Repeated Wisdom

 

Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

 

This sermon was preached on the 13^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 15B) at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the sermon may be found here. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following: 

 

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58

 

Me: Knock knock. 

 

Congregation: Who’s there?

 

Me: Banana.

 

Congregation: Banana who?

 

Me: Knock knock.

 

Congregation: Who’s there?

 

Me: Banana.

 

Congregation: Banana who?

 

Me: Knock knock.

 

Congregation: Who’s there?

 

Me: Banana. 

 

Congregation: Banana who?

 

Me: Knock knock. 

 

Congregation: Who’s there?

 

Me: Orange.

 

Congregation: Orange who?

 

Me: Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

 

[Everyone laughs… okay not really.]

 

That is my favorite joke. And, it’s terrible, I know. I’ve loved it for longer than I can remember. Its humor comes from—okay it’s not really funny—but, if it were funny it would be funny because of its repetition. We may think the same thing about the Gospel lessons we’ve heard over the last few weeks. It is funny—but not really funny—because Jesus keeps repeating the same thing over and over again. But why? 

 

Why does Jesus keep talking about bread? We have heard for the past four weeks (including today) that Jesus is the Bread of Life, the Bread of Heaven, the Bread that will feed the World. So why must we keep hearing this again and again? Why does Jesus keep overwhelming us with more and more difficult passages about him and bread? 

 

I can think of three reasons why someone would repeat oneself over and over and over again. First, because one’s audience was not listening—What? Second, because one’s audience did not get it—Huh? And third, because one’s audience needed desperately to hear it—it was just that important. Fittingly enough, I believe this passage points to all three of these being true. Jesus said these things because the people were not listening, they did not get it, and what he was saying was too important not to repeat. Let’s look at these three more deeply.

 

1. Audience Not Listening

 

When I was a kid, I did not listen well. My first response when someone spoke to me quite often was the question “What?” At times, I struggled to pay attention. Recently, I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), so my short attention span, which led me to distraction makes more sense. Similarly, those in Jesus’ day were distracted—they were not listening to what Jesus said. We can even see this in the way that Jesus and the religious folk spoke to each other. 

Previously in the Sixth Chapter of John, allusions were made to the story of God feeding the Israelites in the wilderness with manna—bread from heaven. In that story, the people grumbled to Moses and God for flesh. Their words were give us the flesh. This is almost exactly what the people said to Jesus in today’s Gospel. We read it as “his flesh” but that was not what they said—our translation makes an interpretive change from “the” to “his.” Read this way it would say, “How can this man give us the flesh to eat?” To me, this changes how I hear the crowd’s words. Jesus was talking about his flesh feeding them. The people were not listening though, but why? 

 

Those people who had been following Jesus around throughout this chapter had been fed with actual bread from Jesus. Imagine how good that bread was! If you were here during the Celebration of New Ministry, we used a communion bread recipe from All Saints’ Chapel in Sewanee. That bread tastes so good! I previously served at a church that used this recipe too. One time, we ran out of the communion bread. So, I handed one of the children a wafer. He promptly threw it back at me and told me that Jesus did not eat chips! 

 

Back in our Gospel lesson, those who followed Jesus around were deliciously fed by him. They ate bread from heaven and they wanted more. Some though were not listening for something more—they just wanted something to eat. And, even those who were intentionally listening—those who weren’t just looking for something to eat—might not have really understood what Jesus was saying to them.

 

2. Audience Not Understanding

 

Jesus said what he said over and over and over again in part because his listeners may have struggled with what he meant. Even with 2,000 years to process this, the Church still struggles with extracting the true meaning of this passage. What Jesus said could be construed in different ways. As we realized last week, Jesus did not want us to be cannibals, but his words really do point to a physical reality. When he said he was giving his flesh for the life of the world he signified to those listening that something big was about to happen.

 

Soon enough in Jerusalem, Jesus would be betrayed, persecuted, tortured, crucified, and killed. Jesus really did give up his flesh. Still there was more than one layer to what Jesus said. Hence, why it was hard and is still hard to understand what Jesus said—and why Jesus had to build up this teaching slowly. Yes, there was this layer of what was actually happening, but what about all the references to bread and eating this bread, his flesh? To eat his flesh and to drink his blood as bread and wine certainly refers to Holy Communion, but as we gather at Table with God, another mystical dimension opens. The Great Thanksgiving encompasses the physical, the metaphorical, the spiritual, and even what is beyond our comprehending. In Holy Communion, we encounter God so profoundly that we, at least in this Church, believe it’s important enough to participate in this celebration each and every week.

