Monday, July 17, 2017

Sermon for Proper 10, Year A, 2017

The First Lesson: Isaiah 55:10-13

The Psalm: 65:1-14

The Second Lesson: Romans 8:1-11

The Gospel: Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23


The Sermon
     The parable we heard today, that of “the good sower,” is one of only two which Jesus explains. (See note under Sources below) The sower is none other than God; the seeds are faith; the soil is humanity. You might think this would make the preacher's work easier. Not so. Despite this explanation, I still have questions. A traditional reading of this Gospel would focus on us as the soil, and what we might do to become better soil. I don't think comparing people to soil is a bad metaphor. Though there are things which can be done to improve the soil – to make it healthier and richer – the soil is never perfect. The same can be said for every human being throughout history. We all strive and we all struggle. It is true that our choices and our striving matters. I find these truisms to be reassuring. I like having choices, and the ability to know I can influence things, even if I can't control them. I want to strive to be better soil. It's in my power to do so, however imperfect my efforts might be. Despite this reassurance, I still have lingering questions. I understand what this parable says about us. What I don't understand it what this parable says about God. If God is infinitely powerful, working anywhere and everywhere and at all times, why does the seed God spreads sometimes fail? Shouldn't it flourish wherever it lands, bloom wherever it's planted? And yet – it doesn't. Instead, the seeds of faith fail to thrive. It's the exact opposite of today's words from Isaiah. To paraphrase: My word will not return to me empty. Ever. It accomplishes my purposes. Always. If God's words in Isaiah are true, what are we to make of this contradictory parable? Should it be dismissed as simply that – a contradiction? Or could it be that God is up to something we can't understand, perhaps something unexpected?

     You may know that I just returned to Sioux Falls after spending three years attending a seminary on the east coast. Virginia Theological Seminary is located just across the Potomac river from Washington, DC. I did my growing up here, in South Dakota. I went only as far as Minnesota for college. You are probably aware that there are a lot more people living on the eastern seaboard of the U.S. than here, and in a lot less space. So, when I visited the seminary for the first time, I expected to see miles of concrete and steel. After growing up on the vast expanse of the prairie, I didn't think it was possible for that many people could fit in such a small space any other way. I was surprised to learn the reality was quite different. The seminary and the surrounding neighborhood were not only lined with huge majestic trees but bordered with patches of forest. The seminary itself sits on eighty acres of land and is made up of extensive, rich green space. There's so much space that the daycare kids go for a walk while holding onto the “class string,” all without leaving the seminary campus. The seminary's flag football team had its own designated playing field. So, that was my first surprise: all of the open space and all of the green.

     The next surprise wasn't about the land, but did come from it. One of my classmates, Robin, has a degree in viniculture and, in addition to loving God and having a deep desire to serve the church, is passionate about gardening. (You did hear me correctly. Soon, Robin will be a priest who knows how to make wine from grape seeds!) Now, I've painted a very green picture of the campus. However, like much of Virginia, the soil itself was over-cultivated over more than four centuries of use and was not particularly fertile. Despite the clay-like, shallow soil found in many parts of the seminary's campus, Robin determined we would have a campus gardening club. Though I was interested in supporting her work and enjoyed being outside and gardening myself, I admit I was skeptical. How could this dense clay possibly be transformed into productive soil? But under Robin's leadership, transform it we did.

     Every day, the campus community gathers at the Welcome Center for free coffee – and we need a lot of it to get through seminary! The used grinds became fertilizer for the labyrinth-shaped garden. I expected to do many different and new things while at seminary; hauling large buckets of used coffee grinds was not among them! I thought this was a strange choice of fertilizer. Our efforts, however, paid off when the garden bore fruit (or rather, in our case, vegetables). The location selected for the new wheat garden consisted of thin soil atop of infertile and impenetrable clay. Again, I was skeptical; this did not look like a promising space for a healthy garden. But following many tractor-loads from the seminary's mulch pile, season by season that very space transformed discarded leaves into progressively richer soil. The most surprising space was, for me, yet to come. Because all of the full-time faculty live on campus, we made use of a faculty member's lawn. This particular section of lawn had no dirt to speak of; it was made of clay dotted with hearty grass. This appeared as unlikely a place as the other two, but this time, I was less skeptical. Here, instead of making our own dirt, as we had in the wheat garden, straw bales were hauled in. I had never heard of such a thing. How could straw possible become “soil?” But with a little mulch on top, fertile it became. That garden produced even more vegetables – including sweet peas, one of my favorites, with their climbing vines.

