of me that persists in doubting that I can stand before you today and share my thoughts on this gospel.  My old self tells me that I’m too small and can’t possibly make a difference on big issues like racial justice, equality and LGBTQ inclusion.  My old self tells me that keeping the illusion of peace, avoiding the discomfort of change, and sacrificing my true self to not upset others, are top priorities.  Remembering my baptism reminds me that this old self, along with all of its toxic messages, “was crucified”, Christ has destroyed my old self and set my true self free to live and love abundantly in Christ.  My baptism is my inauguration into discipleship.

Today in Matthew’s gospel Jesus continues to encourage us to let go of the toxic messages of our old self and live as Christian disciples.  He says don’t be afraid, I’m with you, let’s do this together!  Honestly, when Jesus tells us to have no fear I always cringe a bit because I know it’s going to be a rough ride.  I know he usually tells me to not be afraid when he asks me to do something scary.  Today’s lesson is like a white water rafting tour just after the spring thaw with swollen rapids and icy cold water that pierces through our fog of complacency.  But, we can do this, let’s hold on tight, join together in solidarity, and let the icy water awaken us to Christ’s call.

First Jesus warns us that in doing the work of discipleship we are likely to be accused of aligning with demons, Beelzebul.  We should expect people in power to go to great lengths to maintain systems that deny the power of our baptism and perpetuate toxic messages that keep us complacent.  This complacency lives into the continuing oppression for the poor, marginalized and sick in society, the very people Jesus calls into wholeness.  The United States is not above oppressive systems of power as we have seen recently in the news of COVID-19 spread, racial injustice and LGBTQ rights.  We are called to wake up and act as a disciple of Christ against oppressive systems, a potentially dangerous task and surely one that is outside our comfort zone.  And yet, Jesus says have no fear, all will be revealed.  Jesus encourages us to wear our baptism on our sleeve, don’t whisper and stay quiet about it, proclaim it on the housetops!  Even those in power who can bring bodily harm we should not fear because we have been claimed by God.  Jesus’ difficult message continues as he declares that he isn’t here to bring peace, but a sword, and discipleship may turn family members against each other.  I wish that Jesus had refined his message a bit, smoothed out the rough edges and steep drops, and assured us that surely he doesn’t intend for us to put our lives on the line along our journey of discipleship.  I wish that Jesus placated our desire for polite kindness in our relationships in his call to us, more like a calm kayak through warm, still waters.  But he didn’t, he gave us the turbulent, breath-catching, sometimes dangerous, freezing rapids.  And that’s hard to face. 

Looking back in history at people I would consider disciples, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King Jr, and Malcolm X, I see that discipleship is jagged, icy, rough, and costs everything.  In the book study I’m leading now on Dear Church by disciple Lenny Duncan, he states “The gospel is always a call for liberation.  It infects the hearts of those it has been presented to like wildfire that scorches away hatred.  When did we become so damn afraid of it?  Dear Church, we are cowards.” (p.5)  Are we cowards?  Can I respond to this challenging call that Jesus describes today and live into my baptism as a Christian disciple?  I don’t know, but I think that the problem is my old self.  The problem takes me back to Paul’s letter to the Romans.  The problem is the “I can’t” messages that my old self perpetuates.  The problem is the politeness that our culture and society value over real change, true justice, and actual wholeness.  The problem is that I don’t always live like my old self has been crucified and buried, it keeps coming back to me.  The problem is that this old self takes my courage, renews my fear, and leaves me passive, complacent and waiting.  I need Jesus’ white water rapids, icy cold rafting trip to pierce through my fog.  And really, I need you, this community of faith, to hold on tight and go with me where I’m scared to go, to remind me of my baptism, when I don’t remember it myself. 

          Jesus leaves us today with instructions to take up our cross, lose our life and find freedom in Christ.  Man it’s hard!  Sometimes I wish to avoid taking up my cross like that heavy carry-out food, and sometimes I do.  And the crazy, confusing, wonderful thing is that I’ve found incredible joy in taking up my cross too.  A couple of weeks ago many of us stood together on our front lawn here in solidarity for racial justice.  Many of us, when thinking about participating, wrestled with our old self and eventually committed to come for an hour or two.  Many of us stayed much, much longer because we found joy in the connection we made with one another and with the community.  We were encouraged by the overwhelming show of support from neighbors, drivers, walkers, bikers, and many others who passed by.  Our enthusiasm was fueled by the support of two community members who unexpectedly came and stood with us, joining us in sharing this message for justice.  We were touched by the generous hearts of others who shared cold drinks, balloons and many thanks.  We experienced so much joy in discipleship!  And, still some people weren’t happy about us bringing the message of racial justice out into our front yard and proclaiming it from the housetops.  Some people were set against us as we witnessed disproving hand gestures and received a disgruntled voicemail.  As a community we strengthen one another and will not allow this adversity to renew our old self or dissuade us from living into our call to discipleship.  We won’t let it. 

          As we continue to navigate our path as disciples, we sit with an uncomfortable and heavy, yet unavoidable message from Jesus today.  Our fog of complacency is pierced by the ice cold waters of our baptism.  We are reminded that our old self, along with its toxic messages, has been crucified.  We live together, in Christ, and have been called to break down systems of injustice and promote healing and wholeness for the oppressed.  This call to discipleship is challenging and overwhelming and that is why we have one another, to walk together, encourage each other, and remember the significance of our baptism.  Do not be afraid, you are infinitely valuable to God. 

Amen.

In one of his speeches, a year to the day before he was assassinated in Memphis, Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.”  These words are not only applicable to the systemic racism that must be faced and addressed in our present culture, they also deeply connect to what we read in Matthew’s gospel on this day. 

Today, as we meet up with Jesus, we hear of his emerging ministry and we hear his announcement that the kingdom of heaven has come near. The phrase “kingdom of heaven,” which we find frequently in Matthew’s Gospel, does not refer to a place called “heaven,” where God’s people will go after death.  It refers to the rule of heaven, that is, of God, being brought to bear in this present world.  Jesus’ contemporaries knew and trusted that the creator God intended to bring justice, peace, healing, and liberation to this present world.  The question simply was, how, when and through whom?  And, as Jesus began his ministry, the disciples began to realize he was the promised one through whom this would take place.

