El Sexto Domingo de Pascua

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Hechos 17:22-31 

Juan 14:15-21

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables ante tu vista, Señor, nuestra fortaleza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

 

Esta primavera he estado dirigiendo un estudio bíblico sobre los Hechos de los Apóstoles. Cada semana hemos prestado atención a lo que Dios estaba haciendo a través de las personas en la iglesia primitiva; hemos aprendido cómo y por qué las historias de los Hechos han ayudado a la iglesia cristiana a recordar su propósito e identidad durante dos mil años; y considerando sobré cómo se manifiestan hoy la fe y la vida cristiana.

 

Hechos retoma la narración justo donde termina el Evangelio de Lucas, pasando rápidamente de la resurrección al Día de la Ascensión, comprimiéndolos primeros cuarenta días de la temporada de en un solo capítulo.

 

Y entonces Jesús desaparece de la vista, y la historia se centra en sus discípulos y en la obra que ellos realizan en Su nombre.

 

Un tema central de los Hechos de los Apóstoles es la manera en que Dios iba abriendo espacio para que sucedieran cosas nuevas, comenzando con Pentecostés y continuando con el ministerio de los discípulos, un ministerio que cruzo fronteras y llevó el Evangelio —las Buenas Nuevas del amor de Dios y del perdón del pecado— a todo el mundo.

 

Los discípulos están enfocados en hacer aquello que Jesús les enseñó.

 

Nuestro Evangelio de hoy es tan solo una parte de esa enseñanza. Forma parte de lo que se conoce como el “Discurso de Despedida”, el cual tiene lugar la noche en que Jesús es arrestado, en la víspera de su crucifixión y muerte.

Jesús les está diciendo a los discípulos cómo se ve el amor. En esta ocasión, se trata del amor hacia Él: su Maestro, su Amigo, su Salvador y Señor. Y Él afirma que amarlo significa guardar sus mandamientos.

 

Recuerden:

Jesús acaba de darles el “mandamiento nuevo”, aquel que revisitamos cada año el Jueves Santo, durante la Semana Santa:

 

Un mandamiento nuevo les doy: que se amen los unos a los otros. Así como yo los he amado, también ustedes deben amarse los unos a los otros. De este modo todos sabrán que ustedes son mis discípulos: si se aman los unos a los otros». (Juan 13:34-35)

 

El discipulado es amor a Dios, amor mutuo entre nosotros y amor al mundo en el que vivimos, respiramos y existimos. (Hechos 17:28)

 

No consiste en intentar ser «lo suficientemente buenos». No se trata de seguir los estrictos códigos domésticos que escuchamos describir a Pedro anteriormente en su carta.

Ni siquiera se trata de no cometer errores o de no hacer lo que Dios nos dice.

Afortunadamente, Dios ha dicho que nos perdona cuando nos equivocamos.

Dios conoce el historial de la humanidad, y esta lejos de ser perfecto.

 

Seguir los mandamientos de Dios es amar.

 

Una de las formas en que amamos a Dios es amándonos los unos a los otros: Ver lo que Dios está haciendo en la vida de las personas que nos rodean y sentir curiosidad por sushistorias.

 

Amarnos los unos a los otros significa escucharnos mutuamente y aprender unos de otros cómo Dios ha transformado la vida de cada uno de nosotros.

 

Significa reconocer los dones que Dios nos ha dado a cada uno y ver cómo cada persona usa esos dones para transformar la vida de quienes están a su alrededor.

 

De esta manera, somos llamados a encarnar el amor de Dios cuando Jesús ya no está visible ante nuestros ojos.

 

Otros aprenden acerca del amor de Dios al experimentar ese amor a través de nosotros.

 

Y, a menudo, nuestras acciones hablan más fuerte que las palabras; sin embargo, en su carta, Pedro nos anima a todos a estar siempre dispuestos a dar “razón de la esperanza que hay en [nosotros]…”.

 

Al igual que los discípulos en el libro de los Hechos, tendremos oportunidades para contar a otros lo que Dios ha hecho; o tal vez ellos nos pregunten: “¿Por qué vas a la iglesia?”, “¿Cómo afrontas los momentos difíciles?” o “¿Dónde encuentras esperanza?”.