     I've described our success stories. Though much of our garden work bore fruit, not all of it did. Like people, the natural world does not always cooperate with our wants. Not all of the vegetables flourished; in fact, some of them didn't grow at all. The very first year, when we were on the verge of harvesting a substantial wheat crop, the birds dove in days before and ate it all – not unlike the parable we heard today! (I suppose birds need to eat, too. But couldn't they have found some bugs?) Regardless of the obstacle, in a short time we were back at it, planting again, making adjustments to boost the soil for better growth and making plans to thwart the birds.

     I encountered surprising green and growth during my seminary experience. Some of that was a gift from God; for example: science can explain some of the seed's growth, but to some extent, it's a miracle. And some of it required work to bring about. Thinking about those experiences makes me wonder if the apparent contradiction between the passage from Isaiah and the parable of the “Good Sower” isn't a contradiction at all, but rather a statement on the nature of things – the nature of life, the nature of people, and the nature of God. Plan as we might, life is unpredictable and the unexpected happens. Accidents and injuries happen; storms hit. The birds descend and eat up months of hard work in a matter of minutes. People don't always do what we want them to do. Sometimes, we are disappointed most by the ones we love most. Just as those we love must choose for themselves, God allows us that same freedom. Even when our choices – or lack thereof – cause us to fall short, God continues to sow seeds of love in our lives. This is where I think the parable makes an important statement about the nature of God. God knows we will fall short, that we won't always be receptive to God's love or love others the way we ought. The soil of our lives may be too hard, to compact, or too sunny. We may or may not be able to change our soil to make it more receptive. And yet – God loves us anyway. Imperfect though our soil may be, God plants abundant love anyway, in the hopes that it will grow in spite of our imperfections. Just like the sower in the parable, God's love is generous, given without thought of the cost or lost returns.

     I believe that love and that generosity forms the very heart of God. And thanks be to God for that love, given to us generously, without reserve, regardless of our choices, our shortcomings, or our failures. Regardless of anything we have done, or failed to have done, the Eternal God of the universe loves us eternally.

Source:

My thinking about this Gospel was shaped by Pulpit Fiction's podcast 228 for Proper 10A for July 16, 2017 at https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper10a

Saturday, May 6, 2017

"Senior Sermon:" Friday after Easter 3, Year A, 2017

Introduction

Every year, graduating students at Virginia Theological Seminary are given the opportunity to preach during a Eucharistic service, held every weekday in the seminary's chapel. This was the result of my opportunity to do so.

The readings of the day were from Acts and the Gospel According to John.

Sermon


     In today’s passage from Acts, Paul and Ananias both receive a call from God. They are called to do something entirely unexpected. They were both very wrong in the assumptions they made about others. They were called to take risks which they were completely unprepared to make. Paul thought he knew what he was doing and was convinced he did it for the right reasons. Ananias was convinced he knew Paul. They were both confident in their own knowledge and their own self-sufficiency.

     This piece of Paul’s journey makes me think of a situation I encountered in Myanmar this past January. Of course, it was not as dramatic as Paul being “blinded by the light.” But it was challenging – and enlightening – in its own way.