So, what does this announcement about the kingdom of heaven mean as we meet up with Jesus in today’s gospel reading?  One of the first things we discover is that it has something to do with compassion.  The Greek word translated as compassion (esplagchnistheÌ) is the word used to describe the main motivation for Jesus’ ministry of healing and teaching. In today’s reading, we hear the first of five times the writer of Matthew’s gospel uses the Greek word we find translated as compassion. And, the meaning of the Greek word is not what we might understand as empathy or sympathy.  No, the Greek word has a meaning that is essentially connected to what one feels inwardly in the lower part of the body, particularly in one’s “bowels” or “guts.”  So, when we find this word used in in today’s reading, Jesus’ compassion is deeply felt and embodied, rising out of his very “bowels” or “guts.” 

We also find that each time the language of compassion appears in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is the one who experiences it after he has observed the state of those around him. He has compassion for people who suffer, both physically and socially. He is moved by what he sees, moved to take concrete action as a response to the needs of the people.  This compassionate response of Jesus is so critical because each time it leads to action as he makes concrete improvements to remedy people’s affliction.  Jesus acts.  Jesus has compassion for the people, proclaims the kingdom of heaven has come near, and he is moved to act.  He goes about curing every disease and sickness as he addresses the social structure of the day and brings healing and liberation to the people.  Yes, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.” 

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is moved by those who live on the edges of society because of illness, disability, ostracism, and social convention, all of which render people "harassed and helpless." And, we find it is compassion working in him that is always propelling God’s mission of redemption for the world’s brokenness. In today’s reading we also discover there is an overwhelming amount of work to get done.  So, Jesus tells his disciples to pray and ask for help, to ask for additional laborers. Ironically, when Jesus tells the disciples to pray that the Lord will send out laborers into the harvest to help, the disciples themselves then become the answer to their own prayer. They are the ones they are praying for!  This should be a reminder for each one of us that we may be the answer to our very own prayers.  And, we should also recall what we pray for when we say the words, “Thy kingdom come, they will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”  When we pray those words, we are called into Christ’s mission in this world!

Anyway, Jesus summons twelve of the disciples and gives them authority to do the work he calls them to do.  He recruits them and commissions them as apostles, a word that means “sent out.” Commissioned by the Compassionate One, they are sent out to do service in the world.  And, Jesus empowers them and equips them for mission, for the work that must be done. The authority these disciples are given is the authority of Jesus, himself.  Through them, Jesus is the one meeting the needs of the people. 

So, what is the overall mission?  It appears to be wrapped up in the message that the kingdom of heaven has come near, and that kingdom is made manifest through the work of curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and casting out demons.  Jesus calls the disciples to a risky mission because of his compassion on needy people.  You see, when the proclamation is made that the kingdom of heaven has come near, words alone are insufficient.  This mission must have visible signs because the message about the coming of God’s rule must be rendered believable through concrete demonstrations of God’s caring.  Yes, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.” 

Friends, the church is now celebrating the season of Pentecost.  This is a season of recognizing we have been empowered to see the world around us, particularly the people in the world often overlooked and ignored, and to act on their behalf in ways that address the circumstances that endanger their lives and communities.  Compassion and action are so needed in our country and our world today.  There is so much brokenness and pain.  Today’s reading reminds us that Jesus' compassion for people is always sparked by a single observation, which is that "others" are "harassed and helpless" and something must be done to address it. What authenticates Christian compassion is the action that accompanies the one feeling it, not the emotion alone.  Living in solidarity with the larger pain of the world is what it means to be a Christian, and that also means working to change systems and structures so healing and liberation take place. 

As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.”  And, as we look at the present pain in our world, Christ’s mission calls us to name the sins of white supremacy and systemic racism, work to dismantle both, and work for restructuring of systems and structures.  Christ’s mission in this world also means that we must take an honest look at ourselves.  In response to the events taking place in our country, the ELCA Council of Bishops has issued this statement:

As the Conference of Bishops, we condemn the white supremacy that has led to the deaths of so many unarmed Black, Indigenous, and Persons of Color in our country. We grieve with, pray for and stand in solidarity with the families and friends of all whose loved ones have been and continue to be victims of injustices run amok, racist violence and the insidious venom of white supremacy. 

The ELCA has also designated this coming Wednesday, June 17, as a day of commemoration as we remember the martyrdom of the Emanuel 9 – the nine people shot and killed on June 17, 2015, during a Bible Study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, S.C.  As we remember the Emanuel 9 and live into Christ’s mission in this world, the

ELCA church body has made the following statement:

“As persons called to love one another as God has loved us, we therefore proclaim our commitment to speak with one voice against racism and white supremacy. We stand with those who are targets of racist ideologies and actions.” As church, together we must work to condemn white supremacy in all forms and recommit ourselves to confront and exorcize the sins of injustice, racism and white supremacy in church and society and within ourselves as individuals and households.

Yes, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.”  Friends, the kingdom of heaven has come near, and Christ’s compassion is on the move!  What is Christ’s compassion calling you to do?

Early in the morning, there was the rush of a mighty wind.   Straight line, hurricane force winds were so strong the large white pine tree in our front yard was knocked down and one very large branch abruptly crashed through our roof, landing on our living room floor.  Trees were toppled throughout the city, hundreds of buildings and vehicles were damaged and power was down throughout most of Muskegon county.  It was Sunday morning, May 31, 1998.  I will always remember worship on that day.  Without electricity, we sang hymns by candlelight.  And, most memorably, accompanied by piano and not organ, the choir sang one of the great choral pieces from The Creation, by Franz Joseph Haydn. That Sunday, May 31, 1998, will be forever etched in my memory because it was also Pentecost Sunday, a celebration of the outpouring of God’s Spirit in the world.  And, the Spirit of God was very present as we gathered for worship on that extraordinary morning.

Today, on this Sunday, May 31, 2020, we again celebrate Pentecost, and I am reminded of that morning twenty-two years ago. I am reminded of the great, destructive, mighty winds, that blew through our community.  Powerful wind, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunami waves – they all fascinate us.  But, nothing really prepares us for the degree of power displayed in these forces of nature as they tear apart our lives.  Destructive power of this magnitude leaves behind unrecognizable landscapes and devastated communities.  And, when we experience such power, life changes.  In an instant the world is turned upside down by a tremendous release of energy through wind, water, air, fire, or earth. 