 

He compartido cómo Dios me trajo de regreso a la iglesia cuando era una joven adulta 

cómo confiamos en que Dios se encargaría de guiar nuestros siguientes pasos cuando fui llamada al ministerio, en una época en que mis hijos aún asistían a la escuela; y

cómo mi familia y yo hemos afrontado diversos desafíos de salud.

Existen otras historias; del mismo modo que cada uno de ustedes tiene sus propias historias sobre cómo Dios ha obrado en sus vidas.

A menudo digo que “Dios se queda con todos los verbos”, pues la única manera en que logro dar sentido a mi propia historia es observando cómo Dios obró —en su propio tiempo y a través de otras personas— para traerme hasta el día de hoy.

 

Nuestras historias —nuestras experiencias al ver cómo Dios cumple sus promesas de acompañarnos y de ser nuestro defensor o auxilio—son la base de nuestra esperanza en Cristo, quien murió y resucitó por nosotros. 

 

Al escuchar hoy las Escrituras, podemos tener la certeza de que estamos siguiendo los mandamientos de Dios cuando amamos bien y compartimos estas historias —y nuestras propias vidas— los unos con los otros.

 

Oremos.

Dios, bueno y misericordioso:

Te damos gracias por tu Hijo Jesús, quien vino al mundo y nos mostró lo que es el amor.

Ayúdanos a amarte a Ti, a amarnos los unos a los otros y a amar al mundo.

Ayúdanos a reconocer cómo te manifiestas en nuestras vidas y cómo nos acompañas cada día.

Gracias por tu amor y tu perdón,

que son la fuente de nuestra esperanza en Cristo.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.

Acts 17:22-31

John 14:15-21

This spring I have been leading a Bible study on the Acts of the Apostles. Every week we’ve been paying attention to what God was doing through the people in the early church, learning how and why the stories in Acts have helped the Christian church remember its purpose and identity for two thousand years, and considering what Christian faith and life look like today. 

 

Acts picks up where Luke’s gospel ends, moving quickly from the resurrection to the Day of the Ascension, compressing the first forty days of the Easter season into one chapter. 

And then Jesus is out of sight, 

and the story focuses on his disciples 

and the work they are doing in His name.

 

A major theme of the Acts of the Apostles is how God was making room for new things to happen, beginning with Pentecost and continuing with the disciples’ ministry that crossed boundaries and took the Gospel - the Good News of God’s love and forgiveness of sin – to the whole world. 

 

The disciples are focused on doing what Jesus taught them. 

 

Our gospel today is just a piece of that teaching. It is part of what is called “the Farewell Discourse” that happens on the night Jesus is arrested,

on the eve of his crucifixion and death. 

Jesus is telling the disciples what love looks like. This time it is love for him, their teacher, their friend, their Savior and Lord. And he says that loving him means keeping his commandments. 

 

Remember, 

Jesus has just given them the “new commandment” that we revisit every year on Maundy Thursday during Holy Week:  

 

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:34-35)

 

Discipleship is love for God, for each other and for the world where we live and breathe and have our being.  (See Acts 17:28)

 

It is not trying to be ‘good enough’. It isn’t about following the strict household codes that we hear Peter describe earlier in his letter. 

It isn’t even about not making mistakes or failing to do what God tells us. 

Thankfully God has said God forgives us when we mess up.  

God knows humanity’s track record and it’s far from perfect.

 

To follow God’s commandments is to love. 

 

One of the ways we love God is to love each other:

To see what God is doing in the lives of the people around us

and be curious about their stories.

Loving each other means listening to each other and learning from each other how God has changed each of our lives.

It means recognizing the gifts God has given each of us 

and seeing them use those gifts 

to change the lives of the people around them.

 

In this way, 

we are called to embody God’s love when Jesus is out of sight.

 

Others learn about God’s love by experiencing God’s love through us. 

And, often, our actions speak louder than words, but in his letter, Peter encourages all of us to be ready with “an accounting for the hope that is in [us]…” 

 

Like the disciples in Acts, we will have opportunities to tell others what God has done, or they may ask, “Why do you go to church?”, “How do you handle hard times?”, or “Where do you find hope?”

 

I have shared 

how God brought me back to church as a young adult; 

how we trusted God to sort out the next steps when I was called to ministry when my children were still in school; and 

how my family and I have faced health challenges.