     Our group was privileged to participate in several conferences and visit several seminaries in different regions and dioceses during our stay Myanmar. Often, we met with a small group of locals with the help of a translator. Sometimes, we were with another member of the Virginia Seminary contingent; and sometimes, we were alone. Sometimes we chose the discussion topics; other times, our hosts did. The discussion where I received my unexpected challenge took place at a seminary. As the only senior on this immersion, I was paired with a group of students preparing to graduate in a few weeks. In Myanmar, school runs on a different schedule, with the typical academic year ending in March – so, these seminarians were not unlike some of us seniors right now! My hosts wanted to know more about seminary and church life in the United States. We talked some about clergy roles and expectations. Then, a serious-looking young man with a concerned expression spoke. He was coming to the end of his studies, about to move into the world of ministry, the world of caring for real people. He felt ill-prepared. “He would like you to speak a word of encouragement to him,” the translator said.

     Now I was the one who was caught unprepared! And I'm going to be completely honest with you. The first thought which came into my mind at that moment was: Crap. More than once, I was grateful for the translation time, which gave me an extra moment to think, perhaps even to pray. I prayed a short prayer at that moment. I encouraged him to rely on more experienced priests and mentors, as I plan to do. I also encouraged him to pray. When we encounter situations which we don’t know how to respond, we can rely on the wisdom of Jesus when our own wisdom fails. I admitted my prayer life is not as disciplined or as deep as I would like it to be. And I admitted that in spite of years of preparation I, too, felt unprepared. Sometimes, it felt like I was the only one who felt that way. But now, he was not alone – and neither was I.

     In some ways, even though I am only a few pages and a few days from earning a Masters’ in Divinity, I still feel totally unprepared. The more I learn, the more I realize I have that much more to learn. And I don’t like being unprepared! I was a Girl Scout for nine years, and I still live by the “be prepared” motto. But, like Paul and Ananias, I’ve come to understand that sometimes, despite my best efforts, my knowledge will fall far short of what’s needed. And when it does, it’s not my job to be prepared. Sometimes, it’s my job to show up, be fully present, and allow God to work through me. For the priest is not the bread of life. Jesus is. My prayer for you and me is that we will allow ourselves to be sustained by that most sacred Bread, and that through us, others will find that very Bread. 

Monday, March 20, 2017

Chapel Team Eucharist Bulletin (March, 2017)

Preliminary Comments: I created the following service based on a number of resources (as cited at the end of the document) and following the structure of An Order for Celebrating the Holy Eucharist found on page 400 of the Book of Common Prayer 1979. The theme of generosity was chosen based on a careful but non-traditional reading of the day's Gospel passage from Luke. Language of generosity was woven throughout the service, particularly in the prayers of the people and preface to the Eucharistic prayer, which I wrote myself. Besides facilitating the service and organizing the supplies for the reflection activity, I delegated all other service-related tasks. 

bless your enemies
Holy Eucharist
According to An Order for Celebrating the Holy Eucharist found in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979
Monday, March 13, 2017

Gather
Presider: Blessed be God, Giver of Life, Creator of all that is.
People: And blessed be God’s kingdom, now and forever. Amen.
Presider: Let us pray.
Eternal God, You heal the broken and redeem the lost. Send Your Spirit upon us. Fill us with your generosity, that our love for one another may be as constant as your love for us. May we be merciful as you are merciful. In the name of Jesus Christ, your son, we pray. Amen.

Proclamation: The Old Testament
Reader: Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s people. / People: Thanks be to God.

Listen and Reflect: Gospel and Interactive Reflection
What does it mean to be generous as God is generous?
Reflection Explanation

Prayers of the People
Let us pray to God responding, God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for your church. We pray for unity in love even in the face of our differences. We pray for leaders in every church community and our own church community, especially Archbishop Welby, Bishop Johnston and Dean Markham. We pray also for [those institutions in our community prayer cycle]. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for all who hold authority in every nation. We pray for the leaders of our country, our states and our cities. We pray they will have the best interests of the most vulnerable at the heart of every decision. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for the world. We pray for the well-being of all people. We pray for peace in every nation and peace between all nations. We pray for all who have experienced and continue to experience the pain of war. We pray for those who lack basic security, especially refugees. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for the needs of our seminary community. We pray you will sustain us through the upcoming days of mid-term examinations, papers, projects and grading. Surround us with your wisdom and your peace. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for those who suffer. We pray especially for those with any physical or mental illness. We pray for those who are isolated from their families and communities. We pray for those dear to us who are suffering, especially [those on our community prayer list]. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

Eternal God, we pray for those who have died and those who mourn, especially for [those on our community prayer list]. Surround all mourners with your love and comfort. God of generosity...Hear our prayer.

