This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday August 23, 2009, the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time.
1Kings 8:22-30, 41-43
Psalm 84
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Today is the end of our time with the sixth chapter of the book of John. We began with 5,000 men being fed bread and fish on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. After dinner, Jesus shares a little one-on-one time with some disciples while the twelve sail across the lake. Later in the evening, leaving everyone unaware, Jesus follows the boat using only his sandals and his very being to make his way across the water. The twelve were shocked and amazed to see Jesus water skiing without the benefit of a boat across the lake, and those who Jesus left on the other side were just as shocked and amazed because Jesus was gone and all of the boats were still there.
This is when Jesus begins teaching lessons about the true bread of eternal life; and many of these lessons are repeated and repeated again so that all may hear, so that all may know. Some of his words are hard truths, like when he told the people that they came to see him because he could fill their bellies with bread, not because he is the bread. Some of his words are offensive. Jesus uses the “I AM,” the holy name of God when referring to himself. Jesus teaches that we must eat his flesh and drink his blood. This freaks out the people who take this too literally. This really freaks out those who make the connection between drinking his blood and the Genesis 9 prohibition against consuming blood. Those who make the connection between blood and atonement found in Leviticus 14 are ready to rent their robes and cry “Blasphemy!”
So for those who were going along with the difficult teachings about flesh and blood, Jesus then tells the disciples that flesh is useless! It’s the Spirit that gives life. His words are spirit and life; as are his flesh and his blood. The twist is not that his flesh and blood are useless, it’s that our flesh and blood are. There is nothing we can do to create truth. There is nothing we can do to make good. There is nothing we can do to earn salvation. Our flesh is the source of nothing. By him all things are possible. Life is found in him, by him, and through him. Just as the living Father sent him and he lives because of the Father, so too we live because of him; because of his flesh and because of his spirit.
It’s all in a day’s work for the bread of life.
A missionary told how she was once describing the loving character of the Christians’ God to a company of her Chinese sisters. As she went on in her holy enthusiasm, picturing God’s real character as full of mercy to the sinful and the suffering, one of the Chinese women turned to her neighbor and said, “Haven’t I often told you there ought to be a God like that?”[1]
These women had obviously believed in what we would call other gods. I don’t know what these other gods were. We could speculate and consider and think ourselves more enlightened because we don’t believe in the same sort of god-play that they do. But to what end?
When I was a young man, I would go on walks with my father. He would tell stories and impart wisdom. One evening crossing Brush Creek in Kansas City he told me, “You know, I tell you these stories so that you don’t make the same mistakes I did.” I answered him, “Don’t worry, I’ll make my own.”
We can say we don’t make the same mistakes these Chinese women made, not knowing about the one true Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. No, we have other Gods.
One recent example of this sort of idol worship is a sense of security and protection emboldened by American power. In the third episode of the NBC drama “The West Wing,” the liberal democratic President Josiah Bartlett learns that his former chief physician, a naval officer, was killed going overseas to a new deployment. As the President laments this death he asks, “Did you know that two thousand years ago a Roman citizen could walk across the face of the known world free of the fear of molestation? He could walk across the earth unharmed, cloaked only in the words ‘Civis Romanis’ I am a Roman citizen. So great was the retribution of Rome, universally understood as certain, should any harm befall even one of its citizens.”[2]
Whether in ancient Rome, a fictional Washington D.C., or a real life Hometown, U.S.A.; this sentiment is not without appeal. When I heard that Abdel Baset al-Megrahi, the man responsible for killing 270 people, many of them Americans, in the bombing of Pan Am 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland was set free to die at home,[3] a choice he did not give his victims; I don’t wonder if “Civis Romanis” is American Imperialism. I’m thinking it’s a good idea.
This is the sort of thing we might expect to hear from a pundit on Fox News, not the liberal President Bartlett.
What we would expect from this fictional president, a character whose fictional opponent called him a weak, lily-livered, intellectual, elitist snob, is something more of what we knew as a nation in the 1970’s in the morass of post-Vietnam, post-Watergate, hyperinflationary times. This quicksand of indecision which was often coupled with a hand-wringing of guilt over national sins, some of which are older than the nation itself, was caused by actions and inactions which needed then and continue to need national atonement. Still, handwringing and being ashamed are not the acts of atonement scripture prescribes. I looked it up.
It’s easy to say that these are two different sins; one of vanity and the other inferiority. I see them as mirror images of the same sin, one of an overblown sense of self held over the blessings of the Lord God. In our oh so enlightened culture, we often think that there is something that we could do to make things better; something we can do with our power, or something we can do with our wealth, or something we can do with our intellect, where without God we can do nothing. Without God, we can do nothing.
We as individuals and as a nation must remember that Jesus offered everything he had to end the separation between God and God’s good creation. He offered his flesh and his blood, his human life so that we may know eternal life. He emptied himself of his Godly status to be fully human, flesh and blood, so that he may be exactly like we are, though without sin. The man who could have brought himself off of the cross and changed life as we know it through power and might stayed there unto death, changing life as we know it by the power of weakness and submission.
When we depend on our strength more than we rely upon the Lord, we look to a god who is not our God. When we allow our weaknesses to overwhelm us, we fall before a god who is not our God. Have we made the same mistake that the Chinese women made? Not really, in truth, we have made our own. This tension between divine action and human choice has been a theme of this chapter from John’s gospel, of the past month of Sundays.
This might be a hard teaching. It may cause some to turn away. It may even offend. Jesus knew this. He knew his teachings would divide families, he knew his teachings would cause separation. Not because of anything he does, on the contrary. God the Father sent Jesus so that all may come to know God not only as Spirit but as flesh and blood. By sending Jesus, God the Father grants us the ability that we may all come to the Lord. But Jesus knew that because of who we are, because of human choice, because of the freedom we have to love God and one another, because of who we are, Jesus knew his hard teaching would cause some to turn away.
In this case, more than five-thousand turned away, the five-thousand who came just for the bread that fills the belly. The twelve who came because Jesus is have the bread that fills the soul, the words of eternal life; they stayed because they knew Jesus was their last resort. They stayed because they had come to believe and know that Jesus is the Holy One of God.
Jesus knew they would stay, for a while; but in his perfection, he knew that we are not so perfect. Jesus knew Judas would betray him to the Roman Legions. Jesus even knew Peter, the speaker for the twelve, would deny him. Yet Jesus loved them. He loved them all. He loves them all.
Peter is held in this piece as the paragon of virtue. But we know better. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, we know Peter will draw a short sword and take the ear off of one of the slaves of the Pharisees. Peter will deny Christ just because he wanted to hear what was happening and keep warm. Some days we will act like Peter, professing and proclaiming the name of the Lord. And there are days when we abandon the Lord just to keep warm. Yet Jesus loves us. Jesus loves us all.
If you ever get the chance, the next time you are in Tulsa, go to the Great Harvest Bread Company store. Great Harvest is a maker of fine artisan breads and the smell alone is worth making the trip. The first time I went to Great Harvest was to the store in Colorado Springs. I walked into the store and was overwhelmed with the scent of the grains, yeast, spelt, berries and melting butter.