Another power, a creative, life-giving power of a very different dimension and magnitude informs our faith.  It is also a power that changes lives, but in a very different way.  This is the power the disciples experienced on the day of Pentecost.  This is the power that was received by a small, insignificant group of men and women gathered in Jerusalem as they waited for a promise to be fulfilled.  During that time of waiting, nothing could have prepared them for the strength and power that was about to hit them.  Nothing could have prepared them for the magnitude of their enlightenment as they responded to the world-shattering, transforming, creative Spirit of God.  You see, to stand in its path was to catch fire with divine love.  In an instant, the disciples’ world was turned inside out by a tremendous rush of creative power released into their hearts and minds, souls and bodies – a power the writer of Luke/Acts describes as manifesting itself in tongues of fire upon their heads.

The creative energy that rushed in and was poured out among them was more powerful than any of the natural powers and forces that tear apart.  When this happened, the eyes of their hearts were opened to a world that was previously unknown, an experience that did not fit any of their previous experiences or categories.  They saw a new world through new eyes.  The many differences of culture and language that separated one from another crumbled under the force of this unifying power.  Suddenly, in an instant, each could speak and hear with the same understanding.. 

While the power of nature opens us to the enormity of its ability to destroy, the power of the Spirit opens our hearts and creates.  This is a power that creates new relationships among people and a new intimacy with God.  Bridges that are made by human hands crumble by the force of natural disaster.  But, the Spirit builds bridges beyond time and space, bridges that bind the slave and the free, men and women, Jew and Gentile. This is the power of the Spirit of God, the power that changes lives, the power that sustains creation, the power that reunites what has been torn apart, the power that reconciles the alienated.  This Spirit of Pentecost is the power that rushes into the world as out of nowhere and even breathes life into the place of death. 

Friends, we are presently seeing two pandemics, the pandemic of systemic racism that plagues our culture and the COVID-19 pandemic. We are experiencing not only the divisive, destructive nature of both, but also the resulting grief and pain of both. We grieve George Floyd’s horrific death and we grieve the death of hundreds of thousands to COVID-19. Racism and this virus are like destructive winds blowing throughout the country as they annihilate lives.  Last Sunday evening, I watched the United Council of Churches online Memorial Service for all who have died.  In the depth of pain and death, the creative, life-giving, Spirit was so very present during that service as clergy leaders from multiple denominations participated sharing words of remembrance, grief, faith, and hope.  Some read scripture and prayed in their native languages – Korean, Spanish, French, and the native language of the Navajo tribe.  In the depth of diversity, the oneness of God’s Spirit was remarkably present, the oneness that only God’s Spirit creates.  It was healing and life-giving.  Bishop Michael Curry gave the sermon and he observed that as Jesus was dying on the cross, he said, “Into your hands, I commend my spirit.”  Bishop Curry noted that, at that very moment when Jesus commended his spirit to God’s care as he died, that was also the very moment that marked the beginning of resurrection!  Friends, we, too, commend the spirits and lives of all who have died to God’s care.  And, we commend our very lives to God’s ever-present care, God’s unfathomable love, and God’s ever living, ever creating Spirit. 

As I look at the church today during these challenging times, I do believe God is doing something new among us.  God is transforming the church in ways we do not presently understand, and it is happening before our very eyes.  You see, God’s Spirit is not restricted by human will, desire, thinking or even chaotic circumstances.  We cannot drive its wind or stop its force, any more than we can control hurricane force winds or the devastation of this COVID-19 virus.  We cannot seem to catch it, contain it, control it, or confine it.  As we celebrate this day and remember Pentecost, we celebrate the certain and sure promise that wherever the fire burns, wherever the wind blows, wherever chaos and life intersect, the Spirit of God is there, blowing where it will and driving God’s people into the heart of mission, God’s mission in this world. 

This is the power of Pentecost, the outpouring of God’s Spirit upon the disciples, not only two thousand years ago, but also right here and right now.  And, both then and now, the Spirit rushes in and transforms our experience.  Both then and now, the Spirit breaks open the old to reveal the magnitude of God’s connecting power and there is no returning to the old frame of reference.  Both then and now, lives are changed forever.  Both then and now, hearts are broken open to a dimension of relationship newly reconciled through the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Both then and now, there is no end to the horizon of God’s loving embrace. 

Yes, as I think back and remember that Pentecost morning when a large tree branch broke through the ceiling onto our living room floor, I am always reminded that the creative energy of God overwhelms even the most destructive powers of human beings and nature.  The creative Spirit of God that transformed Jesus’ death on a cross into the greatest act of love the world has ever seen, the creative Spirit of God that raised Christ from the dead, is the same creative Spirit that rushes in and through our own world and is reconciling and reuniting all of creation through us, within us and for us – for the life of the world.

I know that one of the things we deeply grieve during this pandemic time is our inability to gather as people of faith.  We are made to live in relationship with others and we grieve not being able to physically be together in community.  One major theme throughout the gospel of John is relationships.  John’s gospel is all about the relationship of God with the person of Jesus Christ, and God’s relationship with humanity.  In fact, we can say John’s gospel is about God’s relationship with all of creation, with the cosmos.  The gospel of John is all about God revealing God’s glory, the very nature of God’s self, and God’s love for the cosmos as seen through the relationship of love shown to us in the person of Jesus.  If you recall the first words of John’s gospel, you will remember it begins by revealing something about relationship.  We read:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.  All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.  What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.

Did you hear all the words that reveal a sense of relationship?  The Word was with God!  Everything that is created came into being because of God’s desire for relationship.  And, this relationship brings life, life that truly matters.  It is about relationship that is life-giving. 

In John, while the imagery varies like the different instruments of an orchestral piece, the same theme regarding relationship is repeated throughout the gospel, and the melody of that theme is clearly heard in today’s account of Jesus’ final prayer.  The Son came to bring life.  That life consists of living in a knowing relationship with God.  Relationship is what we were created for and that is the dominant melody of this gospel.  Throughout his ministry, Jesus invited people into relationship with God.  And then, after his departure, the Spirit through the disciples will take that offer of life and relationship to the whole world.

Today, we hear John’s version of Jesus’ prayer on the night before his death. Jesus is facing his hour of glory which, in this gospel, means his crucifixion. This is the time for which the “Word of God” was born.  And, Jesus is concerned about something:  disunity and division.  You see, disunity and division destroy relationship.  So, Jesus prays that the disciples will be one.  He desires unity for his followers.  This unity is not a cleverly ambiguous declaration which papers over differences among people.  It is rather an extension of John’s understanding of what eternal life or salvation mean.  In John’s gospel, eternal life is not about a place or a gift or a certificate of acquittal for life after death so much as it is about a relationship. That relationship is one of love and oneness, just like the relationship which exists between the Father and the Son.  So, it must also include such a relationship of love among disciples; otherwise something is simply not being properly understood. If the focus in understanding salvation is not on this relationship, but, say, primarily on a place or a certificate of acquittal for life after death, then the horizontal dimension of mutual love as it is to be lived among people of faith will likely to be the casualty.  For far too long, Christianity has been plagued with thinking of eternal life as a commodity we possess that ensures life after death.  Such an interpretation bankrupts this gospel’s meaning of eternal life and what relationship with God are all about.  John’s gospel is about living eternal life, right here and right now.  John’s gospel invites us into an awareness and understanding of being and living the good news by being the community in which and through which self-giving love is lived out.   