 

3. Audience Needed To Hear It Repeatedly

 

This truth, this reality of Divine Communion—of eating the Bread of Heaven, this reality was so important that Jesus said it over and over and over again, which is that third reason why he repeated himself. As Jesus continued speaking about bread, he made a significant connection tying together believing and eating. Those who believe will eat and those who eat will have eternal life through their believing. This refers to the reality of sacramental grace that happens at the altar rail, but it also can and maybe does happen at all times and in all places. For believing is not only about eating, it is also about consuming. It matters what we consume and also what consumes us. 

 

What do we consume? What do you consume? Not just what do you eat, although that is interesting enough to think about, but what do you do with your time, talent, and treasure? This is not simply a rhetorical question, I don’t always give homework in sermons, but this week I am. 

 

Homework

I want you to think about what you consume/what consumes you this week by taking part in three practices: 1. Look at your financial accounts. What do you consume with that money? When you get a paycheck does the first dollar go to God’s work or to what you want? 2. Look at how you spend your time. How much time does God get? When does that happen? Is it first thing in the morning? Is it just some leftover time here and there when you think about it? 3. Look at what activities, tasks, or events give you the most energy and which ones drain you the most. Not always but often the things that give us the most energy are areas where we have talent and when directed towards God’s work in this world it can be powerful and exceedingly joyful. Those areas are where we find our purpose and where we find our calling. You might find some fit for your calling on September 8th at this year’s Ministry Fair.

 

When you look at your life in these areas you might just see what you consume with your money, your time, and your energy. But, what consumes you? Often we think that heaven or the Kingdom of God are realities that await us when we “awake” on the other side of the grave; however, I don’t think that is the important thing that Jesus came to tell us. When the Body and Blood of Christ consume us—not just the other way around—then we realize that our entire lives—all our treasure, our time, and our talent—can be utilized for the building up of God’s Reign here on earth. When we are consumed by Christ, then everything works towards God’s purposes. 

 

Conclusion

Each of us is called into the ministry of Christ. We are all called to be members in His Body. All our stories fit into the Story of God’s Love—the sharing of the Good News of Christ. And to be more a part of all of this, God is calling us to be enveloped in Christ, consumed by the Body and Blood of Christ. 

 

We hear Jesus repeating his wisdom over and over and over again because we might not be listening at first, and because we might not get it all at once, and mostly because what we are hearing is so important. What we believe matters. And what we believe can best be seen not in what we say we believe, but in looking at what we eat, what we consume. What do you consume? What consumes you? May it always be the Body and Blood of Christ. Amen.  

What Do You Believe?

A beloved Farside cartoon by Whyatt Cartoons

 

August 11, 2024—The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 14

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51

 

© 2021-2024 Seth Olson

This sermon was preached at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of this sermon may be found here.

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

Perhaps you have seen the signs when driving along the interstate. No, not the Alexander Shunnarah ones. In bold text, an even bolder question, “If you died tonight, where would you go? Heaven or Hell?!!!” When I see such billboards, I lose my temper—I wonder, how can someone short-change the message of God’s love in this way? Reducing the beauty, the complexity, and the immensity of Jesus’ Way of Love into an either-or question leaves me feeling angry. 

Memories from my youth emerge: Walking through southside Birmingham and seeing well-meaning Christians wrapped in fear trying to scare others into believing. Their shouts of “Have you been saved?” or “Do you believe?” crackling from a cheap bullhorn. 

These questions remind me of a Far Side Cartoon. In it two clean-cut, white men dressed in khakis, short-sleeved button up shirts, and ties are standing at a woman’s front door. They ask her, “Have you found Jesus?” In the living room of the home barely visible are Jesus’ sandal-clad feet, hiding behind a curtain for a big picture window. Friends, if you recall nothing else from today’s sermon remember that Jesus isn’t playing hide-and-seek trying to evade you—and a perfectly acceptable response to “When were you saved?” is 2,000 years ago on Calvary when God in Christ fully revealed that nothing separates us from God’s love—not sin, not death, not nothing! (Sorry for the bad grammar) 

All the fear-based yelling of Christians into megaphones has caused a great mess within our society. Or, maybe their shouting has merely revealed the disorder—we are collectively struggling over what to believe. And, belief and believe have become such overburdened words that we may be confused about what it means to believe.

For many of our friends in other parts of the Church belief simply means to give ascent to something—to check off a certain list of criteria about God and ourselves. For many believing means to think the way others do, the way the pastor says to think, or to accept things in the right way as to avoid Hell. Sure, this is what believing means to some, but what did Jesus mean when using this word? What was the Head of Our Church saying when he articulated that believing leads to eternal life?