The most wonderful thing about going into the store is the free samples. They cut off a big hunk of bread, slather it with real butter—none of this margarine or “it’s not butter”—they slather it with real butter and hand it to you to taste that it is good. In line you find yuppie mothers with twin strollers, business people in high dollar suits, and homeless folks coming in from the weather. They don’t give you a tiny little spoonful of heavenly goodness like a Baskin-Robbins sample; they give you a thick slice of bread with butter.
It’s amazing; people come in as much for the experience and fellowship as they do for the filling of their bellies. This is a foretaste of the bread of life which fills our bodies and feeds our souls. Even more than great artisan bread, Jesus feeds us on every level. Jesus is the last bread we will ever want—not just for the physical fulfillment—but because once we experience God in Christ nothing else is the same.
Our flesh is useless; in his flesh is eternal life. As Jesus shares in our life we are to share in his so that we may live together in God’s peace and love. It is in his spirit that we have eternal life, life worth living.
It is this bread and this cup, his body and his blood that we share together at the table set by him so that we may be fed body and soul. It is by this bread and this cup that we are fed and strengthened to go into the world taking these hard lessons and the knowledge that there is no one and nothing else that compares to life in Christ.
It’s all in a day’s work for the bread of life.
[1] “Dome on the Range,” HomeliticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=93000158, retrieved August 13, 2006
[2] “The West Wing: A Proportional Response,” TV.com. http://www.tv.com/the-west-wing/a-proportional-response/episode/790/summary.html, retrieved August 22, 2009
[3] Lockerbie bomber freed, returns to cheers in Libya, http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090820/ap_on_re_eu/eu_britain_lockerbie, retrieved August 22, 2009.
Showing posts with label blood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blood. Show all posts
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday June 28, 2009, the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
2Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 30
2Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Jesus had again crossed in the boat to the other side. This crossing represents Jesus coming back from the gentile side of the sea back to the Hebrew towns. While on the other side of the world, Jesus exorcised the demons from the Gerasene man known as Legion. He was called that because the demons that dwelt within him were as many as a Roman Legion. Jesus sent the demons into a herd of swine who promptly rushed down a steep bank into the sea where they were drowned.
The no longer demon possessed man wanted to join Jesus and his disciples across the way. Jesus told the man instead to “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” The man almost follows Jesus instructions, but instead of telling the people how much the Lord has done and the great mercy God has shown, he “began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him.”
So between the wise teachings on the Jewish side, the miraculous journey across the sea, and the loosing of a legion of demons into 2,000 head of swine in gentile territory, Jesus had established a name. Of course a great crowd had gathered around him as he came ashore.
Jesus is met by Jairus, a leader of the synagogue, who came and when he saw Jesus he fell at his feet and begged and cried for the life of his daughter. It makes me wonder why Mark’s gospel chose to focus on this man. Let’s face it, the multitude came to Jesus as he made landfall. There must have been dozens who fell at his feet begging dozens of supplications, crying in agony for their personal harsh circumstance. Yet, Jesus chose to go with this one man and his one request.
I wonder why scripture focused on this one man and this one request, but this is an answer we will never truly know. This is a question on the order of the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. Still, we do know this much. The angels dance on the head of a pin for the glory of God. So too, Jesus chose to go with this synagogue leader for the glory of God; and that’s enough of a reason.
Along the way, we have this second story, the story of the hemorrhaging woman.
According to ancient tradition, this bleeding was menstrual, making her as unclean as the demon possessed swine who just took a header. Her access to conventional society could have been denied. Whether this still applied in first century Palestine is debated by scholars,[1] but for the reader, it was a sign that she was on her own in the wilderness of her own blood.
She is without social standing, she has no one on earth, but she believes; no, she knows that if she can even touch his clothes she will be healed. And she is. “Daughter,” Jesus says, “your faith has made you well.” Dozens were pressing in on Jesus. The crowd was crushing in on him as he walked. Still, the only one who was touched by the power of Jesus was the one who believed something would happen when she touched him, even if it was just his cloak.
Again, I always wondered a couple of things about this healing. Assuming the purity law still applied to menstruating women, how in the world she could be out in polite society, much less in a crowd where she would be pressed to scores of others? Add the intentional touch of a man’s cloak and she is violating enough taboo to shame a Hollywood celebutant.[2] So why this story, why this outcome? Why of all the people who were in contact with the Lord was she the one touched by the power of Jesus? The only proper answer is the answer given for why this man and his daughter. The answer to “why?” is for the glory of God. To God goes the glory for her faith in the healing power of Jesus has made her well.
The troupe continues to the home of Jairus the synagogue leader. While Jesus is still speaking to the woman the people came and said “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” For Jesus, there is no trouble. “Do not fear, only believe.”
It was faith that healed the woman; it was her faith in the power of Jesus that made her well. The crowd knows what happened. Jairus knows what happened. Now Jesus calls on the temple leader not to fear, but to believe.
When Jesus and Jairus along with Peter, James and John arrive, the wailing has begun. The cries of sorrow at the death of the child are ringing like a claxon. In a shocking turn; they laugh when Jesus tells them to stop making a commotion; “The girl sleeps, she is not dead.” He then shoos the people from the room, he takes the girl by the hand and says “Talitha cum.” Get up little girl; and she does.
The thread common to these two miraculous healing stories is faith; faith that Jesus our Lord is able to do all things. We are called to share that faith. We are called to trust the Lord our God. But as we do, as we have faith and as we trust; we are constantly reminded that there is pain in our world.
I am not going to regale you with stories of pain and strife, neither from ancient times nor from ours. By detailing one, we leave behind hundreds of others. On the news we see the strife and discord in Iran only to diminish the spotlight on the happenings in Iraq and Afghanistan. The brutality taking place in Darfur only ends up reducing attention to Tibetan independence from China, the plight of ethnic Albanians in the Czech Republic, and ethnic Turks in northern Iraq.
It is enough to know the simple fact that pain is real, strife is real; death and injustice are real. Yet we are called to know that Christ is victorious over pain, strife, death, and injustice. He experienced these very feelings, these very pains; unto death, death upon the cross. Still, we can take solace that in this horror, there is one place for us to rest. One of the places we see this in scripture is from our psalm reading, today’s Call to Worship.
Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD;
LORD, hear my voice;
let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
I wait for you, O LORD; my soul waits for you;
in your word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD,
more than sentries for the morning,
more than sentries for the morning.
The psalm reminds us that the depths of human brutality know not only no physical bounds, but are as old as time itself. In the grasp of human brutality, there is one alone to whom we can turn, so we are to call to the Lord who will hear the voices of our supplication. As David laments the death of Jonathan, as Jesus hears the cries of Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman, as Jesus hears our cries of desperation, as we wait on the Lord more than sentries for the morning; in times of pain, in times of suffering; there is no other place for us to rest than in the arms of the ever-loving Lord of life. It is in God alone that we wait. This is where we wait because in God alone, in Christ alone, is victory.
There is blood and there are tears in our gospel reading. It has toil and sweat too. It reminds me of a famous line in a speech made by Winston Churchill in his first address to the British House of Commons on May 13, 1940 after his election as Prime Minister. I want to share with you the end of this speech:
I would say to the House, as I said to those who've joined this government: “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.”