In today’s reading as Jesus faces his impending death, we find that he has needs, just like we do. Jesus states that he wants the closest relationship with God that is possible. That is what he is asking for, and that is what we long for.  Jesus seeks a hope, a hope for communion, for relationship, for life together. John’s gospel is pointing us to that as our hope.  Yes, it is about a future hope.  However, it has a future because it has a present which we already, right here and now, share and delight in as we live in relationship to God and each other.  It is living the life of God’s in-breaking reign right here and right now, living in an interactive relationship with God, a relationship of self-giving love. This is life that truly matters, it is living connected to others as we bear God’s self-giving love in this world. That is the oneness and unity of which Jesus is speaking.

This unity for which Jesus prays is not some ethereal concept.  It is not a unity that sugarcoats the challenges and differences we experience within the life of community, pretending they do not exist.  No, the unity of which this prayer speaks is the oneness of the human with the divine that has been the constant theme of this gospel. This unity is found in understanding God, not as an external being, but as the essence of life itself.  And, this is a unity in which our differences and the diversity among us are celebrated and affirmed. 

Friends, as we look at the world and our communities while thinking about unity, one of the remarkable aspects of unity is that there can be NO unity without accepting and appreciating the wondrous diversity of who we are as people.  Such unity needs diversity.  Such unity means receiving and incorporating the richness of diversity among us.  This understanding of unity gifts us with a sense of wholeness because we need rich diversity so that we can become whole. 

In our western culture we are so deeply rooted in individualism that the communal aspect and appreciation of diversity seems progressively lost.  Increasingly in our culture, we are shaped by dualistic thinking which makes us take positions of us versus them, mine versus yours, etc., to the point in which we as people often seem unable to function.  We see that dangerously present in our culture today.  However, the oneness and unity of which Jesus speaks moves us beyond such thinking.  It moves us to live so that we truly care for and love others. This is about a oneness and unity of mission and purpose.

Friends, even though we cannot gather as we used to, we are living this self-giving love and living this God given unity as we continue to do things like support our Parish House/Samaritas Project.  We are living this self-giving love and God given unity by means of the new ministries we are developing through our Caring Committee.  We are living this unity as we gather for online worship.  We are living this unity as we continue to care for each other. And, we are even living this unity as together we grieve the death of 100,000 people whose lives were lost over the last 110 days.  We live the love of Christ as we grieve and acknowledge that each one of those lives must be remembered.

          Today, we hear Jesus pray for all his followers, for each one of us, and his prayer is all about his desire that we continue to live in a relationship of self-giving love with God and each other.  That is God’s desire for us and for this world. I pray that we continue to live into that kind of love, even during these challenging times.

The known God in whom we live and move and have our being opens us to understanding the love of God. God’s salvation is intended to embrace all creation. The gift that enables us to truly define reality, is the loving relationship that is God’s very nature.  That God of love who abides in us even crosses our limits and breaks through the boxes in which we try to place God.  This known God has infinite love for the world and for all people.  And, like Paul, we are commanded to live this message by living God’s love and sharing the good news of God’s love with others.

Some of you know my youngest son and his family live on Grand Cayman Island. I visited them early in March of this year and, as I said goodbye on March 13, I suspected it would be a very long time before I would see them again. The following Monday the island indefinitely suspended all flights and travel to and from the island. In Michigan, everything began to close, and I began to realize the magnitude of this growing pandemic and the fact that it would truly be a very long time before I could again spend time with any of our kids and grandkids. Every time I say goodbye to our kids, especially those who are so far away, I feel this breaking or tearing in my heart and, when I left on March 13, that tearing apart was much more intense. My heart was very troubled as I was becoming deeply aware that we don’t know what the future holds. And, I felt a real sense of grief as I realized we were experiencing the death of life as we have known it.

As we enter today’s gospel reading, we find ourselves in community with the disciples as we hear Jesus saying goodbye.  Jesus and the disciples had gathered for an evening meal, and he is sharing with them his farewell words.  He has told the disciples he will be leaving them, and they simply do not understand.  Their hearts are very troubled as they sense their time with Jesus is coming to an end.  They have no idea what is going to happen next, no idea that Jesus will be arrested.  They do not understand that Jesus’ crucifixion and death loom on the horizon. It is in this setting that we hear Jesus’ words as he prepares them for his departure. 

I can only imagine the emotion in that room.  Jesus knows the political climate is heating up.  He knows trouble lies ahead.  He also sees the disciples’ anxiety levels rise when they hear him speak words of goodbye.  You see, their vision of the Messiah included trusting a strong leader who would liberate them from Roman occupation.  It did not include a Messiah who would be leaving them. And, they had no idea they were about to experience horror beyond their wildest imagination.  While their hearts were presently troubled, they were about to experience anxiety so intense it would blind them, causing them to flee as their Messiah is crucified.

Knowing the disciples’ hearts are troubled and torn, Jesus says, “Believe in God, believe also in me.”  It is important to know that the words “believe in” would be better translated as “trust into.”  The Greek tense used for this word implies ongoing or continuous relationship.  The use of “into” implies intimate relationship and long-term solidarity with Jesus.  It infers becoming embedded in relationship to God, embedded into the very life of God and into Jesus who is God’s representative.   

As the disciples hear Jesus’ words, they want to know where he is going.  They want to cling to the safety found in location.  They want to know where he is going and how they can go with him.  So, Jesus offers them a metaphor.  He gives them a metaphor for place, a place where they will be able to find him.  He calls it a dwelling. 

Throughout the gospel of John, location is used as a metaphor for intimacy and for relationship.  The words Jesus speaks about dwelling are not simply about a future place where the disciples will be able to find Jesus.  They are about a very present reality, about the place of God’s presence in their lives as they travel their life journeys.  Jesus’ words about dwelling express the reality that God is already present to them, God already dwells here, God already dwells with them and with us on this earth.  

