Easter II

By the Reverend Martha Frances

Year A, Easter II

30 March 2008 

Text:  John 20: 19-31

Other Readings:  Acts 2: 14a, 22-32; Psalm 16; I Peter 1: 3-9 

      "Peace be with you," Jesus says to his disciples when he appears to them behind locked doors on that first Easter night.  You can bet there hasn't been any peace with the disciples thus far this day.  Do we find ourselves with the disciples huddled in the upper room, wondering what on earth will happen to us now?  Our lives have been turned upside down for the past 3 years by this traveling preacher.  He has called us away from our fishing nets & fields, our kitchen stoves & tax businesses, to come follow him.  We have done so, coming to believe that he is the Messiah for whom we have waited so long.

      Now, the last fateful trip to Jerusalem & the drama of the last few days.  Our hopes & dreams have been destroyed.  Not only have we seen or heard of the horrible events of the crucifixion; not only have we agonized through the Sabbath, trying to determine what to do next.  Several of us went to the tomb this morning & found it empty.  Mary Magdalene came running to us, telling us of her encounter with the gardener at Gethsemane; no, not a gardener, but indeed this same Jesus, yet Jesus mysteriously changed.  She returned exclaiming, "I have seen the Lord!"  What are we to think about these happenings?  What are we to DO about them?

      We're not left to wonder for long because here in our midst Jesus appears, saying, "Peace be with you!"  There he is—at least we recognize him this time; we rejoice at seeing the wounds in his hands & side.  Yes, this is he who has been crucified; he's back with us as a person—this same Jesus, yet Jesus mysteriously changed.  Listen!  Jesus is saying again, "Peace be with you," & then continues, "As the Father has sent me, so I send you."  What does he think of us after we all abandoned him?  How can he offer us peace?  This acceptance he shows us:  how does he do that?  Amazing!  And further, he says he sends us to do the same.

      What are you talking about, Jesus?  You don't mean you want us to go out there in that hostile world—the one where you were just murdered?  We're scared!  We're not ready!  We have NO peace!

      Jesus doesn't have time to fool around, though, so he breathes on us just as God breathed into creation the world & all in it.  God breathed the breath of life into creation, that Spirit which had hovered of the deep & then infused into creation by God's very own breath.  On the 1^st day of the week, the day of NEW creation, Jesus now inspires this whole houseful of disciples with such breath, with such power.  Right here in front of God & everybody, Jesus is making good on the vow he made at that last supper before the crucifixion to send the Paraclete.  Jesus is providing us an Advocate; I think that's like an attorney, someone who'll stand up for us & take our side.  Maybe we won't feel so alone & afraid.

      But Jesus is also telling us he has lots for us to do.  Listen to this.  He says, "Receive the Holy Spirit; get on with my work in the world.  Get out there & tell the good news of new life.  Remember, I told you that you would do greater things than I have done.  What are you doing behind locked doors?  Get a move on!"  He really does expect us to go on out in that precarious world & accomplish new things in his name, doesn't he?

      And Jesus is pretty specific about the gift the Spirit empowers us to share with others: forgiveness.  We're to offer the new covenant of reconciliation.  We prayed a few minutes ago for God to give us the power to show forth in our lives what we profess by our faith.  Do we really mean it?  You mean we have to give up the resentments we have when things don't go our way?  Does Jesus really expect us to share the gift of forgiveness with others?  Even those who have slighted us, even here in the Christian community? That's asking a lot.  But he just said that when we don't do that, the sins we retain—those we're unwilling to ask God's forgiveness for—will continue to haunt us. 

      Now what are the sins you are holding onto, which you don't believe can ever be forgiven?  Or perhaps, who are you holding in unforgiveness today?  Who are WE to hold onto sins for which Jesus so freely offers forgiveness?  Why is this forgiveness of sins—our own sins or those of others—so important that the risen Jesus begins with it?  I'm just beginning to understand what he meant.  If he is sending us out into the world to live a resurrected life, to be an Easter people, then how can we be proclaimers of the Gospel if we're weighed down by the sin of unforgiveness?  How much baggage of unforgiveness have we carried into this community of Hope?  Are we holding back the Spirit's work here in our own worship community?

      Well, during the last week, we HAVE gone out & told about the wondrous things we have experienced.  At least we told several of our group who weren't with us last week.  We told Thomas, & you know what he said?  He said he wouldn't believe us unless he saw Jesus' hands & side for himself.  I think he's from Missouri!  But I'm not sure I would have believed this incredible tale had I not seen Jesus with my own eyes.  I hadn't believed Mary Magdalene either. 

      So now we're back in the Upper Room with the doors locked.  We've already figured out if we're going to have the nerve to reach out to others with our good news, we're going to have to gather on the weekly anniversary of Jesus' resurrection to worship together. That's why we need to share the Eucharistic table every week.  This time, Thomas & some of the others are with us. 

      Look!  Jesus is appearing once again!  He's passing the peace with us, but it's so much more powerful when HE says, "Peace be with you."  Jesus tells Thomas he'll do whatever is necessary for Thomas to believe.  I was a little put out with Thomas that he's so stubborn, but Jesus just gives him what he needs to have faith.  What an awesome God we worship!  Jesus says, "Come on, Thomas.  Check it out.  Feel my wounds.  I'm real."  What does Thomas do?  Now he doesn't even have to feel Jesus' wounds in order to respond, "My Lord & my God!"  Wow, he sounds as sure as Mary Magdalene. 