We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory. Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival. Let that be realised; no survival for the British Empire, no survival for all that the British Empire has stood for, no survival for the urge and impulse of the ages, that mankind will move forward towards its goal.[3]
Churchill asks, “What is our aim?” “What is our goal?” Victory, that is our aim. And in Christ alone is victory. In Christ, through the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our Lord; in Christ alone is victory. The war Churchill waged was fought by sea, land, and air with ships, planes, and men. The war we wage is fought with love, grace, and the Cross of Christ.
The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming of Jesus Christ have set the pattern for the church and its mission. His life connects him to creation, and creation to him. His service commits the church to work for every form of well-being. His suffering makes the church sensitive to all sufferings so that it sees the face of Christ in our faces in every kind of need. His crucifixion discloses to the church God's judgment on our inhumanity and the awful consequences of its own complicity in injustice. In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming the church sees the promise of God's renewal of man's life in society and of God's victory over all wrong.[4]
We are called to faith. We are called to trust in the Lord our God. In the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our lives we are called to remember the blood, toil, tears, and sweat Jesus knew in his. We should remember that as God incarnate he could have risen above it all. Being fully divine, he could have dashed away any hint of suffering and pain. But being fully human, there is no avoiding the suffering of humanity, suffering unto death. Through this death and resurrection, his victory, and ours, is assured.
Churchill’s speech ended with this coda:
But I take up my task with buoyancy and hope. I feel sure that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, and I say, “Come then, let us go forward together with our united strength.”[5]
We claim the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit as we are called to go forward together with our united strength, united for the glory of God Almighty by God’s grace, peace, and justice.
When Jesus called on Jairus to believe, the words were meant for him alone. Yet this message of “believe” is one that needed to be known to the apostles, the disciples, and all of the followers of Jesus in every time and place. Believe in Christ. Believe in Christ’s victory. Believe in the power of God to reconcile all of creation to God’s own self.
[1] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, page 1817
[2] A portmanteau of celebrity and debutant
[3] Churchill, Winston, Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat. http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Blood,_Toil,_Tears_and_Sweat, delivered May 13, 1940, retrieved June 21, 2009.
[4] Paraphrase from the Confession of 1967
[5] Ibid, Churchill
2Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 30
2Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Jesus had again crossed in the boat to the other side. This crossing represents Jesus coming back from the gentile side of the sea back to the Hebrew towns. While on the other side of the world, Jesus exorcised the demons from the Gerasene man known as Legion. He was called that because the demons that dwelt within him were as many as a Roman Legion. Jesus sent the demons into a herd of swine who promptly rushed down a steep bank into the sea where they were drowned.
The no longer demon possessed man wanted to join Jesus and his disciples across the way. Jesus told the man instead to “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” The man almost follows Jesus instructions, but instead of telling the people how much the Lord has done and the great mercy God has shown, he “began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him.”
So between the wise teachings on the Jewish side, the miraculous journey across the sea, and the loosing of a legion of demons into 2,000 head of swine in gentile territory, Jesus had established a name. Of course a great crowd had gathered around him as he came ashore.
Jesus is met by Jairus, a leader of the synagogue, who came and when he saw Jesus he fell at his feet and begged and cried for the life of his daughter. It makes me wonder why Mark’s gospel chose to focus on this man. Let’s face it, the multitude came to Jesus as he made landfall. There must have been dozens who fell at his feet begging dozens of supplications, crying in agony for their personal harsh circumstance. Yet, Jesus chose to go with this one man and his one request.
I wonder why scripture focused on this one man and this one request, but this is an answer we will never truly know. This is a question on the order of the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. Still, we do know this much. The angels dance on the head of a pin for the glory of God. So too, Jesus chose to go with this synagogue leader for the glory of God; and that’s enough of a reason.
Along the way, we have this second story, the story of the hemorrhaging woman.
According to ancient tradition, this bleeding was menstrual, making her as unclean as the demon possessed swine who just took a header. Her access to conventional society could have been denied. Whether this still applied in first century Palestine is debated by scholars,[1] but for the reader, it was a sign that she was on her own in the wilderness of her own blood.
She is without social standing, she has no one on earth, but she believes; no, she knows that if she can even touch his clothes she will be healed. And she is. “Daughter,” Jesus says, “your faith has made you well.” Dozens were pressing in on Jesus. The crowd was crushing in on him as he walked. Still, the only one who was touched by the power of Jesus was the one who believed something would happen when she touched him, even if it was just his cloak.
Again, I always wondered a couple of things about this healing. Assuming the purity law still applied to menstruating women, how in the world she could be out in polite society, much less in a crowd where she would be pressed to scores of others? Add the intentional touch of a man’s cloak and she is violating enough taboo to shame a Hollywood celebutant.[2] So why this story, why this outcome? Why of all the people who were in contact with the Lord was she the one touched by the power of Jesus? The only proper answer is the answer given for why this man and his daughter. The answer to “why?” is for the glory of God. To God goes the glory for her faith in the healing power of Jesus has made her well.
The troupe continues to the home of Jairus the synagogue leader. While Jesus is still speaking to the woman the people came and said “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” For Jesus, there is no trouble. “Do not fear, only believe.”
It was faith that healed the woman; it was her faith in the power of Jesus that made her well. The crowd knows what happened. Jairus knows what happened. Now Jesus calls on the temple leader not to fear, but to believe.
When Jesus and Jairus along with Peter, James and John arrive, the wailing has begun. The cries of sorrow at the death of the child are ringing like a claxon. In a shocking turn; they laugh when Jesus tells them to stop making a commotion; “The girl sleeps, she is not dead.” He then shoos the people from the room, he takes the girl by the hand and says “Talitha cum.” Get up little girl; and she does.
The thread common to these two miraculous healing stories is faith; faith that Jesus our Lord is able to do all things. We are called to share that faith. We are called to trust the Lord our God. But as we do, as we have faith and as we trust; we are constantly reminded that there is pain in our world.
I am not going to regale you with stories of pain and strife, neither from ancient times nor from ours. By detailing one, we leave behind hundreds of others. On the news we see the strife and discord in Iran only to diminish the spotlight on the happenings in Iraq and Afghanistan. The brutality taking place in Darfur only ends up reducing attention to Tibetan independence from China, the plight of ethnic Albanians in the Czech Republic, and ethnic Turks in northern Iraq.
It is enough to know the simple fact that pain is real, strife is real; death and injustice are real. Yet we are called to know that Christ is victorious over pain, strife, death, and injustice. He experienced these very feelings, these very pains; unto death, death upon the cross. Still, we can take solace that in this horror, there is one place for us to rest. One of the places we see this in scripture is from our psalm reading, today’s Call to Worship.
Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD;
LORD, hear my voice;
let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
I wait for you, O LORD; my soul waits for you;
in your word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD,
more than sentries for the morning,
more than sentries for the morning.
The psalm reminds us that the depths of human brutality know not only no physical bounds, but are as old as time itself. In the grasp of human brutality, there is one alone to whom we can turn, so we are to call to the Lord who will hear the voices of our supplication. As David laments the death of Jonathan, as Jesus hears the cries of Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman, as Jesus hears our cries of desperation, as we wait on the Lord more than sentries for the morning; in times of pain, in times of suffering; there is no other place for us to rest than in the arms of the ever-loving Lord of life. It is in God alone that we wait. This is where we wait because in God alone, in Christ alone, is victory.