It is also interesting to note the meaning of Greek word used for dwelling means a temporary resting place for a traveler.  This word was associated with caravans.  “In those days, there would be a contingent of folks who would go ahead of the caravan to ‘prepare a place’ so that when the caravan arrived there, the camp ground had been organized, the water supply located, and food was ready.  The travelers in the caravan would have a place of comfort to spend the night.” (John Petty) So, the Greek word used for dwelling or habitation implies a place that is all about welcome, hospitality, and community for people traveling on a journey. 

Well, pragmatic Thomas, the one who is always the realist, wants to get this right.  He hears words about place and dwelling and he wants Jesus to give him a road map!  He wants to get to the place Jesus is talking about.  What Thomas and the others don’t get, is that Jesus is not talking about geography!  So, Jesus responds saying that he is the Way, he is the real and living way.  He does not say, “Here is a list of things you must do to get to God, here is a list of beliefs and you must sign on the bottom line, here is a recipe, a confession, a creed.”  No.  He says, “I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life.  You know me, you’ve been living this way, this road, with me.  And, you already know God. The place where I am going is all about God.  I go to the future where God is already present, and I go to prepare that future for you. You see, the present and the future are both saturated and permeated with God and I go to draw you into that future where I will already be. It is all about life with God, now and in the future.  So, trust into me.”

Jesus’ metaphor provides words of assurance and promise that the relationship is going to continue, even as it changes, and life continues. For the disciples and for us, this journey with Jesus is affirmed.  Jesus will always be present.  Life with Jesus is not a destination, it is a way of being and becoming.  The disciples, and each one of us, will not be forgotten.

Jesus is not talking about a destination or about location, he is really talking about where we place our trust and our hearts. In the large catechism, Luther asks what it means to have a God and he essentially answers by saying that God is what you hang your heart upon. The heart that is troubled is a heart that does not hang upon God but hangs rather on all the things the world peddles to soothe a troubled heart.  In a time of deep uncertainty, Jesus tells the disciples, “Hang your hearts on God; hang your hearts on me.  That is where your home really is.”  And, he tells them that the God on whom they may hang their hearts “has room for them.”  Theologian Robert Jenson writes about God’s roominess in relation, not to space, but to the time God has for us.  He writes:

What is time?  My answer is created time is room in God’s own life.  If creation is God’s making room in himself, then God must be roomy….this roominess of God should be thought of as God’s ‘time,’ that God’s eternity is not immunity to time but God’s having all the time God needs.” 

Friends, that metaphor of God’s roominess is so meaningful for troubled hearts.  What has troubled the disciples’ hearts is a very real sense that their time with Jesus has come to an end. Each one of us have the same kind of relationship with time because we, too, experience the way time robs us of time with those we love.  But, we hang our hearts on the God who has all the time God needs for each one of us and for those we love.  The place Jesus is preparing in God’s own life is eternal life, which, as Robert Jenson often says, is simply another name for God.  And, in Christ, we already dwell in that place, in the very life of God, now and for all eternity.  That is our true home.

As we miss those we love and as we live in these challenging times when our hearts may be troubled, listen again to Jesus’ words to us as he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust into God, trust also into me.  This God in whom we trust is a God who is always with us, a God who loves us so much that this God has chosen not to be God without us.  Your future is secure. The future of your loved ones is secure. A way is being made for you. It is true, that way will entail death. But, death will give way to life, life abundant, life that truly matters.”

I know that, as we continue to live our lives within the context of this pandemic, there is a soundtrack of fear playing in the background of our minds. Many of us are experiencing an element of fear. I know I do. I fear for the health and well-being of all my kids and their spouses, my grandkids, my extended family, my friends and all of you. I pray everyone makes it through this pandemic, coming out healthy and whole on the other side once a vaccine is discovered. So, as I am honest and acknowledge that sense of fear, it is comforting to me that our readings today focus on God as our shepherd, the Good Shepherd. It is reassuring because I know I can place my trust in the Good Shepherd, regardless of what happens and what the future brings.

We just heard the words of Psalm 23.  This is probably one of the best known, best loved poems in scripture.  It is known by people around the world.  In fact, I am sure many of you know Psalm 23 by heart.  As we live these present days, this psalm tells each one of you that God is like a Good Shepherd, caring for you, protecting you and guiding you.  God is the Good Shepherd who walks with you through all of life and provides you with what you need, even in dark valleys when we experience the shadow of death, even in trying times like those we now are experiencing.

          In today’s gospel reading from John we hear more about the one we call the Good Shepherd. For the community to which John was writing, living with fear was a familiar aspect of daily existence. John’s community lived with the reality of persecution and the threat of extinction. Their first-century Mediterranean world was a scary place. Persecutions were heating up, and the followers of Jesus were, in the eyes of Rome, just more lambs for the lions. The Jesus movement was still new, struggling to define itself against the threat of Rome and the threat of competing philosophies and counter claims to truth.

So, within that social context, these early Christians told stories. Often, meeting under cover of darkness, hidden from the authorities, huddled in some secret spot while listening for the sound of Roman boots, they told stories to counter the fear. They told stories that helped to remind them of their identity, to remind them to whom they belonged, and remind them where they could place their trust. When they heard the story of the shepherd and the sheep, it helped them remember who they were and whose they were.  It reminded them of their identity as Christians.

The metaphor of sheep and shepherd made sense to John’s community. In ancient Palestine, multiple shepherds brought their sheep into a common sheepfold for the night. In the morning, in order to take their sheep out to the fields for grazing, each shepherd had to separate his sheep from the common flock. Each sheep had a name, and each shepherd had a unique manner or way of calling his sheep, so each sheep would respond only to its own shepherd. Even if another shepherd called the sheep by its own name it would not respond. It was the knowing that counted.

Yes, John’s community knew about good shepherds. And they also knew about bad shepherds, the thieves of the story who taxed the poor into poverty, the ones who starved the people and fed only themselves, the ones who traded the shalom of their tradition for the Pax Romana of empire. No doubt they longed for a good shepherd. In John’s telling of the Jesus story, they hear that Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the way of comfort and sustenance, abundance and strength, even in the face of death.