This morning, we heard Jesus in the continuation of a larger story from John’s Gospel account. The “Bread of Life Discourse” as some refer to it. (Are you sick of bread yet? Got any Gluten-free believers now?) In this conversation, Jesus described himself as the Bread of Life and the Bread of Heaven—using the Hebrew story of the manna from above to elaborate on what he came to do in the world. When Jesus said, “I am the bread of life” this was the first “I am” statement in this Gospel account. He would later state, I am the Light of the World; the Gate; the Good Shepherd; the Resurrection and the Life; the Way, the Truth, and the Life; and the Vine. But if we are to walk in love and into eternity with Jesus, do we have to believe Jesus literally? Was Jesus really bread or a vine? Is that believing?

You may be shocked to hear this, but Jesus was not a grape vine nor a bread loaf. When we go to the altar rail we are not participating in gruesome cannibalism. Jesus spoke in expansive language with many layers. When we meet him in Communion, we do truly take hold of Christ, but there is more happening than we will ever know, or we can even imagine. And so, we cannot take in all that is going on up here at God’s Table. Of course, it is easier to take hold of what is happening together. 

When we gather as a church community, we sometimes say that we are re-membering the Body of Christ. We are putting Christ’s Body back together—sorry, Humpty Dumpty. It’s crazy, but we are constituting the Body of Christ right now. And, at the same time the words that we hear as we stretch out our hands at the altar rail are “The Body of Christ.” You all—the Body of Christ—are meeting the Body of Christ during Communion. Talk about “You are what you eat!” And, there’s even more to this whole believing thing.

 

This is the way, Thomas Merton, the great mystic from Kentucky put it: 

 

The deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept. Not that we discover a new unity. We discover an older unity. My dear brothers [and sisters], we are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.[1]

 

We have to be the Body of Christ—that we already are! I can believe that.

There’s a hymn about this sort of believing. Foster Bailey, the organist at St. John’s, Decatur, often would ask me what my favorite hymn was. The richness of our hymnody is often too much for me to narrow it down to just one, so I would change my answer constantly. Usually whatever I would tell him, would make him roll his eyes. Today, my favorite hymn might just be “The Church’s One Foundation.” For in the last stanza we sing, “Yet she [the Church] on earth hath union with God the Three in One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won; O happy ones and holy! Lord give us grace that we, like them, the meek and lowly, on high may dwell with thee.” 

I can’t help but get misty eyed when I sing those words. I know that there are those who have joined the great cloud of witnesses who still commune with us. This isn’t a ghost story either, so do not allow the fear from other parts of society soak into us too. The bullhorn shouting about going to heaven or hell distracts us from hearing Christ Jesus reassuring us, “I will raise them up on the last day.” We miss this as we worry: “Do I get to be part of the exclusive club? What if I believe in the wrong way? What if I mess this whole thing up?” We fret about what Jesus said when he talked about belief, but what he meant was not doing a certain set of things or thinking a particular way or consenting to what the preacher tells you to do. Jesus pointed to the non-permanent nature of the manna in the wilderness to drive home the truth of believing. 

To believe—to really eat the bread of life, to be transformed by what happens in mystic sweet communion—to believe is to trust God. To walk in love means to follow Jesus’ example in giving over our whole lives to the Creator of the Universe to be blessed and transformed. This is actually harder than checking off a few things a preacher says to do. That was the case with Israelites. 

Way back when, manna was not the problem. The trouble was that those who were in the desert with Moses did not trust God. They grumbled. They pleaded for more than just the bread that was keeping them alive. And, I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but I often do the same.

When problems arise, I doubt. Which is a natural response and appropriate! God still believes in me, even when I don’t believe in God. But, when I forget, when we forget our true identities as God’s beloveds, that God is holding us up, and that God is with us (all of us, at all times, and in all places)—when we forget this, we can easily turn our religion into a weapon. 

When we disconnect from the truth that we are all God’s beloved children, we can wield Christianity as a sword to beat away disbelief or more troublingly unbelievers. This was not the way Jesus walked. This was not what Jesus meant by believing. And this is not what keeps us in eternal life. 

Jesus showed us a way that was and is different. He did not encourage people to think in only one way, so that they could eat bread that would never get moldy. No, he showed us a more important bread through which we might recover our original unity with God. Jesus showed us the way into eternal life. It is not through accenting to what a fear-filled preacher says, so that you can think that your group is better than others. Instead, we are called into a radical practice of trusting that God’s love for us and for all is infinite. It is eternally expansive and completely comprehensive. God’s love has even dissolved the sting of death. And, as crazy as this sounds with an election in 85 days, God’s love has the power to make us one.

We are called to trust God. That is believing. When we eat the bread of belief, we remember that we are already part of the Body of Christ. What we must be is what we already are.

What do you believe?

---

[1] Thomas Merton, The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton, https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/7711632-the-deepest-level-of-communication-is-not-communication-but-communion. 