There is blood and there are tears in our gospel reading. It has toil and sweat too. It reminds me of a famous line in a speech made by Winston Churchill in his first address to the British House of Commons on May 13, 1940 after his election as Prime Minister. I want to share with you the end of this speech:
I would say to the House, as I said to those who've joined this government: “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.”
We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory. Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival. Let that be realised; no survival for the British Empire, no survival for all that the British Empire has stood for, no survival for the urge and impulse of the ages, that mankind will move forward towards its goal.[3]
Churchill asks, “What is our aim?” “What is our goal?” Victory, that is our aim. And in Christ alone is victory. In Christ, through the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our Lord; in Christ alone is victory. The war Churchill waged was fought by sea, land, and air with ships, planes, and men. The war we wage is fought with love, grace, and the Cross of Christ.
The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming of Jesus Christ have set the pattern for the church and its mission. His life connects him to creation, and creation to him. His service commits the church to work for every form of well-being. His suffering makes the church sensitive to all sufferings so that it sees the face of Christ in our faces in every kind of need. His crucifixion discloses to the church God's judgment on our inhumanity and the awful consequences of its own complicity in injustice. In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming the church sees the promise of God's renewal of man's life in society and of God's victory over all wrong.[4]
We are called to faith. We are called to trust in the Lord our God. In the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our lives we are called to remember the blood, toil, tears, and sweat Jesus knew in his. We should remember that as God incarnate he could have risen above it all. Being fully divine, he could have dashed away any hint of suffering and pain. But being fully human, there is no avoiding the suffering of humanity, suffering unto death. Through this death and resurrection, his victory, and ours, is assured.
Churchill’s speech ended with this coda:
But I take up my task with buoyancy and hope. I feel sure that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, and I say, “Come then, let us go forward together with our united strength.”[5]
We claim the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit as we are called to go forward together with our united strength, united for the glory of God Almighty by God’s grace, peace, and justice.
When Jesus called on Jairus to believe, the words were meant for him alone. Yet this message of “believe” is one that needed to be known to the apostles, the disciples, and all of the followers of Jesus in every time and place. Believe in Christ. Believe in Christ’s victory. Believe in the power of God to reconcile all of creation to God’s own self.
[1] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, page 1817
[2] A portmanteau of celebrity and debutant
[3] Churchill, Winston, Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat. http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Blood,_Toil,_Tears_and_Sweat, delivered May 13, 1940, retrieved June 21, 2009.
[4] Paraphrase from the Confession of 1967
[5] Ibid, Churchill
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Warning! Danger Will Robinson!
This sermon was delivered on Sunday December 30, 2007, the 1st Sunday after Christmas at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas.
Isaiah 63:7-9
Psalm 148
Hebrews 2:10-18
Matthew 2:13-23
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
From 1965 through 1968, there was a television show on CBS called “Lost in Space.”[1] “Lost in Space” was the story of the Robinson family, launched into space in 1997 in aluminum foil space suits, sent to colonize Alpha Centauri. But their ship is boarded by a foreign spy who was trying to sabotage the mission. Instead of disrupting the lift-off, his weight added just enough to the payload to throw the ship off balance and its crew off their flight path. Yes, you get it; instead of “The Swiss Family Robinson” we have “The Space Family Robinson.”
This show had all of the obligatory characters every good science fiction ship wreck show needs. Along with the stowaway there’s mom and dad, one’s a biochemist and the other is an astrophysicist. There are the kids, one older two younger. There’s the dashing military man serving as ship’s pilot. And of course, there’s the robot. Every week the family faces some peril, and when their fate is in question, seemingly without question the robot would say, “Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!”
Though used only once in the run of the show,[2] this little phrase made it into the lexicon as an expression of warning, at least among my friends. And this week, while reading Luke’s gospel, Joseph receives warnings from the Lord. We have several suitable examples of “Danger Will Robinson.”
Joseph gets the warning about the impending doom of his family. He hears the angel of the Lord in a dream saying, “Warning! Warning! Danger Joseph, son of David (or David’s-son if you will)!” “Warning! Warning! Danger Joseph Davidson!” Joseph will also hear the word of when to return and about where to return because of the dangers of their return.
When we celebrate Christmas, there are some things we expect, and some we don’t. I expected to see a Christmas tree, but the chrismons were new to me. Every other church tree ornament I have ever seen pales to the humble construction and deep theology of these chrismons. Even more special, these were created by the children of this congregation who were taught of their meaning while making them; how wonderfully glorious, teaching and crafts, theology and pottery all in one afternoon.
At Christmas time we expect pageants. We expect the oldest kids to be Mary and Joseph, we expect the triplets to play the wise men, and we expect the cute kids who aren’t old enough to handle spoken lines to be the shepherds. Sure enough, somewhere there will be a nervous director or parent who wants everything to be absolutely perfect just as the plastic sheep rolls down the chancel steps.
We expect parties and presents and song and caroling and our reading today has nothing to do with any of these wonderful things. Any reading that includes a passage known as “the slaughter of the innocents” doesn’t seem to have the “Christmas Spirit.”
But this is the pericope, this is the lesson we read today.
The reading begins as Jesus, Mary, and Joseph leave Bethlehem. And after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.”
Let’s face it; Herod doesn’t seem to have any place in a Christmas pageant. King Herod was the Praetor, the Chief Magistrate, of Judea and he had been in power for over thirty years and you didn’t accumulate and keep that kind of power in the Roman Empire without knowing how to quell a rebellion or two. But Herod was more. On top of his winning personality Herod was angry, vengeful, and brutal.
So when the three wise men tricked him going home along a different route, Herod knew there was only one thing to do. So he consulted his advisors and they figured out the maximum age of the new-born king. He then sent a detachment to Nazareth where any child who even remotely close to that age was massacred. This is the slaughter, the slaughter of the innocents, and I don’t think it will be in the Christmas Pageant anytime soon.
Before he could walk, even before he could take food from beyond his mother’s breast, Jesus of Nazareth, Son of God and Son of Man is surrounded in blood and death. Death and suffering are the things we read about in the Good Friday liturgy, not the Christmas liturgy, but it is here in Matthew for all to see. So why does Matthew put this here? Why is this in the Lectionary?
I have a couple of ideas. The first is that Matthew is constantly pointing to the ministry of the Christ with the cross and to the resurrection, pointing forward by looking back. Much of Matthew’s gospel contains reference to prophecy. Verse 15 shows this off noting that one of the results evading Herod was fulfilling “what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my Son.’”
First, Matthew uses the words of the prophet Hosea who says, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.”[3] Matthew uses the words of the prophet to tell the world who Jesus is. Then as Matthew has Jesus coming out of Egypt to save and lead the people, he looks back on Jewish history with Moses foreshadowing the movements of Jesus. Moses is the warning, Jesus is the real thing.
Another possible reason for this savage incident in the middle of a birth narrative is to show the people that in the midst of joy and hope is despair and pain. At that, Matthew’s words show that in the midst of despair and pain is the presence and the joy of the Lord.