      How many of us are like Thomas?  How many have often felt left out when others are describing dramatic experiences of conversion & we cannot pin-point a specific moment when we were swept off our feet with God's love for us?  I was brought up in a Christian home by a preacher father & believing mother, baptized as an infant in a country Methodist church in deep East Texas.  I've

often felt cheated because I can't pinpoint a one-time conversion experience  or a specific time when I became a Christian.  I guess you could say my whole life has been a process of becoming Christian.  I didn't have a burning bush experience.  Probably would have poured a bucket of water on it if I had had one.  Does that mean I'm any less a faithful Christian than one of those disciples who was present when Jesus was in the flesh?  Thomas did many of us a favor, asking a question we might ask ourselves.  Here, Jesus also tells each of us, "Blessed are those who have not seen & yet have come to believe."  Jesus tells later generations, even you & I, we are qualified for belief. In fact, in the long run, faith is a gift from God we don't earn & can't demand on our timetable. Still, Christ provides whatever we need for faith.

      I've told you before of the Yankee who stopped at a coffee shop in East Texas for breakfast.  You know the kind:  yellow vinyl seats & a waitress with beehive hair.  He looked over the menu & ordered sausage & eggs complete with hot biscuits.  When the server appeared with his breakfast, he stared at a white mound simmering in butter on his plate.  "What's that?" he questioned.  She replied, "Oh, that's your grits, sir."  Continuing to stare at his plate, he retorted, "Grits!  I didn't order grits!"  The woman assured him, "You don't order grits, sir.  Grits just come."  Well, my friends, grits are like faith.  They're a gift.  We Southerners know we don't order grits, & we can't order faith.  Both just come as gift from God.

      Belief doesn't have to happen all at once, overnight.  Jesus is very gentle with us.  Just as he did with Thomas, Jesus will give us what we need in order to come to believe & to act on that belief.  And we aren't expected to journey alone.  Like the disciples in that upper room, we're meant to travel in community.  In fact, we're connected in our forgiving to each other.  We're expected to journey in our faith together.  There's no such thing as an isolated Christian.

      Hope Church is looking forward to reevaluating what it means to live into abundance in our future.  The Diocese has given us some good suggestions & encourages us to engage in our church-all of us.  Christ calls us to be reconciled to him & to one another, a resurrection people who, despite our desire to ask God to let this cup pass from us, are able to say, "However, not my will but yours be done, O God." 

      Why do we stand for much of the Eucharistic service?  Because we are Easter people, risen with Christ, recreated & made new, & standing is the posture for solidarity in community.  We stand because we've gotta have each other, because in standing we profess our faith as we will do in a few moments in proclaiming the Nicene Creed and praying for one another & the world.  Then we can truly say to one another—& mean it—"The peace of the Lord be with you.  And we can mean it when we respond, "And also with you!" ("And with thy spirit.")  As we offer each other the Lord's peace, may we feel inspired and inspirited by the breath of God through Christ.  We are Easter people; we are re-created.  On this day, the Lord has acted; we will rejoice & be glad in it!  Alleluia!

Easter Day

By the Reverend Martha Frances

Year A, Easter Day

23 March 2008 

Text:  John 20: 1-18

Others:  Acts 10: 34-43; Psalm 118: 1-2, 14-24, 22-24; Colossians 3: 1-4 

      All morning in prayer [& music] & acclamation, we've been declaring that Christ is risen.  We've been waiting for this moment all of Holy Week, & truth be told, all through Lent.  We know the story, & we've heard it again this morning.  It's a triumphant one, one most of us have grown up with.  But for a few moments, let's venture back to a time & a people who didn't have that assurance or assumption. 

      Let's hurry to the cave early in the still-dark morning with Mary Magdalene, her arms full of herbs & ointments to complete properly what had only been done quickly before the beginning of Sabbath last Friday night—anointing Jesus' body for burial.  In her grief & concern to fulfill the proper Jewish burial rites, Mary has not considered how she'll get the large stone away from the cave opening, yet she's perplexed when she finds it rolled away & runs to share the news with the men disciples.  She assumes someone has taken the body; resurrection does not enter her mind.

      For Peter & the Beloved Disciple—tradition tells us it is the writer John himself—in their youth & eagerness, even this rush to the tomb becomes a contest.  The Beloved outruns Peter, peers into the cave, finds only the burial clothes, but waits for Peter to enter the tomb itself.  How typical for Peter to bumble right in, eager & awkward as ever, considering neither the possibility of a stench nor that he will thus become ritually unclean!  And he notices details:  the head cloth is rolled up by itself, separated from the rest of the linens.  John claims that as he follows Peter, he first believes tho does not yet understand the scripture any more than Peter does.  What is it that he believes when they return to their homes that morning?  What do they make of the empty tomb?  Are Jesus' predictions of a resurrected body on their minds?