The Confession and Absolution
Presider: We have all fallen short of God’s call to love all, even those who do not love us. Let us confess our sins before God. 
All: God of all mercy,
we confess that we have sinned against you,
opposing your will in our lives.
We have denied your goodness in each other,
in ourselves, and in the world you have created.
We repent of the evil that enslaves us,
the evil we have done,
and the evil done on our behalf.
Forgive, restore, and strengthen us
through our Savior Jesus Christ,
that we may abide in your love
and serve only your will. Amen.
Presider: Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you all your sins through the grace of Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life. Amen.

The Peace
Presider: May the peace of the Lord be always with you.
People: And also with you.
Presider: Let us show one another a sign of peace.

The Holy Eucharist
Presider: The Lord be with you.
People: And also with you.
Presider: Lift up your hearts.
People: We lift them to the Lord.
Presider: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
People: It is right to give God thanks and praise.
Presider:
Eternal God, by your own hand you created the universe and all that is in it. You made the earth and blessed it with abundant resources, so that all creatures have everything they need. You surround us with your constant love, yet we fall short of that love by failing to care for one another and failing to care for the bountiful creation you have given.
In spite of our failures and faithlessness, you, Eternal God, have remained faithful throughout the ages. You led Abraham and his family to lands unknown. You used the evil of Joseph’s brothers selling him into slavery as a means to save your chosen family from starvation. You saved Moses from the danger of the Nile and the perils of the desert, and used him, in spite of his weakness, to lead your people from slavery to freedom. You provided food for your people during their long journey across the barren desert. Though you gave many gifts, your people forgot your love and failed to care for one another. Determined to reach them, you set your Spirit upon your prophets, that they might call your people back to you. Eventually, you sent your own heart, Jesus Christ, to redeem us and show us the way of true and perfect love.
Therefore we praise you, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven, who forever sing this hymn to proclaim the glory of your name: Holy, Holy, Holy Lord / God of power and might...
On the night before he died for us, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread; and when he had given thanks to you, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, "Take, eat: This is my Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me."
After supper he took the cup of wine; and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them and said, "Drink this, all of you: This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me."
Eternal God, we remember the life, death and resurrection of your only Son, Jesus Christ. We await his coming again in glory. Accept this sacrifice of praise, in thanksgiving for the great generosity you have show us and all of your creation.
Send your Holy Spirit upon these gifts. Let them be for us the Body and Blood of your Son. And grant that we who eat this bread and drink this cup may be filled with your life and your goodness.
All this we ask through your Son Jesus Christ. By Christ, with Christ, and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit all honor and glory is yours, Almighty and Eternal God, now and forever. AMEN.

Post-Communion Prayer
Presider: Let us pray.
All:
God of abundance,
you have fed us
with the bread of life and cup of salvation;
you have united us
with Christ and one another;
and you have made us one
with all your people in heaven and on earth.
Now send us forth
in the power of your Spirit,
that we may proclaim your redeeming love to the world
and continue for ever
in the risen life of Christ our Savior. Amen.

Dismissal
The Wisdom of God, the Love of God, and the Grace of God
strengthen you to be Christ’s hands and heart in this world,
in the name of the Holy Trinity. Amen.