We need to remember that Matthew’s gospel was written around 75 AD, not long after the temple was destroyed and Israel and Judea were scattered again. The Jews, including the Jewish Christians who were the people Matthew was writing for, were being cast to the wind. The temple had been destroyed. The life of pain that they knew as subjects of Rome was being increased. So even in the midst of their despair, the hope of salvation was with them. It was with them in the birth of the baby and continues to be with them years after the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension. Yes there is danger, but yes there is more than pain. There is joy in the midst of the blood and there is blood in the midst of the joy.
These messages are still important to us today. There are warnings we need to listen to, warnings we need to heed. These things can’t be lost on us today. We have just celebrated the day of the Nativity of the Christ, but in this celebration of birth, death and strife surround us.
Former Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto was assassinated Thursday in Rawalpindi. Bhutto led Pakistan for nearly 5 years and had just returned from self-imposed exile in Dubai. She was a leading opposition candidate for Prime Minister again who was shot leaving a campaign stop. She was injured by gunfire, but she and another twenty were killed when the shooter detonated a bomb he was carrying.
She knew the dangers of returning and seeking to lead her people, but this didn’t stop her. She heard the warning of danger, and was paid back in pain and death.
Michelle Anderson and Joseph McEnroe confessed to the brutal slaying of Anderson’s parents and four other family members, including her young niece and nephew on Christmas Eve in Washington state. We were singing Lessons and Carols and two time zones away this is happening, its own version of the slaughter of the innocents. When King County Prosecutor Dan Satterberg was asked about motive he said, “In the end, what motive could you find that would make sense of the senseless slaying of the Anderson family?”[4]
Danger Will Robinson.
Just to add insult to injury, and prove that the universal church knows its own share of hostility during this season of joy, the Associated Press reported that “Robed Greek Orthodox and Armenian priests went at each other with brooms and stones inside the Church of the Nativity on Thursday as long-standing rivalries erupted in violence during holiday cleaning.”[5] Priests swat one another with brooms while cleaning the church built over the site that according to tradition is the place of our dear Savior’s birth.
So this doesn’t rate next to the other two examples, but considering the religious tension that exists in this world and the violence that follows it; this story is like a pie-fight in the middle of a fire fight.
Yet, still, in his time of torment and pain, Joseph receives a warning to leave. He later receives a message when to return. After contemplating the wisdom of returning to Judea where Herod’s son Archelaus is on the throne he receives another warning of danger and returns instead to Nazareth in Galilee, north of Judea.
According to Matthew this fulfills another prophecy in a round about way,[6] “He will be called a Nazorean.” In the blood of his birth and the blood of his death, the signs of warning and danger are all around us, they are not to be ignored. Yet, in the danger there is grace of the Son of God.
Let this be our lesson, in the days of his birth, in the days of his death, and in all the days of our lives, the only constant is Jesus the Christ. He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, not Herod, not Archelaus, no one. We crown him with many crowns. We acclaim his authority and proclaim his work and his word in the joy of his birth and the terror of his death.
Matthew shares the prophecy of old in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. He shares the joy of the birth of the child. But he is in tune with the pain of his people so he reminds his people of their pain in the violence and blood of Herod. Yet through it all, there is Jesus, the babe, the Messiah.
The only constant is Jesus the Christ.
[1] Lost in Space Episode Guide, http://epguides.com/LostinSpace/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[2] Lost in Space, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_In_Space, accessed December 29, 2007.
[3] Hosea 11:1
[4] Chilling Details Emerge in Washington Family Massacre, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22420704/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[5] Priests Brawl Inside Bethlehem Church, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22419654/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[6] Isaiah 11:1
Isaiah 63:7-9
Psalm 148
Hebrews 2:10-18
Matthew 2:13-23
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
From 1965 through 1968, there was a television show on CBS called “Lost in Space.”[1] “Lost in Space” was the story of the Robinson family, launched into space in 1997 in aluminum foil space suits, sent to colonize Alpha Centauri. But their ship is boarded by a foreign spy who was trying to sabotage the mission. Instead of disrupting the lift-off, his weight added just enough to the payload to throw the ship off balance and its crew off their flight path. Yes, you get it; instead of “The Swiss Family Robinson” we have “The Space Family Robinson.”
This show had all of the obligatory characters every good science fiction ship wreck show needs. Along with the stowaway there’s mom and dad, one’s a biochemist and the other is an astrophysicist. There are the kids, one older two younger. There’s the dashing military man serving as ship’s pilot. And of course, there’s the robot. Every week the family faces some peril, and when their fate is in question, seemingly without question the robot would say, “Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!”
Though used only once in the run of the show,[2] this little phrase made it into the lexicon as an expression of warning, at least among my friends. And this week, while reading Luke’s gospel, Joseph receives warnings from the Lord. We have several suitable examples of “Danger Will Robinson.”
Joseph gets the warning about the impending doom of his family. He hears the angel of the Lord in a dream saying, “Warning! Warning! Danger Joseph, son of David (or David’s-son if you will)!” “Warning! Warning! Danger Joseph Davidson!” Joseph will also hear the word of when to return and about where to return because of the dangers of their return.
When we celebrate Christmas, there are some things we expect, and some we don’t. I expected to see a Christmas tree, but the chrismons were new to me. Every other church tree ornament I have ever seen pales to the humble construction and deep theology of these chrismons. Even more special, these were created by the children of this congregation who were taught of their meaning while making them; how wonderfully glorious, teaching and crafts, theology and pottery all in one afternoon.
At Christmas time we expect pageants. We expect the oldest kids to be Mary and Joseph, we expect the triplets to play the wise men, and we expect the cute kids who aren’t old enough to handle spoken lines to be the shepherds. Sure enough, somewhere there will be a nervous director or parent who wants everything to be absolutely perfect just as the plastic sheep rolls down the chancel steps.
We expect parties and presents and song and caroling and our reading today has nothing to do with any of these wonderful things. Any reading that includes a passage known as “the slaughter of the innocents” doesn’t seem to have the “Christmas Spirit.”
But this is the pericope, this is the lesson we read today.
The reading begins as Jesus, Mary, and Joseph leave Bethlehem. And after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.”
Let’s face it; Herod doesn’t seem to have any place in a Christmas pageant. King Herod was the Praetor, the Chief Magistrate, of Judea and he had been in power for over thirty years and you didn’t accumulate and keep that kind of power in the Roman Empire without knowing how to quell a rebellion or two. But Herod was more. On top of his winning personality Herod was angry, vengeful, and brutal.
So when the three wise men tricked him going home along a different route, Herod knew there was only one thing to do. So he consulted his advisors and they figured out the maximum age of the new-born king. He then sent a detachment to Nazareth where any child who even remotely close to that age was massacred. This is the slaughter, the slaughter of the innocents, and I don’t think it will be in the Christmas Pageant anytime soon.
Before he could walk, even before he could take food from beyond his mother’s breast, Jesus of Nazareth, Son of God and Son of Man is surrounded in blood and death. Death and suffering are the things we read about in the Good Friday liturgy, not the Christmas liturgy, but it is here in Matthew for all to see. So why does Matthew put this here? Why is this in the Lectionary?