      At this point, neither disciple is moved to a new way of life by the sight of the empty tomb.  Neither should we moved too quickly from this early exploration of that cave when Peter & the Beloved Disciple find themselves in a sort of limbo.  It is not the empty tomb alone which effects a newness of life. 

      We return to Mary.  When does she return to the cave?  We're not told, but she has arrived weeping inconsolably, not even able to minister to the body of this master she has followed so faithfully & loved so completely.  It is she who sees the angels.  Were they there before?  Are the eyes of her heart open to see what the men do not see?  She still believes someone has moved Jesus' body, & even when Jesus appears behind her, she does not recognize him & assumes it is he—the gardener—who can solve her dilemma.  Even now, for Mary, there is no evidence of resurrection. 

      How does Mary recognize Jesus?  Jesus calls her by name.  Jesus calls her just as Jeremiah & other prophets witness that God calls us:  by name.  We are precious to God.  Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls us each by name & his own flock know his voice.  Of course, she reaches out to embrace Jesus, but his relationship with those he knew as a human being is forever changed & is now transitory, so Christ asks her to stretch, to reach beyond what is familiar, & to fulfill the astounding new role of apostle.  Amazingly, it is to the woman Mary that Jesus says, "Go & tell."  Indeed, he calls Mary Magdalene to be the first evangelist, to share her experience, strength & hope.  She returns to the disciples saying, "I have seen the Lord."

      Although Mary is profoundly taken aback by her encounter with the risen Christ, she begins to act upon her new reality.  John implies that only when Mary tells them of her experience do they begin to fully believe.  Perhaps the eyes of their hearts are open so the same evening they can begin to contemplate belief's turning into action. 

      At what point would you be moved to proclaim "Alleluia!  Christ is risen?  When are you ready to celebrate this central tenet of our Christian life together?  When are the eyes of our hearts open to Jesus' invitation to new life?  If Jesus rose to become the first-fruits of the new creation, how & when do we continue by fulfilling his expectation that we join in the harvest?  Throughout the 7 weeks of Easter, we will explore what Jesus' conquering of death meant to the first disciples & might mean to our way of life as disciples.  Sort of like with TV serials, stay tuned until next week!

      Today is Easter, the Feast of the Resurrection.  Christ is risen.  We are called forth from our tombs of self-satisfaction or grief or helplessness or fear to the new life which Easter promises us.  We celebrate Easter not only today but for the whole 50 days of the Easter season.  We celebrate Easter not alone but in the Christian community where we are learning here at Hope how to become what God has already created us to be, an Easter people.  May we celebrate the joys of Easter as vigorously as some of us observed Lent.  Come let us worship & study, build community & witness beyond it together.  We are an Easter people.  Alleluia!  Alleluia!  Christ is risen indeed!

Easter Vigil

By The Rev. Martha Frances+

Easter Vigil

22 March 2004 

Texts:  Genesis 1:1-2:2; Exodus 14:10-15:1;

Ezekiel 36:24-28;  Ezekiel 37: 1-14 

      Tonight's liturgy is unlike any other of the church's year.  Tonight we are in the "in between."  On this holy night, Jesus crosses from death into life.  This night extends until the glorious celebration of the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ tomorrow morning either at 8:00 or at 10:30.  We have lit the Christ candle which will shine at each service between now & Pentecost.  It will remind us each time we light it that Christ truly IS the light of the world.  We have heard the haunting Canticle called the Exsultet which I reminds us of why we are here.  We have heard a good bit of scripture—although not the whole nine scriptures which are assigned for this time—highlighting the history of God's relationship with God's covenant people.  The scriptures speak for themselves, & I only want to connect the dots, so to speak, & help us meditate upon these stories in terms of the mystery we celebrate tomorrow morning.

      Tonight we look back to the history of the Hebrew people in order to look forward to the resurrection & our future as redeemed children of Jesus Christ.  First we heard the wonderful creation story, written many centuries later, a solemn, measured, artistic account of God's bringing a plan for all God's creatures out of the chaos which preceded it.  We are moved from chaos to order, from nothingness to being, from the simplest forms of matter to the creation of humans.  When humankind was created, we were in God's own image, & God blessed us & gave us responsibility over the rest of creation & declared us VERY good.  We have a sacred duty to care for all God has created as stewards of creation.  How appropriate for us to read the first creation story as we await our celebration of the new creation.   Moses' leading the Hebrew people through the Red or Reed Sea as they begin their 40 year trek through the wilderness to the promised land is a defining story for the Jewish people.    I always pause here to ponder how different this story would be if told by a mother or sweetheart of an Egyptian soldier.  Even in great victory, we must pray for those who are lost, those who are defeated.  Our Jewish brothers & sisters celebrate Passover each year, & Passover is the backdrop for this weekend's Christian celebration.  The Jews—& we—remember God's hearing their cries of affliction & responding by sending Moses to lead them to a land where they could be shaped as a people into God's own.  How much of our expectation of Jesus as Messiah is based upon the redemption of God's people from Egypt which Moses led.  Jesus is the new Adam but also the new Moses.  God's presence is with us in ALL our journeys.  We are called to be faithful & to follow, even when our travels take us through desert places.