Do You Believe?

If this is how you have heard Christians talk about belief, please read this.

This sermon was preached at St. John's Church, Decatur, AL on the 12th Sunday after Pentecost. The readings that inspired this message were the following: 
2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51

A few times when my family walked through Southside Birmingham, near the church of my childhood and youth, something disconcerting happened. Like so many other Southern towns there were sign-wavers there. The type of Christians that would yell things aggressively at passers-by. “If you died tonight, where would you go? Heaven or Hell?!!!” Occasionally the prostylizer would act more cordially wondering, “Has your soul been saved?” or my favorite, “Do you believe?”

At the time I was not quick-witted enough to answer with any bit of snark or sarcasm. Now though as I have seen the damage that this fear-based version of Christianity is causing the world I might respond in another way. If asked “Do you believe?” I might just answer by quoting a sign from my grandfather’s kitchen. “A man’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another drink.”

With all joking aside, I think the yelling of Christians on bullhorns has caused a great epidemic in our society. Or, maybe their yelling is merely a symptom of larger disease. Belief has become such an empty word that many wonder, “Does it mean anything at all?” For many of our friends in other parts of the Church belief simply means to give ascent to something—to check off a certain list of criteria about God and ourselves. For many believing means to think the way others do, the way the pastor says to think, or to think the right way as to avoid Hell. Sure, this is what believing means to some, but how did Jesus use that word? What did Jesus mean when he said that believing leads to eternal life?

This morning we heard the continuation of a larger story from John’s Gospel account. The “Bread of Life Discourse” as some refer to it. And, in it Jesus described himself as the Bread of Life and the Bread of Heaven—using the Hebrew story of the manna from heaven to elaborate on what he came to do in the world. When Jesus said, “I am the bread of life” this was the first “I Am” statement in this Gospel account. He would later say I am the Light of the World; the Gate; the Good Shepherd; the Resurrection and the Life; the Way, the Truth, and the Life; and the Vine. But if we are to walk into eternity with Jesus, do we have to believe that Jesus was literally saying what he meant? Was Jesus really bread or a vine?

You may be shocked to hear this, but when we go to the altar rail we are not participating in cannibalism. Jesus spoke in expansive language with many layers. When we meet him in Communion there is more happening than we will ever know or we can even imagine. And so, often we miss parts of what’s going on there.

When we come together as a community we sometimes say that we are re-membering, as in putting back together, the Body of Christ. We are constituting the Body of Christ right now. And, at the same time the words that we hear as we stretch out our hands at the altar rail are “The Body of Christ.” The Body of Christ is meeting the Body of Christ during Communion. Talk about “You are what you eat!” There’s even more though to this whole believing thing.

Foster sometimes asks me what my favorite hymn is. There’s too many for me to narrow it down, so I change constantly. Usually whatever I say he scoffs at it. Today though it might just be “The Church’s One Foundation.” The last stanza refers to the sort of strange Body of Christ meeting Body of Christ nature that is happening during Communion. “Yet she [the Church] on earth hath union with God the Three in One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won; O happy ones and holy! Lord give us grace that we, like them, the meek and lowly, on high may dwell with thee.” I can’t help but get misty eyed when I sing those words, for I know and we know that there are those who have joined the great cloud of witnesses who still commune with us. But, is that what Jesus meant by believing and entering into eternal life? Do we just think that we will float around invisible during Communion? Sounds scary.

And, if we are not careful we will let all the fear from other parts of society and the Church soak into us too. We somehow miss Jesus saying, “I will raise them up on the last day,” and focus instead on who the Father is calling to dwell with him. Is it me? Do I get to be part of the exclusive club? What if I believe in the wrong way? We worry about what Jesus said when he talked about belief, but what he meant was not doing a certain set of things or thinking a certain way. Jesus pointed to the non-permanent nature of the manna in the wilderness to drive home the truth of believing.

To believe—to really eat the bread of life so to speak, to be transformed by what happens in mystic sweet communion—to believe is to trust in God. To give over our lives to the Creator of the Universe. See manna was not the problem. The trouble was that those who were in the desert with Moses did not trust God. They grumbled. They pleaded for more than just the bread that was keeping them alive. And, sadly we can do the same thing in our own lives.

When problems arise, we doubt. And that is okay because God still believes in us, even when we don’t believe in God. But, when we do not really know that God has us, that God is with us, that God is holding us up we tend to turn our religion into a weapon. When we start to disconnect from God we wield Christianity as a sword to beat disbelief or the unbelievers away. This is not what Jesus was calling us into when he spoke of believing. This is not what leads to eternal life.