Service Participants
Greeters: Matthew Rhodes
Readers: Kevin Laskowski; Barbara Anne Fisher; Halim Shukair
Intercessor: the Rev Serena Sides
Deacon: the Rev Cara Rockhill
Celebrant: the Rev Ruthanna Hooke, PhD
Gospel read from the NRSV, CEB & NJB translations; other readings from the NRSV
Brick wall graphic courtesy Jeremy Meyers, redeeminggod.com

Monday, December 12, 2016

Sermon for Advent 3, Year B, 2016

The First Lesson: Isaiah 35:1-10
The Second Lesson: James 5:7-10
The Gospel: Matthew 11:2-11
The Collect:

God of the burning sand and thirsty ground: you called John into the wilderness to announce a new creation far from palaces of royal power; make us ready for your intensity, the judgement that opens our senses to the poverty of our world and calls to life what lingers in death; through Jesus Christ, the one who is to come. Amen. 
The Sermon: 
          May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, God of the burning sand and the thirsty ground. Amen.
          We are all thirsty. The kind of thirst which is quenched by water is part of living in a body. But there are other kinds of thirst which run much deeper. Often, we must wait for those deeper thirsts to be fulfilled.
          By the time of Jesus’ ministry, the Jewish people had been waiting a very long time. The arc of Scripture details their journey with oppression. For centuries, they lived under the power of one overlord or another. And for each day in those centuries, they craved justice for their suffering and freedom from oppression. Their thirst was deep. And they waited. This was the context of the question John sent his disciples to ask Jesus. “Are you the one of is to come?” That is: are you the Messiah? At the time, many expected the Messiah would lead a rebellion resulting in the overthrow of the Romans, the overlords at that time. They wanted a leader who met the expectations of worldly power. God, however, had other intentions: to end the suffering of the outcast and heal the broken. In such actions are the kingdom of God truly found.
          As I prepared for this sermon, I thought about my paternal grandmother. Today is her birthday. Were she still with us, she would be eighty-seven. Like many of my relatives her age, she grew up in rural South Dakota, where the prairie is vast and the land is often thirsty, and farmers wait for the outcome of crops in which they invested so much. Grandma knew deep hunger in her own life, too. When she was nine, her mother died suddenly. One of the things my grandmother thirsted for was family. Part of this was her generation, but I think another part was the loss she experienced so young. She missed her mother deeply, and her entire life. Of course, she had her brothers and sisters. And within a few years of her mother’s death, her father re-married and through that marriage she gained additional siblings. She grew up and raised seven children of her own. She was always surrounded by family and family was the center of her world. Yet through it all, she still missed her mother. When she was well into her seventies, she spoke to me of the day her mother died with tears. Grandma waited for more than seven decades to be reunited with her mother. During that time, she thirsted.
          Today’s epistle from James speaks of waiting as being a blessing. When I read the text in preparation for this sermon, my first reaction was: “that’s crazy!” Just as being thirsty is physically uncomfortable, waiting is emotionally uncomfortable. I hate waiting – I want to be done with whatever task is at hand, so I can check that task off my list, move on to the next thing, and check that next thing off the list, too. You may hate waiting, but I’m sure you’re not nearly as impatient as I am! I avoid lines wherever I can. I look for the shortest line at the store. If I’m enjoying an afternoon at the coffee shop and need a snack, I stay at my table and keep myself busy until the line dissipates. If I am going somewhere and expect to be waiting more than five minutes, I take my knitting with me. (And if I forget my knitting, I’m on my phone.) I can’t stand wasting time by not being busy. It’s hard to see how waiting could ever prove a blessing, particularly when one is in the middle of that waiting.
          The faith communities to which James wrote were in a far more serious situation than the examples I shared from my own life. They were a minority religious community who was misunderstood and mistrusted. They faced pressure to conform to the surrounding culture. Like the people of Israel in the Old Testament, they were waiting for freedom. James understood this and sought to encourage his hearers. Patience through waiting, like the farmer’s waiting for his crops, doesn’t promise to always bear fruit – but sometimes, by the grace of God, it does.
This season of Advent involves waiting, too. The weeks leading up to Christmas are different for every family. I imagine Mary and Joseph during the last weeks of waiting for Jesus’ birth. I imagine they felt both excitement and apprehension, looking forward to the future and yet wondering what that future would hold. Families with small children experience excitement and impatience. When can we open the next chocolate square on the Advent calendar? Is Santa coming yet? Families who have lost a loved one experience sorrow at that which was but is no more. Whether the loss was recent or long ago – as it was for my grandmother – matters not. The love we hold for those who have died remains with us, though their presence does not.