      In the lovely passage from Ezekiel, God promises a new Israel, & we Christians see prophesied here the new covenant received through Jesus Christ.   God tells God's people that we will be sprinkled with clean water to cleanse us from all uncleanliness & from all idols.  God's promise is to take the Hebrews—& us—& make us a redeemed community, give us new hearts of flesh rather than of stone.  Now that new heart is one of flesh which means that we won't be able to ignore our feelings but must deal with them, even when they are painful.  But God will be with us in walking through the pain.  God says that we will be God's people & God will be our God.  Quite a promise, isn't that?

      Finally, the vision of the valley of dry bones provides an incredible image of God's ability to rejuvenate & renew a people, a community such as Hope.  Absolutely no one is beyond God's care, no soul is too dry & brittle for God to breathe life into.  At times, the responsibility of leading us from 2 small congregations to a stronger, healthy one has been daunting, & the attendance at our Holy Week services as we've competed with spring break, the rodeo, & beautiful weather this week has been pretty discouraging, yet we are called to persevere.  Remember that the Hebrew word for breath or wind is also that for spirit, so God's breathing the Spirit into Ezekiel's dry bones is the same that God can breathe into our dry bones, filling & using us to reach others.

            We are privileged this evening is to restate in front of God & everybody, our sisters & brothers in Christ, our own promises which we accept at our baptism.  As we turn to page 292 in the Book of Common Prayer, I urge you to listen with the ears of your heart to what we are all saying as we stand on the promises we make to God.  Our challenge this Easter season is to discover anew all the ways God calls us to fulfill the promises we make tonight.

Maundy Thursday

By the Reverend Martha Frances

Year A, Maundy Thursday

20 March 2008 

Text:  John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

Other Readings:  Exodus 12: 1-4, [5-10], 11-14; Psalm 116: 1, 10-17; I Corinthians 11: 23-26 

      As Moses confronts Pharoah to let the Hebrews in Egypt go, Yhwh prepares the people for travel.  They are to eat a substantial meal that has been prepared properly—joining with neighbors to share the lamb, making the first rudimentary community.  Their travel preparations include loins girded, feet shod, & staff in hand.  The blood on the doorposts was sign of God's protection.  Thus began Yhwh's forming Israel as the people of God.  Jewish people even today celebrate this Seder meal not hurriedly but with great ceremony at the beginning of their Passover week commemorating their deliverance from Egyptian slavery. 

      When Paul writes to the Corinthian church, he reminds that community of Jesus' commandments on the night of the first Last Supper, recalling for them the significance of Jesus' whole evening with his disciples in the context of the Passover meal.  Paul is going about the forming of a new Christian community at Corinth who would experience freedom in Christ just as Israel had been freed from pharaoh's slavery in Egypt.  Another community of people in formation.

      Tonight we recall Jesus' commandments given to his disciples—including us—at that final evening with them.  As Jesus journeys to Jerusalem for the Passover celebration, he incorporates his own forming of community into the larger Jewish context of the Hebrews' formation as a people.  Notice that Jesus acts out his parables on this night & then teaches their significance.  As we do with our children, he shows his followers & then tells them what his actions signify.

      Jesus' first commandment according to John is to follow his example of service in washing his disciples' feet.  Just as our God comes as a servant, our basic stance toward each other & the rest of the world, is that of service—to give of ourselves freely.  Tonight I as your pastor will begin the ritual of footwashing, inviting any who desire to come forward, first to have your feet washed, & then to wash those of another Hope brother or sister, knowing that only in our servanthood can we fulfill the other of Jesus' commandments.

      From ancient times, sitting at table & sharing a meal with others has signified friendship & hospitality with them.  Jesus welcomes all his disciples to share the Eucharistic meal even though they will betray him.  Jesus commands us to bless, break, pour out, give fully, & share this meal we call the Eucharist & indeed all our lives with our community & beyond it.  We are invited tonight to recall that time of community-building & Eucharist—thanksgiving.

      Notice that Jesus gives us another commandment which we are using to guide us here at Hope:  to love one another as Jesus has loved us.  As we leave here tonight, we are called upon to do so in an attitude of servanthood & community as we build our parish.  Jesus shows himself as our guide, our model, our savior.

      On Maundy Thursday, there's good news & bad news.  The bad news is that—despite our better selves—we will all betray Christ.  Like Judas, we turn him over to others.  Like Peter, we betray our discipleship.  Like the three in the garden, we fall asleep when we should wait, watch, & pray.  Like all the disciples, we disappear & refuse to go the whole way to the cross with him.

      The good news is, however, that it's still all right because we are all under God's grace.  We don't have to earn it.  Jesus' resurrection promises us that God loves us enough to provide for us eternally—despite our denial.  And what is to be our response?  Gratitude.  Acceptance of that incredible love Jesus models for us.  Tonight we can choose to renew our willingness to live our lives in Christlike ways:  forgiving, accepting, building up community, choosing to love as Jesus loves despite all the excuses & reasons we have to be less than who we're created to be.

      Through the next several days, we're encouraged to meditate upon these scriptures & upon the incredible gift Christ gives us in the giving of himself so fully.  In closing, I'd like to share with you a poem by Andrew Morrison about tonight. 
 

      Maundy Thursday

      Andrew Morrison, Used by permission  

The service doesn't end. 