Jesus showed us a way that was different. He was not talking about thinking a certain way so we can eat bread that would never get moldy. No, he was showing us the way through which we might trust God completely. Jesus showed us the way to forever, to eternity. It is not through accenting to what a fear-filled preacher says so that you can think that your group is better than others. Instead, we are called into a radical practice of trusting that God’s love for us and for all is infinite. It never dies. It never fades. It is eternal. In truth, Jesus showed us that God’s love has the power to even defeat death.

We are called to trust God. That is believing. When we trust in God as Jesus showed us we realize that we are part of the house of God dwelling there now and forever. Do you believe?

Trust: The Wisdom of Infants

“I thank you Father for you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants” Luke 10:21. (This sermon is based on Luke 10:17-24.)

I spent last week with two two-year-olds. They are not infants, but this message from Jesus is not lost on me after attempting to corral my twin nephews for a week at Disney World. They did not have a care in the world, and yet, everything they needed was provided for them.

My family and I were busily attempting to plan out the best way to spend each day, where we would eat, what rides we would go on, and when we would attend what shows. The twins and even their older sister were able to avoid all of the minutiae of plotting everything out, and somehow enjoy everything even more than I did (if that is possible). How did this happen? They trusted!

We are missing the beginning of the story in today’s good news. Jesus sent out 70 (or 72) of his disciples like lambs to the slaughter without purse, without bag, and without any spare underwear. Try doing that at Disney World! And yet, not only did everything go well. The disciples (all seventy of them) not only came back without blemish, but they also came back having casted out demons and not even needing an extra tunic to accomplish it.

The thought of not going even on vacation with an overnight bag and all my things makes me go a little crazy. I can make even simple trips way too complicated! As I observe my tendency to always be prepared, I notice that I like to be in control. Putting myself in control means so often that I miss opportunities to trust God and to trust my neighbors. We all have probably heard it said, “If you want to hear God laugh tell God your plans.” Somehow though I, and maybe you too, still manage to try and plan out everything according to my own will.

The story of sending out the pairs of disciples provides the perfect opening for us control freaks to wonder what it might look like not to rely so much upon what we think is best, but instead to expect that the Holy Spirit and our neighbors will provide care for us. My nephews did not worry about what they would eat or what they would drink or what they would wear. They believed in those around them to provide. What if we did like the disciples and like infants?

Sometimes we hear sensationalist stories of gunfights, riots, murders, and disasters on the news. These reports create a fear-filled perception of the world. We may think that it is best to stay in our own little bubble. Maybe this is true. On some level the newscasters base their accounts in reality. Bad things do in fact happen in our world. Jesus even acknowledged as much when he sent out his disciples in Matthew’s account of this story, “See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” And yet, what happens when we no longer rely upon those around us?

Trusting God and trusting our neighbor cannot just happen. We must remember this ability to believe in others with which we were born. Sometimes though this is difficult. Perhaps what we need is the opportunity to build up this “trust muscle” within us like we any other part of ourselves. One does not hop off a couch and run a marathon, nor does one hop on stage and perform on Broadway, and no one makes a career out of something one has never studied. The same is true of our ability to trust. So what are we to do?

The Church at its best can be that place to try out trusting others. Churches are not perfect, for they are made up of imperfect people; however, my hope remains that we can practice trusting in one another here at St. John’s. When Jesus sent out the seventy they stayed in strangers’ homes, they ate what was provided, they healed others, and all of this showed their ability to let go of the details, the planning, and the control. Instead, they trusted in God and their fellow human. Let us too practice believing in one another. Be like infants who do not worry, but trust!

ASCEND!

This blog post is based on this reading from Luke, not the above picture (from a Scandinavian website)

I have a hard to explaining the Ascension to other people. Our rationally based culture makes it hard for me to just say, "Come on it's in the BIBLE!" To see just how poorly the Ascension is viewed in contemporary culture, just look at the popular TV series The Office. In a great episode entitled "Secret Santa," Michael Scott, says to his employees, “His last name is Christ, He has the power of flight,” alluding to Jesus’s last day on earth. If we attempt to be rational Christians we have a hard time holding at the same time a belief in scientific laws, like the Law of Gravity, and a belief in Jesus’ miracles, like flying away from his disciples.

Yet, to read a sacred text, like the Bible, with only a literal lens limits the spiritual impact that any story can have upon us. This is not to say suspend all questions, but rather to suggest that the story of the Ascension is more than a precursor to the Superman comic strip. Our gospel text from today possesses a powerful piece of our understanding of God and our relationship with God, and yet we are left with questions. What happens after Jesus is raised from the dead? He cannot die again, so does he just sit around until the end of the age? Can he fly? Where did he go? I do not have sufficient answers to these questions, yet I feel in the wake of the Ascension that I am floating in the Truth. He who has been raised from the dead will never die again, he who has been raised from the dead continues to bless us, and he who has been raised from the dead has returned to the Father. Yet it is even more encompassing than this. Let me tell you another version of the Ascension from our sisters and brothers in the Eastern Orthodox Church.