No matter where life takes us or what life brings us, we all experience thirst, and waiting to have that thirst quenched. The people of ancient Israel – and the ancient church – waited for freedom. The broken wait for healing. Christmas shoppers wait in line. We wait for in hope, knowing one day we will be reunited with loved ones gone before. No matter what we wait for, or how thirsty our parched souls, God, our Immanuel, is with us. The God of the thirsty ground is with us always. 
Source:
Felder, Cain Hope. The Letter of James in the New Oxford Annotated Bible: New Revised Standard Version. Oxford University Press: New York, NY, 2001.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Gnomie's Move-In Trauma...Repeated!

Well, here we are at the end of another year, and only one more to go. Gnomie is not looking forward to the chaos of another move. Neither am I. However...


we are grateful for the opportunity to have lived on this campus in this city, and to have attended Virginia Theological Seminary. We look forward to this summer's opportunities!

Disclaimer: The above photograph was taken at the beginning of the school year, and in no way reflects current circumstances which are, naturally, much more organized. Ahem.


Sunday, April 3, 2016

Sermon for Easter 1 of Year C, 2016



The (NRSV) text for this sermon can be found here. Even if you have read it before, I encourage you to read it again. Perhaps God wants to tell you something new about or through it!

Jesus said to them again, "'Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.'" John 20:21


      May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, Eternal God, Holy One.

     Today’s Gospel lesson contains the story of Jesus’ second and third post-resurrection appearances as documented by the Gospel of John. The third appearance is also the story of how Thomas earned the nickname doubting. I invite you to join me in dialoging with the story. What questions come from it? Which questions can it answer, and which remain unanswered? Was Thomas as faithless as tradition portrays him? Should we take a warning from his lack of acceptance? Or is there another, better lens through which to understand the story?

     As I read and re-read this story over the past few days, I discovered there are a number of possibilities not evident from the text. The first is who was present, which I believe influenced the participants’ reaction to the event. In the writing of this time, women and children were generally excluded from descriptions and counts of groups. Since here the term “disciples” rather than “apostles” is used, I conclude that women as well as men were present, perhaps even families with children. Another question is why: for what reason are the disciples locked in this room, away from the rest of the community? The text states they are fearful of the Jews. I want to be clear that throughout this Gospel, this refers not to Judaism as a whole but to the leadership of the Jewish community in Jerusalem at this time, during the first century.[i]  This leadership, in collusion with their Roman overlords, was responsible for crucifying the disciples’ Rabbi and Lord. Of course the disciples in today's story were fearful; what was to say they would not be next? Their fear was real and justified. The fact that the group hid together in close quarters also begs the questions: Why was Thomas absent? Where had he gone? Was he the only one brave enough to venture out to gather needed supplies? Had he drawn the short straw that day, taking his turn procuring the group’s needs? By default of his being absent from the group’s safe haven, Thomas was excluded from the experience of the rest of the disciples. He was about to be surprised by an experience uniquely his own.

            Based on the newness of what God did in the Resurrection of Jesus, reactions of shock and disbelief from those who first experienced it should come as no surprise. We’ve heard the story so many times, we assume the ending is a given. It was not so for those who first lived it. Doubt is found to some degree, from various participants, in all four of the Gospels.[ii] And isn’t it completely reasonable that such an unexpected surprise would lead to “paralyzing astonishment,”[iii] and the related reaction of doubt? While the text says the disciples accepted Jesus’ post-crucifixion appearance, I wonder how long it took them. As I read the story, I imagine a very pregnant pause and some hanging jaws. When Mary Magdalene encountered the resurrected Jesus near the tomb only a few days earlier (in the section immediately before today’s reading), John’s Gospel details how it took several moments for her mind to understand what her eyes saw. When she returned to the disciples with her tale, I doubt she was accepted at her word. Why should Thomas’ reaction show any less surprise, or be subject to the judgment that disbelief equals unfaithfulness?