I have a couple of ideas. The first is that Matthew is constantly pointing to the ministry of the Christ with the cross and to the resurrection, pointing forward by looking back. Much of Matthew’s gospel contains reference to prophecy. Verse 15 shows this off noting that one of the results evading Herod was fulfilling “what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my Son.’”
First, Matthew uses the words of the prophet Hosea who says, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.”[3] Matthew uses the words of the prophet to tell the world who Jesus is. Then as Matthew has Jesus coming out of Egypt to save and lead the people, he looks back on Jewish history with Moses foreshadowing the movements of Jesus. Moses is the warning, Jesus is the real thing.
Another possible reason for this savage incident in the middle of a birth narrative is to show the people that in the midst of joy and hope is despair and pain. At that, Matthew’s words show that in the midst of despair and pain is the presence and the joy of the Lord.
We need to remember that Matthew’s gospel was written around 75 AD, not long after the temple was destroyed and Israel and Judea were scattered again. The Jews, including the Jewish Christians who were the people Matthew was writing for, were being cast to the wind. The temple had been destroyed. The life of pain that they knew as subjects of Rome was being increased. So even in the midst of their despair, the hope of salvation was with them. It was with them in the birth of the baby and continues to be with them years after the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension. Yes there is danger, but yes there is more than pain. There is joy in the midst of the blood and there is blood in the midst of the joy.
These messages are still important to us today. There are warnings we need to listen to, warnings we need to heed. These things can’t be lost on us today. We have just celebrated the day of the Nativity of the Christ, but in this celebration of birth, death and strife surround us.
Former Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto was assassinated Thursday in Rawalpindi. Bhutto led Pakistan for nearly 5 years and had just returned from self-imposed exile in Dubai. She was a leading opposition candidate for Prime Minister again who was shot leaving a campaign stop. She was injured by gunfire, but she and another twenty were killed when the shooter detonated a bomb he was carrying.
She knew the dangers of returning and seeking to lead her people, but this didn’t stop her. She heard the warning of danger, and was paid back in pain and death.
Michelle Anderson and Joseph McEnroe confessed to the brutal slaying of Anderson’s parents and four other family members, including her young niece and nephew on Christmas Eve in Washington state. We were singing Lessons and Carols and two time zones away this is happening, its own version of the slaughter of the innocents. When King County Prosecutor Dan Satterberg was asked about motive he said, “In the end, what motive could you find that would make sense of the senseless slaying of the Anderson family?”[4]
Danger Will Robinson.
Just to add insult to injury, and prove that the universal church knows its own share of hostility during this season of joy, the Associated Press reported that “Robed Greek Orthodox and Armenian priests went at each other with brooms and stones inside the Church of the Nativity on Thursday as long-standing rivalries erupted in violence during holiday cleaning.”[5] Priests swat one another with brooms while cleaning the church built over the site that according to tradition is the place of our dear Savior’s birth.
So this doesn’t rate next to the other two examples, but considering the religious tension that exists in this world and the violence that follows it; this story is like a pie-fight in the middle of a fire fight.
Yet, still, in his time of torment and pain, Joseph receives a warning to leave. He later receives a message when to return. After contemplating the wisdom of returning to Judea where Herod’s son Archelaus is on the throne he receives another warning of danger and returns instead to Nazareth in Galilee, north of Judea.
According to Matthew this fulfills another prophecy in a round about way,[6] “He will be called a Nazorean.” In the blood of his birth and the blood of his death, the signs of warning and danger are all around us, they are not to be ignored. Yet, in the danger there is grace of the Son of God.
Let this be our lesson, in the days of his birth, in the days of his death, and in all the days of our lives, the only constant is Jesus the Christ. He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, not Herod, not Archelaus, no one. We crown him with many crowns. We acclaim his authority and proclaim his work and his word in the joy of his birth and the terror of his death.
Matthew shares the prophecy of old in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. He shares the joy of the birth of the child. But he is in tune with the pain of his people so he reminds his people of their pain in the violence and blood of Herod. Yet through it all, there is Jesus, the babe, the Messiah.
The only constant is Jesus the Christ.
[1] Lost in Space Episode Guide, http://epguides.com/LostinSpace/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[2] Lost in Space, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_In_Space, accessed December 29, 2007.
[3] Hosea 11:1
[4] Chilling Details Emerge in Washington Family Massacre, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22420704/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[5] Priests Brawl Inside Bethlehem Church, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22419654/, accessed December 29, 2007.
[6] Isaiah 11:1
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Diverse Unity
This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 7th Sunday of Easter, May 20, 2007.
Acts 16:16-34
Psalm 97
Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21
John 17:20-26
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I bid you please forgive me for tripping over today’s gospel reading. I think if auctioneer and square dance caller schools ever had a final exam; that would be it. Another thing this reminds me of is the beginning of the old Beatles song, “I Am the Walrus,” “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”[1] Theologically it’s not the same, but as far as pronoun reference and tongue twisters go, the quality is the similar.
Our reading is the third part of the High Priestly Prayer, the prayer which comes at the end of the Lord’s Supper. During the supper, Jesus has broken bread and shared the cup with the apostles. He has given his disciples instructions and warnings. He has told them to abide in his love.[2] He has told them “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”[3] He tells them that he is the way, the truth and the life.[4] He has explained that he has chosen them out of the world, with everything that means and everything that requires.[5] He has washed their feet[6] and he has fed Judas,[7] the one who even as we read is returning with a detachment from the guard to arrest Jesus.[8] So to end this meal, to end this part of Jesus’ life and ministry, to close this chapter of history, Jesus offers a prayer for all of creation. Jesus offers prayer for himself, the apostles, and in today’s reading, Jesus offers prayer for the church; “for us and all others in all times and places who believe in him, so that we may all be one in the same way the Father and Son are one.”[9]
In a time and place where diversity is cultivated and celebrated, the prospect of “being one” with anything is not appealing to everybody. This continues to be an age of rebellion. These days, rebellion is found in music and art; and in tattoos and piercings. It is found in rage against authority and rage against whatever’s convenient. But there’s another old expression, “Everything that’s old is new again.”
If we think that being one makes us the same, we need to remember who was with Jesus at the Last Supper. It is tempting to think of the disciples as some sort of monolithic group of men on fire for the Lord. But as we know, this is anything but the truth.
Let’s begin with Levi and Simon the Zealot. Levi was a tax collector, and would have been considered a collaborator with the Roman authorities. As a Zealot, Simon would have advocated and worked toward the radical overthrow of Roman rule.
As for Peter, James, and John; they were best friends. They had enough business success that they were partners in fishing boats on the sea. They probably had men working for them. Peter would be the Rock; James and John were the Sons of Thunder. These three men were as close as brothers, men who trust one another with their lives in a dangerous business.
Then there was little brother Andrew. I don’t know who among us is an older sibling, but if you are you know what it is like to be bothered by the pesky little brother or sister. You’re trying to do fun stuff with the “Sons of Thunder” and here’s tag-along Andy. Or if you are the younger, you know what it is to be left out of the fun stuff, always being told you’re too young or too small or too weak or too whatever. Of course for those of you who are the middle child like me, you know about both.