In the countryside of Bethany, a boy was walking his dog, Spot. Well, the dog’s full name was Spoticus, a slight jab at the Roman occupiers of his day, but the boy just called him Spot in public. As the boy and his dog walked along the countryside the boy saw in the distance a small crowd gathered. They were raising a bit of a raucous, so the boy went to investigate it further. He approached with caution, and soon discovered it was Jesus and his followers.

The boy had heard of Jesus from some people in his town. Martha, Mary, and the once dead Lazarus told stories about this powerful, healing, teaching prophet. Recently, they even said he was more than a prophet. The boy overheard his parents arguing about whether Jesus was the Son of God, the Messiah. “He died and returned from the dead,” his mother said in a hushed voice, but his father cut her off as the boy entered the room. So more curious than usual the boy walked closer to hear Jesus speaking to his followers, but he could not understand what the teacher was saying.

This crowd grew closer together as Jesus raised his arms up into the air. Jesus then began blessing them with tears washing down his face. As he was blessing them he withdrew from them and he was being carried up into heaven. Yet, at that moment something strange happened. One man looked around at the others in the crowd, then he wrapped his arms around Jesus’ ankles. Fellow disciples began shouting, “Peter, what are you doing?”

Peter looked up at Jesus, then he said, “Jesus where you go, I must go also.” Jesus, almost surprised by this action, gave Peter a look, as if to say, “Please let go,” but Peter did not get the message. Then, Jesus looked up to Heaven, saying, “Father, what shall I do?” A voice from on high spoke, “ASCEND!”

At that moment, two men began jostling for position. The similar shape of their faces made it seem to the boy that the two were brothers. As they were pushing each other, one grabbed onto Peter’s ankles, the other shouted, “John, I am supposed to go first, not you.” John replied, “James, I am the greatest.” James and John jockeyed for position, then others hopped onto the chain. Before too long it was a long link of disciples. Martha, Mary, and a limping Lazarus connected to this heaven bound train. Jesus kept asking the Father what he was to do, and the Father each time replied with the same word, “Ascend!”

All the while Spot and his boy were walking closer to this action. Spot was barking and the boy did his best to keep his jaw from dropping. After the crowd thinned out a little, the boy asked a woman if she was going to join this line. The woman, who was actually Mary Magdalene, calmly replied, “I think so, what about you?” Well, I have my dog.

Just then a man thought about jumping up to join the heaven bound procession, but then he looked doubtful that he could make the jump to reach Andrew’s ankles. “Thomas, you better hurry,” Mary spoke.

The boy tied up his dog to a nearby tree, hugged him goodbye, and he began to run and jump after Mary who was now leaving the earth behind her. Mary asked, “What about your dog?” The boy quickly questioned, “Can I bring him?” Jesus looked down, then up toward heaven, and the voice again shouted from on high, “Ascend!”

As Mary was pulling him off the ground the boy ran back toward the tree and with no time to untie the dog he grabbed Spot with one hand and held onto Mary’s foot with the other. The train began to pull out of the station with Jesus as the engine. His toes no longer touching earth, the boy left the ground, Spot was pulled up with him, the leash held the dog tightly to the tree, and for a moment it seemed like this holy chain would just dangle in the air. Then, all at once the ground shook and the earth quaked and this Jesus-led string of saints pulled the entirety of Creation from its hinges. Everything from the tree down (the roots, the dirt, the entire earth and all that was in it) stayed connected to that dog and that dog was held fast by that boy and the boy stayed attached to those disciples and those disciples stuck to Jesus and Jesus remained connected to God the Father, so that all of Creation was pulled into Heaven with the command from on high, “Ascend!”

Ascension is not a story about Jesus flying. It is not a story about magic or superpowers. This is the day that we celebrate that Jesus who overcame the power of death, will never die again, and that as he left Jesus was blessing his disciples. Jesus’ blessing never stopped in the story from Luke, and his blessings have never stopped since then. We are still being blessed by the Son who came down to live with us, to die for us, to raise us from the dead and to raise us with all Creation into Heaven. Ascension is a day when we remember that through Christ earth and Heaven are one. Now let us, like those disciples return to our lives with joy, let us bless God continually in our church, and let us wait patiently for the gift of God’s Spirit! In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

John 3:1-17: Nicodemus Couldn't Sleep

Sermon Audio click here!