I can also imagine that, in their social context, there were times when the people’s fear got the best of them, and they became more concerned about the identity of the stranger than their own identity. But the story of the shepherd helped them to remember a better way. They knew about the way of the Good Shepherd, and that was the way of love, not fear. They became the people of the Good Shepherd. In fact, we know that early Christians began to scratch the image of the Good Shepherd with a lamb slung over his shoulders on catacomb walls; they painted frescoes onto baptismal fonts to mark the beginning of life and they carved the Good Shepherd into tombs, to mark the end of life. They belonged to the Good Shepherd, from the beginning of their lives to end of their lives. The term Good Shepherd was much more than words, much more than an idea. This understanding of Jesus as their Good Shepherd deeply shaped their very identity and way of life. They understood they were to live the Good Shepherd way. The early Christians in John’s community knew they belonged.  And, it did not stop there.  The way of the Good Shepherd was the way of wide-reaching embrace.  Just as each one of them had found a safe place belonging on the inside of their faith community, so were they to include those at the far edge, those in the margins, the least of these and the most vulnerable.  Just as they had been given hope in dark and violent times, so were they to encourage one another.  Just as they were held close in the comfort of the loving shepherd, so were they to reach out, hold others close, comfort others and care for others.  And, those early followers of Jesus became known for their generosity, for the way they cared for the very least and the lost, and truly cared for the common good.  They became known for their love as they became the Beloved Community.

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Isn’t that how we want to be known? Should we not be people who deeply care for the common good of all people and not just our own interests?  Is that not why we have been following theses orders to stay and home and practicing social distancing? It is about the common good and not just each one of us as individuals. In fact, that is the reason we will follow guidelines when we can finally begin to gather for in-person worship.  And, as we live into a new normal for some time, we want to be known as the beloved community.  Friends, even as we live in this present climate of fear, we can live as the beloved community, caring for each other and for the most vulnerable around us.  And, we do this because we know who we are and whose we are.  We belong to the Good Shepherd who is all about love. The opposite of fear, after all, is love. And, that kind of love is not some sweet sentimental kind of love. No. It is the heavy lifting love of the Good Shepherd. As I have said before, loving is hard work and loving our neighbor can be very hard work. But, when we remember our identity and to whom we belong, we are then able to live love. And, the practice of love does change the soundtrack of fear, even within our own lives. It enables us to trust the Good Shepherd, the one who calls us by name and has made us his own, even as we walk through the darkest valleys of life.  We can trust the Good Shepherd who holds all of us in love for all eternity.  That is our story, the story we tell.

When I did my Clinical Pastoral Education at Maine Medical Center, I vividly remember one of my patients, a dear, elderly Episcopalian man who was dying. This man deeply touched my heart. I will never forget the day I read him today’s story from Luke’s gospel. After I finished reading, he said to me, “There’s always an Emmaus.” The next day, my friend died, but I shall always remember what he said in response to that story.

There is always an Emmaus. Biblical archeologists tell us that the exact location of the village of Emmaus is unknown. There are at least nine possible locations that are candidates for the small biblical town, but historians tell us there is no record of any village called Emmaus in any other ancient source. We simply do not know where Emmaus might have been. Tradition tells us that it might have been a place just a few hours walk from Jerusalem. However, New Testament scholars, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, suggest that Emmaus is nowhere. Emmaus is nowhere precisely because Emmaus is everywhere. Every one of us has at one time, or indeed for some of us, many times, traveled along the road to Emmaus. Yes, there is always an Emmaus.

I know that I have been on the road to Emmaus most of my life. I’ve had lots of company on that road to Emmaus as many others have walked with me, taking me to a deeper understanding of scripture and a deeper understanding of faith in the risen Christ. Like Cleopas and his companion who traveled that road to Emmaus while broken and grieving, I have made that journey in a state of confusion, bewilderment, and brokenness. And, as I have traveled that road, the risen Christ has been present, speaking to me through my companions in the conversations we have had. You see, I have always had questions and I have voraciously wanted to learn more and go deeper in my understanding faith, religion, and indeed life. I have always loved to discuss the important things of life, and I have always had an insatiable appetite and hunger that burns within me as I want to better understand the deeper truths regarding faith, God’s presence to us, and what that means for our understanding of the world, sociology, culture, science, my life, and our lives as people of faith. Yes, there is always an Emmaus and, yes, I have traveled that road most of my life.

Learning about this earth, the planet on which we live, and the natural world has also been an Emmaus journey for me. Last Wednesday was Earth Day, and today is the Sunday the Green Team was going to lead worship as we celebrate this earth, this gorgeous planet on which we live, and the risen universal Christ’s presence to us in all of creation. For the past 50 years the world has set aside April 22nd to think about the gift we have been given in this home we call mother earth. Earth Day almost always falls during our liturgical season of Easter. So, it is fitting that, as we celebrate the resurrected Jesus, we celebrate Earth Day. During this time we are reminded that we celebrate the one who was born so that we could know God’s presence in our world and in our flesh, the God who suffered and continues to suffer the burdens and sorrows and pains of our world, even the pains of this suffering creation. Easter is about new life and the risen Christ bringing forth new life. And, friends, that is not simply some kind of disembodied life that only awaits us in some future consummation. It is the first fruits, the seed that rises as a green blade to bear fruit. In the northern hemisphere where we live, Easter arrives with the signs and symbols of spring, the flowers, and the songs of returning birds. As we pay attention to these signs and symbols, this focus can become one of the ways in which we discover the risen Christ among us. We discover we are deeply and inextricably connected to creation and re-creation, to our Creator and this Earth.

So, yes, we observe and celebrate Earth Day in the church! The ELCA has had a focus on caring for creation since our denomination was formed. And, as we mark 50 years of this Earth Day celebration, we also look ahead. We look to the 11 remaining years before it is too late to stop a 2° Celsius temperature rise for our planet. We know that a commitment to address this issue needs to happen now. We know that it takes all people across the globe, people of all religions, to work together to adapt, to mitigate what is coming, and provide the necessary change that is urgent. Over 97% of climate scientists in this world are warning us and telling us what we need to do now. And, in fact, some of them are members of this Faith community. They are prophets in our time. And, if we truly care for our neighbor, we need to listen to their message and respond appropriately. As people of faith, this response is something that is rooted in our faith and it is all about living out our love for our neighbors.

As I said, our Green Team was going to focus on this today, but our lives have been interrupted and disrupted by the COVID-19 virus. And, as we listen to the scientists regarding both this virus and climate change, we need to face the deeper truth that the disruption we now face is only a foretaste of the disruption we will likely face if the world does not address the issue of climate change. Most scientists agree that addressing climate change is THE most important task for humanity. But, there is hope!  We can do this. When we look at the way the world has come together to act and address COVID-19, it gives us hope that we can also come together to address climate change.