After taking communion

Twelve of us proceed

on washed feet

carrying candles

through the darkening church

to the altar in the north chapel,

following a muffled cross,

which is all the more present

for being implied and indistinct. 

Once again we hand over

what we have been given

and walk away enriched

by the loss as much as

by the earlier possession. 

The service doesn't end

with the usual alleluias

and a big hymn.

The choir fades slowly

and the anthems of light are                    stilled,

one solitary beam

singing its slow note

upon the altar, which the priest

strips and then scrubs

agonizingly clean, until it too

is worthy of darkness. 

The service doesn't end

even then.

A few would-be disembodied souls

stumble and clatter through the pews

into the north chapel

to sit or kneel or crouch

in the darkness which the candles emphasize.

There we wait not for passion

But for the darkness to become complete. 

People walk stiffly out in ones or twos.

There is less breathing, less light, less sound. 

My ribs are peeled back

like the shell of an easter egg,

like a house of twigs;

a small treasure still glows inside,

until a dark wind scatters its ashes

and I am empty. 

At the same moment I am full

with all the darkness of God,

with the silence of the not-me,

with the peace of the world. 

And then the understanding

that the death we wait for,

though it dazzles us,

solipsistically,

it is not the end.

It is merely a rest, a pause,

a preparation and a cleansing.

the work goes on. 

Quietly we rise,

humbly and without fanfare

walk back into life

hoping, knowing 

The service doesn't end.

Palm Sunday

By the Reverend Martha Frances
Year A, Palm Sunday
16 March 2008

Text:  Matthew 27: 1-66
Other Readings:  Isaiah 50: 4-9a, Matthew 21: 1-11, Psalm 31: 9-16, Philippians 2: 5-11

 

        What a journey we are on!  In fact, some have called this "Journey Sunday" & we have once more acted out Jesus' entry into Jerusalem with our palm procession this morning, remembering Jesus' decision to return to Jerusalem when he responded to Mary & Martha's call to Lazarus' bedside.  Then we have heard part of the story which we'll be enacting during this Holy Week leading up to Jesus' death, recalling that those who traveled with him the first Holy Week didn't know about the resurrection but traveled with him on faith.  We began the morning shouting "Hosanna!" upon Jesus' entry & soon "Crucify him!" as we join the fickle crowd with our own varying ability to be faithful.  Today we find ourselves at both the celebration of the palms & commemoration of the passion.

        Why all this attention to Jesus' travels, especially this last fateful one to his death?  We modern folk usually avoid the reality of death as long as we can & trust the care of the dying & those who have died to professionals who can clean up the most distasteful elements for us.

        But we who have grown up in the Judeo-Christian tradition are people of story, aren't we?  We learn & remember best through narrative, & this Journey Story is THE story which makes us a people—defines who we are as Christian.  The crucial difference between Christianity & other faiths is that our God is embodied in a human called Jesus who came to earth to travel with us, to teach us how to be fully human & in so doing, to embrace our becoming more like God.  Jesus entered our world so truly that those who were threatened by the fullness of his humanity had to kill him to preserve the paltry power structure they had established.

        This week we enter the Journey with Jesus once again, seeking to experience as fully as we can the fullness of his gift to us of life as well as of death so that we may die with him, therefore living more abundantly into the resurrection life he offers us.  Tenebrae, the service of shadows, carries us through many of the Hebrew scriptures of lamentations which capture the mood of a people broken by the weights of various principalities & powers upon them & the anticipation of a savior who would redeem them from being downtrodden.  On Thursday, we will reenact the first Lord's Supper when Jesus instituted the Holy Communion, the central liturgical act of our community, but also taught us how to be servants by washing his disciples' feet.  We join other Christians in the neighborhood at noon on Friday in an ecumenical service to commemorate Jesus' crucifixion & then have the opportunity to walk that final journey to the cross either at 1:00 or at 6:30 with the Stations.

        Though modern folk often avoid reality with compulsive shopping or video games or TV & movie-watching or alcohol or tobacco use, the Christian faith is not escape from reality but rather strengthens us to face reality, walking through it with dignity accompanied by our living Christ.  Our worship this week is the true reality show, for it draws us into the reality of this world as the human Jesus submits to the worst that humans can do in order to grace us with the best we humans can be.

        At the Easter Vigil next Saturday evening, we review the drama of salvation starting with God's creation & moving us to the brink of the resurrection so that, by Easter morning, we have journeyed with Jesus & can truly celebrate with him into the  assurance of a full & abundant life from this time forward.

        Three years ago this was our first service together as a community now called Hope.  We celebrated with great hope & not a little trepidation as we began a journey together.  During the dramatic reading of the gospel that day, I was called over to the parish hall where the paramedics were trying to revive my husband Bill from a diabetic reaction, yet I returned in time to preach my first sermon as your pastor.  During these three years, I've let go of that dear husband, moved to my own little house, learned to live a single woman & welcomed a new granddaughter so I can now enjoy grandmothering 2 little girls.