Phillip was perhaps the member of the group who in our day would be creating actuary tables for insurance companies. He was always the rational one, the careful one. Ancient authorities said that it was Philip who after being called to follow by Jesus asked to bury his father first. When a young boy was found with a few loaves and fishes, it was Philip who told everyone that it would be impossible to feed 5,000 souls with such a paltry offering.[10]
So when we consider just these men who attended the Lord’s Supper, we see that they are a diverse group of folks. Nothing tells us that as they became one with the Lord they lost any of their individuality. Jesus’ arrest scene from John has shown us that the disciples responded in different ways. One responded in violence. Others responded by fleeing. One responded by putting the Passion into motion. Oh, as we talk about the twelve, we shouldn’t forget Judas, his role in these actions, and his status with the twelve.
The book of Acts tells us that as the apostles and disciples gather to be the church of Jesus Christ, there are differences. Questions had to be answered: did you need to be Jewish first before following Christ or could a god-fearing gentile become a member of the community without first being circumcised? Was the community required to maintain the strict table code found in the law or is surf-and-turf now on the menu? If there is one thing the witness of scripture tells us here it is that as we are called to be one in the Lord, as we are one in the Lord, this doesn’t mean we will become identical in the Lord. We are not presented with a single minded mass of men on fire for the Lord; the twelve are twelve different men who are one in the Lord who do not lose their individuality. Christ’s gift is unification, not homogenization.[11] We are one, but we are not the same.
One way I look at this comes from a good friend of Marie and me named Hal Butts. Hal is a Major in the Colorado State Police (Yes, he is Major Butts) and was best man at our wedding. During his toast, he invited us to think of ourselves as two corners on a triangle with Jesus at the apex. He reminded us that as we moved toward the Lord, we would move closer to one another. As Marie and I are two individuals, we will never be one and the same. Thanks be to God we will always be individuals. But as we move toward the Lord, we become one in the Lord, one in our marriage, and one in one another.
This example isn’t so unlike when Peter and John remind the Jewish leadership council that Jesus is the keystone of the faith they have rejected.[12] In stone arch windows and doors, there is a piece at the top of the arch, a keystone. It is the keystone that takes the weight of the sides of the arch keeping the stones from falling in on themselves. Remove the key, and the arch crumbles. Actually, if you remove any of the stones the arch will be weaker, but the key bears the brunt of the forces from both legs and the rest of the structure.
In both examples, none of the individual elements loses its individuality. One spouse does not become the other. One stone does not become another. Neither the people nor the stones become the other, but working together they form something new, different, and wonderful. Whether a marriage or a doorway or a window, the separate pieces retain their individuality yet become something else in unity with the key that makes them whole.
Jesus proclaims that he and the father are one, yet as Father and Son they cannot be the same. They are different and distinct. As Jesus hopes that the church, the church of every time and age, will be one with them; he knows we will not be the same. Jesus prays that we be one so that the world will know God; knowing the Father has sent the Son, and knowing the Father loves the world as the Father loves the Son. Jesus prays that we may be where he is, now and forever in his presence and in the presence of the Father. And yes, Jesus knows the world does not know the Righteous Father, but Jesus knows him and the apostles know that the Father has sent the Son. Jesus finishes his prayer, “I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
It is through this love that we are one, one in the church, one in the body of Christ, one in the love of the Righteous God. And while we are united in Christ, we are still individuals. We are one, but we are not the same.
In the Sunday night group we’ve been talking about the Irish rock band, U2 and their music. Talking about his band, Larry Mullin, Jr. says, “We are very different people with diverse personalities,” and then paraphrasing one of his band’s songs, “we are one but we are definitely not the same.”[13] This line comes from a song called “One.” The band was having a tough time in 1993 whle working on their new album. They were trying to do something new, and something new just wasn’t happening. Bass player Adam Clayton said, “We weren’t getting anywhere until [the song] ‘One’ fell into our laps and suddenly we hit a groove.” Bono, the lead singer and principle lyric writer said, “Maybe ‘great’ is what happens when ‘very good’ gets tired. We kind of out-stared the average, it blinked first and this song arrived.”[14] This is what came out of nowhere.
One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should.
One life with each other: sisters, brothers.
One life, but we're not the same.
We get to carry each other, carry each other.
One.[15]
We are given one love and one life in the one blood: the love of God through the blood of Jesus Christ. Through what the Lord our God has given his Son our Lord Jesus Christ, we are able to see the one perfect love in action. Through his teachings we are able to see the beauty and the grace of his life and love around us. And through this, we are called as the church, the body of Christ, to live one life with each other, sisters and brothers. We have one life. A life to live worshipping and working to grow closer to the cornerstone, the keystone of the faith, the one whom we believe, we trust, we hope. And in this grace and this peace and this mercy, we are to carry each other. We are to come together as one, one people united in the love of God the Father, through the blood of God the Son, by the power of God the Holy Spirit. This is how we are to respond to god and to one another in his mission of peace and redemption.
We are one, but we are not the same. As diverse as we are, we are called to unity so that we may all be one because as Jesus prays “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us.” As Jesus prays, may we be.
[1] Lennon and McCartney, “I Am the Walrus,” Magical Mystery Tour, Capitol Records, 1967
[2] John 15:1-17
[3] John 14:12-24
[4] John 14:1-11
[5] John 15:18–16:4a
[6] John 13:1-11
[7] John 13:21-30
[8] John 18:1-12
[9] Bower, Peter C., Handbook for the Revised Common Lectionary. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996, page 231.
[10] Barker, William P, The Personalities Around Jesus. Westwood, NJ: Revell, 1963, page 20-29
[11] http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=2838 accessed May 6, 2007.
[12] Acts 41:12
[13] U2 with Neil McCormick, U2 by U2. London: Harper Collins, 2006, page 9.
[14] Ibid, page 221.
[15] U2, “One”, Achtung Baby. Island Records, 1993
Acts 16:16-34
Psalm 97
Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21
John 17:20-26
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I bid you please forgive me for tripping over today’s gospel reading. I think if auctioneer and square dance caller schools ever had a final exam; that would be it. Another thing this reminds me of is the beginning of the old Beatles song, “I Am the Walrus,” “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”[1] Theologically it’s not the same, but as far as pronoun reference and tongue twisters go, the quality is the similar.
Our reading is the third part of the High Priestly Prayer, the prayer which comes at the end of the Lord’s Supper. During the supper, Jesus has broken bread and shared the cup with the apostles. He has given his disciples instructions and warnings. He has told them to abide in his love.[2] He has told them “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”[3] He tells them that he is the way, the truth and the life.[4] He has explained that he has chosen them out of the world, with everything that means and everything that requires.[5] He has washed their feet[6] and he has fed Judas,[7] the one who even as we read is returning with a detachment from the guard to arrest Jesus.[8] So to end this meal, to end this part of Jesus’ life and ministry, to close this chapter of history, Jesus offers a prayer for all of creation. Jesus offers prayer for himself, the apostles, and in today’s reading, Jesus offers prayer for the church; “for us and all others in all times and places who believe in him, so that we may all be one in the same way the Father and Son are one.”[9]
In a time and place where diversity is cultivated and celebrated, the prospect of “being one” with anything is not appealing to everybody. This continues to be an age of rebellion. These days, rebellion is found in music and art; and in tattoos and piercings. It is found in rage against authority and rage against whatever’s convenient. But there’s another old expression, “Everything that’s old is new again.”