Nicodemus couldn’t sleep again. The all too familiar feeling of anxiety ravaged through his stomach, like menacing butterflies the size of pterodactyls. His wife, Miriam, lay beside him in their king-size bed. She could sense his worry, and it made her worry too. As she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Nicodemus starred at the ceiling. The mortgage, the bills, the children’s education all added up. These problems alone though did not keep this religious leader from resting easy; no something else was the matter. By morning he had all the covers wrapped around him like some sort of cocoon of worry; yet for Nicodemus there was no metamorphosis, no change, and no growth. The only butterfly was in his gut.

Nicodemus arose before the sun, and standing in the pre-dawn glow he could see the dark circles around his eyes growing ever more visible in the mirror. Seeing Miriam resting peacefully in the reflection Nicodemus remembered the promises he made to her on their wedding night: trips to the Mediterranean, family vacations, and putting in his time early so they could enjoy their later years together. These hopes vanished as his focus returned to his rapidly aging face. Looking into his own eyes he recognized an emptiness.

Following every word of the Law, working harder than every other Pharisee, arriving earlier and leaving later, but still Nicodemus felt hollow. Like a wineskin with no wine within or an inn with no visitors, Nicodemus’ soul felt bare and vacant. Kissing Miriam and his children goodbye as the sun was rushing to crest the horizon, Nicodemus hurried to the Temple to lead the morning prayers. If he felt any peace embracing his two boys it disappeared as he left his home. His thoughts turned to the upcoming Passover festivities and the meeting of the Sanhedrin, the religious council, this morning.

The council dispatched with old business quickly, then an elder member of the council brought up an explosive, new topic. His calculating words cut through the stale air of the conference room, like a snake darting through withered grass, “What are we to do about this upstart teacher from Galilee? He is gaining followers, you know, disciples even! My sources tell me that he has even performed some mighty signs, turning water into wine at a wedding.”

Another voice emerged, “Where is he now?” The elder Pharisee replied, “Capernaum with his family.” Nicodemus, intrigued by the miraculous deeds and exhausted from his insomnia, forgot himself and excitedly piped up, “Do you think he will come to the Passover?” Before he could even finish his sentence, Nicodemus knew that the emotions worn on his decorated sleeve had given away his giddiness. In his desperation, Nicodemus secretly hoped he’d meet this itinerant miracle worker. The elder Pharisee looked down at Nicodemus and snarled. Another distinguished leader with long fringes and broad phylacteries interrogated, “Nicodemus, why does it matter if this man shows up? Why do you care?” A pragmatic voice cut off the questioning to get back to business, “This week, we need extra security at the Temple to prepare for this man… What is his name again?” The elder Pharisee replied disgustedly, “Jesus.”

Although Passover begins at sundown, Nicodemus left long before sunrise on the first day of the festivity. As he made his way to the Temple, he allowed himself a hopeful thought, “Maybe, just maybe, God will show me a sign today,” and in this brief moment the tension within him dissipated until he neared the Temple.

Suddenly, right as he entered the gates he heard shouting, then the crack of a whip, he ran to see what was happening. A rough looking man, was driving out the merchants selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. As the vendors scattered in all directions, the unkempt man flipped over their tables and spoke, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” Nicodemus wondered if this was the man, and a verse from Scripture arose, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” Other Pharisees just arriving began to question this man’s motives, but all Nicodemus wanted to know was “When can I meet him?”

Several Pharisees, seething at Jesus’ irreligious behavior and his disrespect for their Tradition, watched him carefully for a misstep. Nicodemus looked on with eager curiosity, hoping for another sign. Seeing Jesus heal a man blind since birth, Nicodemus made up his mind he would risk his status within the Sanhedrin so that he could meet with this Jesus.

The night the Passover was finishing, Nicodemus told his wife he was going to seek out this mighty healer, in hopes of a sign that might fill the emptiness within him. Miriam urged her husband to find healing. Then Nicodemus pulled up his cloak to hide his identity and hurried through the streets to the outskirts of Jerusalem.

Scouring the Sanhedrin’s intelligence network Nicodemus had discovered where Jesus was staying, and after waking a few neighbors in search of his exact location, Nicodemus met two of his disciples. Simon-Peter and Andrew, asleep in the outer room, groggily went to fetch their teacher. Jesus emerged silently from his sleeping quarters, lit a candle, poured some wine for his guest and asked if his guest was hungry.

Speechless, Nicodemus could not initially reply to the hospitality. Never, not once, in all the years of serving in the Temple had Nicodemus felt such a rush of spiritual energy. Jesus’ eyes beamed in the candlelight and Nicodemus could tell that when he looked at him Jesus was looking deep within his soul.