 As Christians, we name “love” as an act of ultimate importance. Friends, love includes addressing climate change and caring for this planet! Just as honoring the stay at home order and practicing social distancing is all about loving our neighbor, caring for this earth, and working to make a difference, is also all about loving our neighbor! The impending impacts are so catastrophic, and our window of time is getting short. As people created by God and placed in relationship with all of creation, all the threatened creatures, from the most vulnerable human populations to species endangered by extinction and ecosystems moving toward collapse, there is so much at stake. Rooted in scripture, and our understanding of the risen Christ, we can draw on all that Jesus did and taught in the context of our beautiful, life-giving, and threatened world. Resurrection takes place in bodies and is encountered in and through bodies. And the encounters are not limited to human bodies but to other forms of life and matter around us. Our Emmaus journey can help us see more clearly that we are enmeshed in the communion of the planet and cosmos. We can allow our hearts to burn within us as we, too, walk with the Risen One and have our eyes opened to our deep connectedness to this earth.  We can have our eyes opened to recognize and discern, through words and conversations with scientists, by actions of gratitude, and even in the simple but sacred ritual of breaking and sharing bread.

Friends, there is always an Emmaus. At the heart of the Emmaus story is an urging towards a deeper faith: to recognize and discern, not just to see. Like Cleopas and his companion, we need to open our eyes to what is before us. As ecological readers of today’s gospel, this means being attentive to the material, to matter itself as we look at this world, to be eyewitnesses to everything we see around us, and to grow and mature in our understanding so that we recognize the relationships that form our Earth community. And, as we learn and grow, we are on the road to Emmaus. Yes, there is always an Emmaus.

This past week, I came upon this phrase, “Easter reminds us that some of God’s best work happens when the world is darkest.”  That phrase had deep meaning for me as we are presently living in a metaphorically dark time.  With COVID-19 raging throughout the world, we are experiencing a real time of darkness as we live with much uncertainty, disruption, loss, fear, grief, and doubt. And, yet, as we experience this form of darkness, the message of Easter reminds us that God has the last word and God is at work when the world seems to be at its darkest.

When we experience times like this, we tend to experience more doubt. We question God’s presence to us and with us, and we ask the question, “Where is God in all of what is happening?”  We ask this because we cannot always see what God is doing as we experience pain. And, we often are afraid to be honest about the fact that we have doubt.  However, as theologian Paul Tillich suggests, doubt is a very necessary element in faith. In fact, a living faith includes doubt and such doubt requires risk and courage. In her book, Outlaw Christian, Jacqueline Bussie, when talking about doubt being a good and necessary element in faith, writes:

How can doubt, rooted as it is in uncertainty, be a good thing, or at the very least an acceptable thing?  For starters, we should acknowledge and name the doubt within us because, much like snot and passing gas, doubt is natural and human – that is to say, embarrassing and unwelcome but real and impossible to be healthy without, much as we want to pretend otherwise.  But more than just natural, doubt is also necessary, healthy, and good for our faith life.  Doubt functions as a robust spiritual virtue, rather than faith’s wimpy opposite. (Outlaw Christian, p.50)

Yes, doubt functions as a robust spiritual virtue. In fact, I believe doubt is the seedbed of faith. Doubt is often where the seeds of faith are planted, and then they then begin to grow.

Well, in today’s gospel, we come face to face with doubt. And, while doubt comes to the forefront in the story of Thomas, the truth is that all the disciples were experiencing doubt. It is the day of the resurrection and the disciples are sitting in a room behind locked doors because of fear, doubt, and quite likely more than a little shame. And, Jesus appears among them. They all doubted him! They doubted it was Jesus! It is only after Jesus shows them his hands and side that the disciples rejoice because they have seen the Lord. But, Thomas was not there with the others on that evening. And, while all the disciples experienced doubt, for some strange reason, only Thomas gets labeled “doubter.”

Far too often we judge Thomas because of his doubt. We need to cut him some slack and give him a break.  In Thomas we find the yearning of one who truly wants to see with his eyes and touch with his hands that of which he has been told. He has real questions, real concerns, and a desire for a real encounter with the risen Lord.  I think the story of Thomas captures our hearts and minds because we, too, were absent to the Resurrection experience two thousand years ago. When faced with the mystery of the Resurrection, the story of Thomas names that part in each of us that wants to scream out, “Show me!”

Thomas has just had a very harsh encounter with reality. Reality had hit hard in the form of a cross when his dear friend had been crucified.  And, for Thomas, when he fled that horrible scene, not only had Jesus died, Thomas’ hopes and dreams had also died. Jesus’ crucifixion had destroyed his hopes for the future and very poignantly reminded Thomas that there is an end. And, it is the same for us.  When the harsh realities of life hit us – whether it be the death of a family member, the loss of a job, an unexpected illness, a broken relationship, or whatever – reality deeply cuts into our hopes, our dreams, the very fabric of our relationships, and we are reminded that there is an end.  There is an end over which we have no control as we feel we have been taken captive by an extremely cruel conqueror. And, we usually experience doubt! I think many of us are experiencing such doubt as our “normal” way of life has been hit hard, interrupted and changed by this cruel COVID-19 virus.

As we look at the experience of Thomas, reality had left him emotionally bleeding and broken. So, when he again joins the community of disciples, within the context of those who proclaim Jesus is alive, Thomas lays bare his doubt.  He is very honest about his doubt as he says, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  In the depth of his despair Thomas articulates his doubt, and it is in that place where he is now confronted with the risen Christ. It is in that place of despair that Thomas is greeted by the risen Lord whose presence exudes forgiveness and grace when he hears the words, “Peace be with you.”  In that moment, Thomas knows he is in the presence of God and he believes. Greeted by forgiveness and grace embodied in Jesus’ words to him, Thomas then makes the great confession of John’s gospel: “My Lord and my God!”

In this experience of Thomas, we find that doubt is a question mark and faith is an exclamation point as he makes that great confession. And, if we look at our own lives, I think we might discover that the most honest, believable, and realistic stories we have lived include both doubt and faith. Thomas lays bare his doubt which takes him to this encounter with the grace of God, embodied and enfleshed in the risen Lord Jesus. Doubt drives him to question, and that question takes him to this place where the risen Lord becomes present to him, the place where his entire reality is changed. The despairing Thomas does not escape from the real world and there is not a break from the tangible reality of the world. No. But, there is something very different, something very, very new. God’s grace and God’s kingdom have invaded the real world. God has transformed it, and nothing will ever be the same again.