If we think that being one makes us the same, we need to remember who was with Jesus at the Last Supper. It is tempting to think of the disciples as some sort of monolithic group of men on fire for the Lord. But as we know, this is anything but the truth.
Let’s begin with Levi and Simon the Zealot. Levi was a tax collector, and would have been considered a collaborator with the Roman authorities. As a Zealot, Simon would have advocated and worked toward the radical overthrow of Roman rule.
As for Peter, James, and John; they were best friends. They had enough business success that they were partners in fishing boats on the sea. They probably had men working for them. Peter would be the Rock; James and John were the Sons of Thunder. These three men were as close as brothers, men who trust one another with their lives in a dangerous business.
Then there was little brother Andrew. I don’t know who among us is an older sibling, but if you are you know what it is like to be bothered by the pesky little brother or sister. You’re trying to do fun stuff with the “Sons of Thunder” and here’s tag-along Andy. Or if you are the younger, you know what it is to be left out of the fun stuff, always being told you’re too young or too small or too weak or too whatever. Of course for those of you who are the middle child like me, you know about both.
Phillip was perhaps the member of the group who in our day would be creating actuary tables for insurance companies. He was always the rational one, the careful one. Ancient authorities said that it was Philip who after being called to follow by Jesus asked to bury his father first. When a young boy was found with a few loaves and fishes, it was Philip who told everyone that it would be impossible to feed 5,000 souls with such a paltry offering.[10]
So when we consider just these men who attended the Lord’s Supper, we see that they are a diverse group of folks. Nothing tells us that as they became one with the Lord they lost any of their individuality. Jesus’ arrest scene from John has shown us that the disciples responded in different ways. One responded in violence. Others responded by fleeing. One responded by putting the Passion into motion. Oh, as we talk about the twelve, we shouldn’t forget Judas, his role in these actions, and his status with the twelve.
The book of Acts tells us that as the apostles and disciples gather to be the church of Jesus Christ, there are differences. Questions had to be answered: did you need to be Jewish first before following Christ or could a god-fearing gentile become a member of the community without first being circumcised? Was the community required to maintain the strict table code found in the law or is surf-and-turf now on the menu? If there is one thing the witness of scripture tells us here it is that as we are called to be one in the Lord, as we are one in the Lord, this doesn’t mean we will become identical in the Lord. We are not presented with a single minded mass of men on fire for the Lord; the twelve are twelve different men who are one in the Lord who do not lose their individuality. Christ’s gift is unification, not homogenization.[11] We are one, but we are not the same.
One way I look at this comes from a good friend of Marie and me named Hal Butts. Hal is a Major in the Colorado State Police (Yes, he is Major Butts) and was best man at our wedding. During his toast, he invited us to think of ourselves as two corners on a triangle with Jesus at the apex. He reminded us that as we moved toward the Lord, we would move closer to one another. As Marie and I are two individuals, we will never be one and the same. Thanks be to God we will always be individuals. But as we move toward the Lord, we become one in the Lord, one in our marriage, and one in one another.
This example isn’t so unlike when Peter and John remind the Jewish leadership council that Jesus is the keystone of the faith they have rejected.[12] In stone arch windows and doors, there is a piece at the top of the arch, a keystone. It is the keystone that takes the weight of the sides of the arch keeping the stones from falling in on themselves. Remove the key, and the arch crumbles. Actually, if you remove any of the stones the arch will be weaker, but the key bears the brunt of the forces from both legs and the rest of the structure.
In both examples, none of the individual elements loses its individuality. One spouse does not become the other. One stone does not become another. Neither the people nor the stones become the other, but working together they form something new, different, and wonderful. Whether a marriage or a doorway or a window, the separate pieces retain their individuality yet become something else in unity with the key that makes them whole.
Jesus proclaims that he and the father are one, yet as Father and Son they cannot be the same. They are different and distinct. As Jesus hopes that the church, the church of every time and age, will be one with them; he knows we will not be the same. Jesus prays that we be one so that the world will know God; knowing the Father has sent the Son, and knowing the Father loves the world as the Father loves the Son. Jesus prays that we may be where he is, now and forever in his presence and in the presence of the Father. And yes, Jesus knows the world does not know the Righteous Father, but Jesus knows him and the apostles know that the Father has sent the Son. Jesus finishes his prayer, “I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
It is through this love that we are one, one in the church, one in the body of Christ, one in the love of the Righteous God. And while we are united in Christ, we are still individuals. We are one, but we are not the same.
In the Sunday night group we’ve been talking about the Irish rock band, U2 and their music. Talking about his band, Larry Mullin, Jr. says, “We are very different people with diverse personalities,” and then paraphrasing one of his band’s songs, “we are one but we are definitely not the same.”[13] This line comes from a song called “One.” The band was having a tough time in 1993 whle working on their new album. They were trying to do something new, and something new just wasn’t happening. Bass player Adam Clayton said, “We weren’t getting anywhere until [the song] ‘One’ fell into our laps and suddenly we hit a groove.” Bono, the lead singer and principle lyric writer said, “Maybe ‘great’ is what happens when ‘very good’ gets tired. We kind of out-stared the average, it blinked first and this song arrived.”[14] This is what came out of nowhere.
One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should.
One life with each other: sisters, brothers.
One life, but we're not the same.
We get to carry each other, carry each other.
One.[15]
We are given one love and one life in the one blood: the love of God through the blood of Jesus Christ. Through what the Lord our God has given his Son our Lord Jesus Christ, we are able to see the one perfect love in action. Through his teachings we are able to see the beauty and the grace of his life and love around us. And through this, we are called as the church, the body of Christ, to live one life with each other, sisters and brothers. We have one life. A life to live worshipping and working to grow closer to the cornerstone, the keystone of the faith, the one whom we believe, we trust, we hope. And in this grace and this peace and this mercy, we are to carry each other. We are to come together as one, one people united in the love of God the Father, through the blood of God the Son, by the power of God the Holy Spirit. This is how we are to respond to god and to one another in his mission of peace and redemption.
We are one, but we are not the same. As diverse as we are, we are called to unity so that we may all be one because as Jesus prays “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us.” As Jesus prays, may we be.
[1] Lennon and McCartney, “I Am the Walrus,” Magical Mystery Tour, Capitol Records, 1967
[2] John 15:1-17
[3] John 14:12-24
[4] John 14:1-11
[5] John 15:18–16:4a
[6] John 13:1-11
[7] John 13:21-30
[8] John 18:1-12
[9] Bower, Peter C., Handbook for the Revised Common Lectionary. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996, page 231.
[10] Barker, William P, The Personalities Around Jesus. Westwood, NJ: Revell, 1963, page 20-29
[11] http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=2838 accessed May 6, 2007.
[12] Acts 41:12
[13] U2 with Neil McCormick, U2 by U2. London: Harper Collins, 2006, page 9.
[14] Ibid, page 221.
[15] U2, “One”, Achtung Baby. Island Records, 1993
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