During those three years, you have each had your own journey, much of which you too may recall today with me.  We have shared some parts of those personal stories with each other as we forge our parish story as Hope.  Today is a day to look back at the accomplishments we've made in three years & forward to ask Christ in faith what we as Hope parish are called to be & do on our journey together.  We are people of a journey;  our own journey is intertwined with the Story, the journey of faith which Jesus walked for us & we are privileged to walk with him.  With which of his companions do you most closely associate this week?  To what mission is Jesus calling you to out of this Holy journey?  To what mission does Jesus call Hope?  Come, let us discern together.

Lent V

By the Reverend Martha Frances

Year A, Lent V

9 March 2008 

Text:  John 11: 1-45

Others: Ezekiel 37: 1-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8: 6-11 

      "I am the resurrection & the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, & everyone who lives & believes in me will never die."  This is today's Gospel.  Such is the heart of the extraordinary story I have just read you from John's Gospel.  I could sit down right now, & you would have heard the Gospel.

      But you know I'm not going to do that.  I won't stop there because Jesus didn't stop there nor did the writer of the 4^th Gospel.  In fact, for 2000 years, brilliant theologians & scholarly monks & nuns & ordinary, godly people like you & me have been exploring how Jesus' statement relates to their own lives & those of others around them.  So what?  If Jesus is resurrection & life, what difference does that mean to you & me today?  Why are these verses most often chosen to comfort the loved ones of someone recently deceased? What does it mean that those who die will live & those who live & believe in Jesus as resurrection & life will never die? 

      First, let's reenter the story to find Mary & Martha sending a message to Jesus that their brother Lazarus is on his deathbed.  Having heard & no doubt seen Jesus' healings, when they are in sorrow & fear for Lazarus' life, they call on Jesus.  Surely this man whom they love & trust can restore their brother, his good friend, to health.

      Why on earth doesn't Jesus jump up immediately to rush to Lazarus' side?  All we're told is Jesus' delayed action is for God's greater glory—hardly comforting to Lazarus' sisters as we learn when Jesus finally arrives in Bethany.  Since the subsequent action is obviously a preview of Jesus' own death & resurrection, Lazarus must be raised from death.  Jesus timing, just like God's, is not ours.  Can you imagine Jesus having to spring forward into Daylight Savings Time this morning?  We often want Jesus to act on our time schedule & are disappointed & sometimes lose faith if God doesn't respond to our prayers when & how we expect.  What impatient humans we are!

      Jesus' conversation with the disciples allows us to see them once again misunderstanding him yet also having the courage to accompany him.  Notice that it is Thomas, often called the Doubter, who takes the lead, recognizing they are entering a life-threatening situation.  How many of us could declare with Thomas, "Let us also go, that we may die with him"?  They travel to almost certain death.

      Martha confronts Jesus in grief with accusation, for she truly believes Jesus could have cured Lazarus.  In this poignant scene, Jesus engages Martha in a theological discussion just as he did with Nicodemus & then the Samaritan woman.  When his followers misunderstand Jesus, it allows him to explain the significance of his words & actions.  Martha, as a good Jew with pharisitical learning, states that she believes in resurrection on the last day—an Orthodox Jewish belief.  Thus, Jesus declares: "I am the resurrection & life."  Just so had God declared to Moses out of the burning bush, "I am who I am."  Jesus' identification with God is clear to us, but those to whom he was speaking had not yet experienced his crucifixion and death or resurrection.

      Martha's response is more powerful than she is given credit for:  "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world."  Her confession parallels that of Peter yet it's curious we don't label this "The Confession of St. Martha"?  Of course, I've always been fond of Martha!

      Martha reveals to us what the Gospel writer as well as Jesus wants us to know—Jesus is Messiah, Son of God, the one who has been promised to come into the world.  In fact, that promise has been fulfilled—Jesus fulfills all the traditional Jewish anticipation of the expected one.

      The virtual repetition of this scene with Mary & the  mourners seems anticlimactic to us, but Jesus did not come to us individually for our own personal salvation.  Jesus came into the world to redeem the world so we all might be saved.  The encounter with Mary & the Jews extends the good news—the gospel acclamation—to all in the community.  We do not live out our salvation in isolation.  We live in community as we are expected to do, & our life, death, & resurrection is a public experience.

      We also see the depth of Jesus' humanity in this scene.  He arrives at Lazarus' tomb greatly disturbed in spirit & deeply moved.  Having already seen clear evidence of Jesus' divinity in this story, it is crucial for us also to witness his humanity.  When I grieve the death of a friend or loved one, it comforts me to know that Jesus also wept.  Our Prayer Book tells us in our burial liturgy that human grief isn't unchristian.  It continues, "the very love we have for each other in Christ brings deep sorrow when we are parted by death.  While we rejoice that one we love has entered into the nearer presence of our Lord, we sorrow in sympathy with those who mourn."  Jesus is indeed fully human here, grieving in sympathy with those who mourn.

      But that is not the last word, is it?  Jesus asks the mourners to remove the stone & thanks God before the miracle even accomplished.  His prayer is one of thanksgiving—Eucharist—the same name we use for our sacrament of bread & wine.  Jesus already trusts which we learn by his next command: "Lazarus, come out!"  Lazarus does just that.  Lazarus is brought again from the dead by the power of Jesus' command.  Then Jesus tells his companions to unbind him & set him free.