Thomas experiences Easter in the way many of us begin to experience it. Thomas finally gets Easter when he brings forth his questions. He wants to see and touch. He wants tangible proof and needs his own encounter before he can trust the story. It is doubt that compels Thomas to ask the questions and it is doubt that takes him to the place where he is looking for what is really real, and what truly matters. You see, without doubt, our faith is shallow and rootless. We fail to go down deep. And, quite honestly, if we do not express doubts and have only certainty, it closes us off to the newness that we so long for. Doubt is a sign of a healthy and deep-rooted faith, though most of us are taught to believe the opposite. And, when doubt takes us to the deeper places in faith our reality changes. We are transformed and our perspective on all of life changes.

The story of Thomas and his doubt is one of the most compelling, believable, realistic stories in the Bible because it is our story. Doubt is an element of faith because it gives birth to the questions that arise which take us to the deeper places in life. Doubt functions as a robust spiritual virtue, rather than faith’s wimpy opposite, because the questions that arise are the heartbeat of our faith! They enable us to be open to the risen Christ who is always breaking into our lives, even into this present darkness, as God is continually at work, making us new. Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Safety is something that is on all our minds these days.  And, along with that concern, most of us are living with a certain amount of fear.  As we live with this stay at home order, we do so because we are rightly concerned for people’s safety, concerned for the safety of those in our families, and concerned for our own personal safety and security.  We do this because we are justifiably fearful of this COVID-19 virus and the way it is spreading in our world.  While this concern is necessary and required, the intentional focus on safety intensifies our fear and anxiety as it permeates our culture and each of our lives.

Well, in the last chapters of Matthew’s gospel, we find people who were fearful and intently focused on safety, their own safety and security. When Jesus was betrayed and arrested, the disciples were fearful and so they sought safety in the cover of darkness by deserting Jesus and fleeing the garden.  Peter was fearful and sought safety in that courtyard by trying to stay a distance away from Jesus, while trying to follow what happened to Jesus during his trial.  And, after Jesus was safely dead, the chief priests asked Pilate to place guards at the sealed tomb where Jesus’ body was laid to rest.  They remembered that Jesus had said he would rise again in three days.  They were fearful and wanted a secure tomb.  So, Pilate told his soldiers to “make that tomb as secure and safe as you can,” as he placed twenty-four-hour guards to keep watch.

Well, guess what!  It did not work!  It did not work for Peter who ended up denying Jesus three times.  And, it did not work for the chief priests who tried to secure and seal Jesus in a tomb.  It did not work because Jesus, the Word made flesh, cannot be contained.  All the chief priests’ attempts at achieving security and safety were shattered when the very foundations of the earth shook.  And, by a power greater than all their efforts, Jesus was raised! 

When the very foundations of the earth shook as tectonic plates shifted, even Pilate’s security detail fell to the ground in fear.  As the soldiers become like dead men, grounded in fear, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary are greeted by the angel who says, “Don’t be afraid.  I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.  Come, see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’  This is my message for you.”

The women then go, and what is so interesting is that they leave the tomb with both fear and joy!  While they are joyful, an element of fear has not left them.  They apparently do not exactly feel safe.  You see, they are living an experience in which the very foundation of the earth under their feet has shaken them to the core.  Their dear friend who was dead has not stayed dead!  Talk about not feeling secure and safe!  And, as they run to tell the disciples, who should run into them but Jesus.  Jesus, their risen Lord stands before them and says to them, “Do not be afraid.”  They encounter the risen Christ and hear him say, “Do not be afraid,” and it is the very last time in Matthew’s gospel that we hear anything about fear. 

As the women encounter the risen Christ, it becomes very clear to them that reality itself had changed.  The Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore describes this change in the women and all of Jesus’ disciples by saying:

As the first Christians came to recognize the risen Christ, they experienced boldness and freedom of speech that surprises those of us who read their stories.  It is as if their security came from the inside out.  They were not afraid of people who scoffed at their claims.  They were not afraid of authorities who ordered them to stop speaking of Jesus.  They were free from what the neighbors thought about them and free from what the established power structure could do to them.

          Now, we know that the disciples did face threats and persecution following Christ’s resurrection.  The history of the early church indicates many of them were killed for professing Christ as Savior and proclaiming their faith.  However, after experiencing Christ’s resurrection, even the threats made against their lives by those who were in power did not own them or define them.  Fear no longer defined the way they lived or their proclamation of the good news.  And, what is so amazing is that even all of the mistakes they had made, all of their fear induced foolishness and prior cowardly behavior, was met by the risen Christ who did meet them in Galilee.  Their encounter with the risen Christ freed them from all that had been, and their reality was changed.  And, even more, the risen Christ promised to be with them to the end of the age. 

          So, on this Easter morning, what might that kind of freedom mean for you?  How does this good news free you from the fear that binds you? How does this good news change the way you hear the daily news reports?  How does this good news change the way we feel as we live through this pandemic and indeed need to stay home?  How does this good news change the way you will live as, out of necessity, we will be living a new kind of normal for some time?  How does this good news transform all that defines you?  How does this good news transform this faith community and the way we live and minister to the greater community?  The risen Christ stands before us saying, “Do not be afraid!” 

          Because of Easter, we know the foundation of all that once was has been shaken and God is creating a new heaven and a new earth.  And, because of Easter our lives are safe and secure, regardless of our present circumstances because our lives are held with Christ, in the very God of all creation.  While we cannot escape the realities of this broken, fractured, hurting, diseased world, we defiantly place our hope and trust in the risen Christ who stands before us and says, “Do not be afraid.”  Do not be afraid, because we know a Savior who died on the cross to break the power of everything that threatens to enslave or oppress or distort or destroy our humanity.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we know and trust a God who takes all our pain and sorrow and suffering and sadness and loss and even death and turns it all into new life.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe the new life that came into being on that early morning two thousand years ago will one day transform everything and everyone.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe in a God who brings hope out of hopelessness and new life out of the powers of death that are raging around us.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe in a God who is working to bring grace and peace and mercy and love and justice and freedom and joy and life into every life.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter and because we believe in a God who raised Jesus from the dead, we believe that even death does not have the last word.  God alone has the last word.  You are secure!!  We are secure!!

          Do not be afraid!  Because of Easter we are secure and our future is secure!  For the powers of death have already been defeated and, no matter how viciously they presently rage or what power and authority they try to claim, Christ has already won the victory!   So, we defiantly stand on this day and proclaim this good news:  Christ is Risen!  He is Risen indeed!  Alleluia!