     Was Thomas as faithless as tradition portrays him? Or should we understand his response as a normal human reaction, a part of his God-given intellectual capacity? I think God wants us to be gentle with Thomas just as God wants us to be gentle with ourselves. God did a new thing in the Resurrection of Christ, and continues to do new things in our lives today. In spite of the disciples surprise and doubts, they were commissioned by Christ. “Peace be with you!” He tells them. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” I believe this commission speaks to us today just as it spoke to the disciples two thousand years ago. We are each called as a whole person – doubts and all – to be engaged in a relationship with the Living God and to serve those around us.

Bibliography
Hendricks, Jr., Obery M. The Gospel According to John in the New Oxford Annotated Bible: New Revised Standard Version. Oxford University Press: New York, NY, 2001.
Most, Glenn W. Doubting Thomas. Harvard University Press: Cambridge, Massachusetts, 2007.




End Notes
[i] Obery M. Hendricks, Jr. p 180NT
[ii] Glenn W. Most. Chapter entitled Before Thomas: the Synoptic Gospels in Doubting Thomas.
[iii] Ibid, p 21-22.

Friday, March 25, 2016

Sermon for Good Friday of Year C, 2016

The text for this sermon was the Passion Gospel found in John. You can read the full text of the Gospel here.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable to you, O Christ, our God and our Redeemer.

At the end of today’s gospel, we are left with an empty cross. To those who first lived the Jesus story, this was its horrible climax. Their Rabbi, their Lord, their promise of a future filled with hope, was executed by their Roman overlords. Hope was destroyed with the death of their leader and teacher. With Jesus’ end, everything was finished. Or so it seemed.

As I was preparing for this sermon, I found myself thinking about symbols of faith. One of those symbols is the cross, which remains an essential symbol of our faith. Without it and its brutal suffering, the empty tomb would not have been possible. Yet it is not the only symbol of faith. There is the bread which we shared yesterday evening, a commemoration and a celebration of the bread which Jesus shared with His disciples. You can probably think of other symbols of faith important to you.

Another symbol which comes to my mind is that of stone – not that of the tomb, but that found in the Garden of Gethsemane. You may recall that in January I spent two weeks in the Holy Land. One of the sites we visited was the church commemorating Gethsemane. We don’t know whether it is the exact place where Jesus and his disciples waited in what would become the last night of His earthly life. But we do know, based on the geography of Scripture, that it was somewhere in the immediate vicinity. It is situated in a valley which looks up to the Temple Mount and the surrounding city of Jerusalem. Behind it is a steep hill. Today that hill is covered with Jewish graves, some of which were there in Jesus’ day and centuries before. He had only to walk up the hill and out of town to safety. He probably had a good idea of what was coming. The Romans used crucifixion not only as a punishment, but as a deterrent, hanging the dying along well-used public roads for all to see. Like other prophets before Him, He followed the call to question the powers-that-be in His community. He knew from His Scriptural heritage it had not ended well for those prophets, either.

At the front of the church at the Garden of Gethsemane, at the foot of the altar, is a large stone. Pilgrims swarm near, to kneel and touch it. It is expansive, flat and cool. It has been smoothed along the edges, shining from the touch of generations of pilgrims. As I knelt among the swarm, I felt quiet in spite of them. I imagined Jesus lying on the cool stone, praying that the worst may be withheld. Though is disciples are nearby, they are asleep and unaware. Jesus is alone, perhaps more alone than he has ever been. He could have risen and walked up the hill. Instead, he stayed.

That stone has become, for me, a symbol of faith.

Yesterday, Jesus celebrated with his friends. Today, we are left with an empty cross. With Jesus’ end, everything was finished. Or so it seemed…until God had the last word.