      Just days before Jesus' own crucifixion & death, we evidence his reviving Lazarus—exhibiting power over death.  Jesus shows us that belief in him allows us to live freely, unbound, because not even death can separate us from God's love, from resurrection & life.  What had been hoped for throughout much of Jewish history came to pass in Jesus.  Jesus' upcoming death was not to be the final word.  Despite the pain the disciples would feel & the disbelief expressed by those such as Thomas, the final word is not death but life.  Those who live & believe in Jesus have overcome death.

      On this last Lenten Sunday before Palm Sunday, Jesus' raising of Lazarus is not just a prefiguring of Easter but is part of the Easter message itself.  Resurrection life begins here & now in this life before it continues into the life to come.  This story at this time of the Christian year gives me great courage & more than a little comfort, especially in terms of our lives in the community of Hope.  The three movements toward belief outlined here are guidelines for this church community in embracing who God calls us to be, I believe.  I borrow some thoughts from the Rev. G. Porter Taylor in naming three movements through death into resurrection.

      Martha & then Mary confront Jesus with their need for him & his healing power because they cannot revive Lazarus on their own.  In turn, Jesus confronts their old way of belief & calls forth from them a new level of belief, a deeper trust in God & recognition that Jesus is divine.  Confrontation is necessary for us in this community to trust God to lead us from our old way of doing things—in many cases life-draining—into a new vision of how to grow in depth as well as in size to fulfill our mission as a parish.  We must truly pray for discernment, praying for each other as we pray for ourselves, & for courage to let go of the past which is dead in order to see what future Christ is laying out for us.  We must encounter God at the depth of our being & be willing to turn our lives personally & as Hope parish over to the care of a loving God who can do for us more than we can ask or imagine.

      Consolation is the 2^nd movement in this Lenten journey.  Martha & then Mary were offered Jesus' consolation, the assurance that Jesus would be with them in their grief.  Jesus himself showed his very human side in his own tears; perhaps they consoled each other.  We at Hope need to become much better at consoling each other but most at believing Jesus' promise that he will be with us as we die to the old & open ourselves to the new.  Belief is not just an intellectual proposition; it really means "to give one's heart to."  Are we willing to trust that Christ will lead us through the murky depths of Good Friday into the morning light of the resurrection?  Jesus doesn't wait until we have it all together to be with us;  Jesus accompanies us—weeps with us—comes to us in our pain & frustration as we are coming apart at the seams.  Jesus promises to be present all the way.

      Finally, when we let go of the dead parts of our past & trust Christ completely to accompany us, putting our whole lives in his hands, then we are ready for the new life of conversion.  Jesus calls to Lazarus—& to us—to come out of the tomb of Good Friday & to embrace new life, living into it fully.  Jesus cried out to his friend in love & companionship & moved Lazarus to new life.  Then Jesus told his friends to unbind him so he could get about the business of living, more fully than he'd ever known before. 

      In the next two weeks, we will be walking the steps of Jesus' last days on earth, & Jesus is calling us to confront & let go of our past, to trust enough that Jesus can console us in the loss & accompany us through the dark night into the light of the resurrection where we can experience the conversion of Easter.  Jesus is calling us to come out & live life abundantly with him.  Such is the hope of Hope.  Such is the hope of Easter.  Take heart in the journey!

Lent IV

By the Reverend Martha Frances

Year A, Lent IV

2 March 2008

 

Text:  John 9: 1-41

Others: I Samuel 16: 1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5: 8-14

 
[This morning we sing "I want to walk as a child of the light; I want to follow Jesus." Children of light follow Jesus, this song seems to say.] In the reading from Ephesians, the image of light is powerful [expanded]: "For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light." And at the end of that passage, "Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, & Christ will shine on you." Throughout scripture, & especially throughout the Gospel of John, the images of darkness & light, night & day dance like sunbeams through the stories. Jesus says, "We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world."

John expands this light versus darkness imagery in the story of Jesus' healing of the man born blind. Again this week, we hear one of John's long stories about the activities of Jesus, one in which the theological significance pops out like flecks of sunlight through the window blinds.

Jesus is walking along with his disciples who, seeing a blind man beside the road, ask who has sinned so this man was born blind. Today we would consider it primitive to blame congenital blindness upon the parents' sin yet we hear remnants of this accusation from folks who presume they or someone else is being punished for past behavior when they contract a disease. This attitude was rampant regarding the AIDS epidemic when it mostly afflicted homosexuals. It's interesting, now that AIDS affects the heterosexual population also, it is less often attributed to the victim's sin.

Jesus' disciples are definitely products of their culture: they focus on whose sin caused the blindness with little regard for the plight of the blind man himself. Jesus does not tolerate conversation about undeserved sin, dismissing the disciples' question out of hand: "Neither this man nor his parents sinned." He proceeds not just to talk about the blind man but to minister to him. Though the blind man never asks for healing, when Jesus sends him to wash in the pool of Siloam, he returns sighted.

Here, on a human level, we have evidence that what was dark is now light. The miracle is so amazing that the neighbors argue about whether this man was truly the one born blind. He assures them it is indeed he. Who is responsible for this miraculous cure? The man says the man called Jesus healed him. The townspeople might be sighted, but they seem awfully blind in this passage. However, the man who was healed has begun to believe.