Anxiously, Nicodemus tried to cue up the questions that he had prepared, but he blabbered, “Teacher, uh… we know that you are a… uh teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these… eh, signs that you do apart from the presence of… um God.”
Before he could continue, Jesus swiftly replied, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Confused and wearied by his many sleepless nights, Nicodemus’ legal and literal mind churned out a logical question, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

Jesus wiped some sleep from his eyes, and attempted to broaden Nicodemus’ spiritual horizons, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Perplexed even more by this Nicodemus’ head was swimming in a vast ocean of questions, he clumsily reached for the life boat, “How can these things be?”

With a reassuring smile, Jesus replied, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet the Pharisees do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

Nicodemus still reeling from how one can be born of the Spirit, could barely keep up with Jesus now, it felt as though his mind was sprinting just to keep up with Jesus’ pace. The Pharisee wondered, “Am I just here to understand the signs? Who is this? How is one born again? Is this the Son of Man?” But in the midst of the swirling sea of inquiries, Nicodemus realized that something strange was happening. His heart felt alive and his spirit felt awake for the first time in weeks, months, maybe even years. Cutting through the questions, the literalism, and the legalism Jesus spoke words that forever rang in Nicodemus’ soul:

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Nicodemus emptied his cup of wine, his soul full for the first time in years, and as he left Jesus, the sun was rising.

John 11:33-54: These signs are written so that you may come to believe in Christ Jesus.

At the end of his gospel account, John summarizes his purpose writing, “These [signs] are written so that you may come to believe.”  What does it mean to believe? What does believing look like? Or, who does believing look like?

Today’s gospel reading, which I have expanded to include most of yesterday’s story of Mary and Lazarus depicts two of three members of a family from Bethany. Martha, Mary, and Lazarus might just be belief personified at least according to John.

Before what we heard this afternoon, Martha hears that Jesus is near and does not wait in her household, but seeks out Jesus in the streets. The subsequent conversation enlightens the characteristics of a believer in the face of life and death.  Martha greets Jesus simultaneously challenging him and illuminating her belief in him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” She longs to be reconnected with her brother, but thinks this will happen through the Resurrection on the last day. When Jesus makes a profound confession, “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” Martha is able to make a personal response looking Jesus in the eye and saying, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” Martha takes one form of a believer, and when we confidently go out to meet our Lord we like Martha personify belief in Christ.

Mary is called by her sister to go and find Jesus. She does not hesitate to respond to this calling, as she gets up quickly and goes to him. The interaction that Mary and Jesus have depicts another way of believing. She uses the same words as her sister’s to greet Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Instead of following up with confident words of belief, she weeps. Mary’s response is not a display of disbelief, rather it is a glimpse of the inner pain that accompanies death and loss. Jesus does not tell her that Lazarus is in a better place, nor does he attempt to take away her pain with a cliché phrase of false comfort, nor does he make a theological statement, instead Christ joins in the weeping. Mary walks with Jesus to her brothers tomb to continue in her grief process, not knowing what will happen next. Mary, displays another form of a believer and when we weep in grief, frustration, or anger we again personify belief, and Christ weeps with us.

Lazarus does not seek out Jesus in the same way as his sisters, rather Jesus seeks him out. This interaction displays another shape of believing. In this story we may focus upon Lazarus’ natural death, yet it is also about his emotional/spiritual disconnection from his friend Jesus at the time of death. Jesus calls out Lazarus from the darkness of his tomb, and any doubt in Jesus as the Messiah is overcome when Lazarus shakes off all disconnection and death to respond to this call. Jesus calls the community to unbind him. Lazarus is a believer like his sisters, and I believe even in our disconnection and spiritual death we too personify belief.

Many believed through Jesus’ raising of Lazarus from the dead, but the Pharisees, the religious elite of the day, worried that Jesus would cause a revolt that would bring the Roman Empire’s wrath upon them. The Chief priests and Pharisees did not want to shake the status quo, as life was comfortable to them. More Roman troops would diminish the power that they had, so Caiaphas, speaking as the high priest, offered to his fellow temple leaders a solution. Instead of letting the believers of this upstart “Messiah” gain too much momentum and fervor, let us have this one man killed instead of our whole nation. What Caiaphas did not realize in this statement that he was prophesying in the name of the Almighty God. The death of Christ would call all the disparate Children of God together as One Body to believe in the Son that God sent to earth. What does it mean to believe?

To believe is to run out to meet our God. To believe is to weep when we are grief stricken and to know that Jesus weeps with us. To believe is even to be spiritually dead and to allow for Christ to raise us and for our community to unbind us. To believe is to see that even through the fear of losing the status quo and the systematic sin that took Christ to the Cross God’s Will is accomplished. These signs are written so that you may come to believe in Christ Jesus.