As was their custom, they took the newly-sighted man to the synagogue so the rabbis could certify the miracle. We see similar blindness in the Pharisees: they get all wrapped up in Jesus' Sabbath healing. How can this Jesus not be a sinner since he broke the Sabbath law? That the blind man can now see is inconsequential to them. Sabbath rules were broken. Shame on Jesus! The religious leaders now try to trap the healed man. He assures them Jesus is a prophet. This formerly blind man, gaining sight & growing in faith, now sees Jesus as prophet.

Since the religious leaders aren't getting anywhere with the healed man, they interrogate his parents who show not one ounce of courage. This is their son who was born blind, but they claim ignorance how he has gained sight. They might be thrown out of the synagogue, & their position as good Jewish people is more important than their son's having gained his sight. "He is of age; ask him!" they reply. Passing the buck is not only pretty cowardly in itself, but in so doing, they put their son back on the hot seat.

Were we to see this drama played out, we would probably be snickering by now because the leaders return to the healed man & repeat their interrogation: "Identify the man," they demand. "Give glory to God;" their equivalent to "Swear on a stack of Bibles." Now we find the leaders not only blind; the healed man indicates they are also deaf. He reminds them he has already told them what he knows but they didn't listen. He boldly questions them, "You want to be his disciples, too? Otherwise you wouldn't be so persistent."

They can't tolerate his honesty & what they consider arrogance. "Who do you think you are, smarty pants," they say in essence. "We're the teachers, not you!" The newly-sighted man is driven out of the temple, separated from the community, ostracized & shunned. At this point, Jesus re-enters the story, & when he reveals himself to the sighted man as Son of Man, the man then responds, "Lord, I believe!"

Throughout the telling of this story, we see the difference between physical & spiritual blindness as we explore the freedom sight brings. First, the formerly-blind man becomes aware of the healing powers of Jesus & then sees Jesus is of God. Despite uncomfortable—perhaps dangerous—consequences, he must affirm the miracle which Jesus has done. This man models progressive discipleship for us. The passage ends, "And he worshipped him." He knows Jesus is divine, else he wouldn't have worshipped him.

This gospel passage has long enlightened those preparing for baptism during Lent. In the early Church, candidates for baptism studied up to 3 years before their baptism at the Great Vigil of Easter. We plan to have baptisms this year at our Easter Vigil, so if you are interested for yourself or a child, please see me immediately. This story exhibits the process of disciple-making usual in the early Church. The healed man, & countless Christians after him, began spiritual journeys with a glimmer of the light of belief &, through studying what it means to be Christian & living 3 years in Christian community, they were continually bathed in the Christ-light, the light of the world.

Baptism begins the process. When we celebrate a baptism or recite the Baptismal Covenant, we reaffirm our own enlightening, our journey toward walking fully in the light. Before our baptism, we were certainly in the dark, & sometimes we have slipped into the shadows since that time. But Jesus invites us to take on the light of Christ & display our lamp on a stand so it can enlighten others. Today's Ephesian passage tells us, "Try to find what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them." Our weeks of Lent prior to Easter are set apart for examining how we can live more fully into our baptismal vows. Beginning Wednesday after Easter, we will meet after the Eucharist about 7:15 in a Discovery Class to explore becoming or being an Episcopalian. All interested in confirmation or in growing as a maturing Christian are encouraged to come weekly through April until the Bishop comes in late May for Confirmation.

Although Jesus doesn't dwell upon the question of sin in this passage, we get some hints of what Jesus counts as sin & what isn't in St. John's passage. Jesus discounts any connection between physical blindness & sin, & John uses sin in the singular, not sins. Why? In this Gospel, Sin is defined not by illness nor by violation of the law but rather by one's resistance to Jesus. Sin is gauged not by what actions a person does or doesn't take but by one's relationship to Jesus, or more precisely, by whether one believes that God is present in Jesus. A person's individual action is examined in terms of whether that action opens one to receive the light of Christ or whether that action blocks out the light.

Of course, when we live in Christian community, our actions do not affect ourselves alone but the whole of that community. Our ability to be a community of brothers & sisters with one another means we grow in trust with each other. Four of us from this community spent this last week in Los Angeles further honing our skills in offering communities opportunities to deepen trust with one another. Hope has the opportunity to grow as a model of multi-cultural community & sensitivity to further breaking down barriers which Jesus leveled in his own day. Ask Melanie Fahey, Danita & Cornelius Perry, or me how you can take part in this exciting opportunity. Our growing as an ever-welcoming community—not only in hospitality but also in discerning more fully Christ's call to us to become more truly Christlike is extraordinary. Let's covenant to live into the light of inclusion as we have stated in our mission statement.

We're all invited to join the man born blind to live into our baptismal vows by letting Christ's light illumine us more & more, making us into disciples who, strengthened by the light of the Holy Spirit, go forth to shine our lights to all the world. We are not on this journey alone. We gather with brothers & sisters in the community of the Holy Communion table to eat & drink of heavenly food so we can let our lights so shine before others that they may see God. May our eyesight be bright that we may see God in all our days, & that others might see Christ in us.