There are other stories, 

just like each of you has stories of how God has worked in your lives.

 

I often say “God gets all the verbs” because the only way I make sense of my story is to see how God worked in God’s own time and through others to bring me to today.

Our stories – our experiences of seeing God fulfill God’s promises to accompany us and be our advocate or helper – are the basis for our hope in Christ, who died and was raised, for us.

 

Listening to Scripture today, 

we may be confident that we are following God’s commands when we love well and share these stories and our lives with each other.

 

Let us pray.
Good and Gracious God, 

We give you thanks for your Son Jesus who came into the world and showed us what love is. 

Help us to love You , each other and the world. 

Help us recognize how you show up in our lives and accompany us every day.

Thank you for your love and forgiveness, 

that is  the source of our hope in Christ..

We pray in Jesus’ name. 

Amen.

El Cuarto Domingo de Pascua

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Salmo 23

Juan 10:1-11

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables ante tu presencia, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

 

Quizás recuerden que, a menudo, este cuarto domingo de Pascua recibe el nombre de “Domingo del Buen Pastor”, y nuestras lecturas nos conectan con pasajes de las Escrituras que nos hablan de cómo el Señor es nuestro Pastor.

 

En el Evangelio de Juan de hoy, Jesús dice: “Yo soy la puerta de las ovejas.” (v. 7); y luego, tan solo unos versículos más adelante, afirma: “Yo soy el buen pastor. El buen pastor da su vida por las ovejas.” (v. 11). Podemos reconocer que estas son dos de las siete declaraciones del “Yo SOY” que Jesús pronuncia en este Evangelio: declaraciones que nos revelan algo acerca de su identidad como nuestro Señor y Salvador, así como de su relación con nosotros y con toda la humanidad.

 

Malcolm Guite, poeta y sacerdote anglicano, describe la vida de un pastor del primer siglo y nos ofrece una perspectiva esclarecedora sobre nuestro texto del evangelio. Según él, una aldea solía tener un redil común o compartido. Las familias compartían ese refugio, el cual protegía a las ovejas de las inclemencias más severas del tiempo. Cada mañana, los pastores acudían a ese redil; un guardián —a quien se le pagaba por vigilar los rebaños durante la noche— abría la puerta, y los pastores sacaban a sus ovejas de sus rebaños hacia afuera para que pastaran.

 

Sin embargo, muy pronto, cualquier pastizal situado en los alrededores inmediatos se agotaba; por eso, cada día los pastores tenían que llevar a sus rebaños más lejos, viajando hacia pastizales más altos y distantes. Con el tiempo, llegaban a caminar hasta lugares situados a más de un día de viaje de distancia, por lo que tanto el rebaño como el pastor tenían que dormir al aire libre. 

En esos lugares, los arqueólogos han encontrado círculos de piedra como este 

con muros lo suficientemente altos como para impedir que las ovejas abandonaran el redil, y con una abertura que les permitía entrar o salir. Pero, estas estructuras no tenían puertas o portones, así que, el pastor se acostaba en la abertura y se convertía, de manera literal, en la puerta por la cual 

tendría que pasar cualquier lobo, ladrón o bandido para entrar al redil,

y a través de la cual las ovejas tendrían que pasar para salir.

 

Con esta comprensión, podemos escuchar este texto de una nueva manera.

 

Cuando Jesús habla del portero que abre la puerta, podemos imaginarnos la actividad ruidosa de la mañana, mientras las ovejas esperan oír la voz de su pastor, distinta de todas las demás.

 

Jesús dice: “Él llama a sus propias ovejas por su nombre y las saca.” (v. 3b).

 

Y luego, cuando los discípulos todavía no lo entendían, Jesús lo intenta de nuevo. Esta vez, habla de las ovejas que han seguido al pastor hacia los pastos altos. Allí no hay portero. Solo están el pastor y el rebaño. Y cualesquiera que sean los peligros o amenazas que encuentren en el camino. Al reunir a sus ovejas dentro del rústico redil cuando cae la noche, el pastor se convierte ahora, literalmente, en la puerta: las protege, las mantiene a salvo y ahuyenta a cualquier intruso o amenaza.

 

Jesús dice: “Yo soy la puerta de las ovejas.” (v. 7); y luego, apenas unos versículos más adelante, dice: “Yo soy el buen pastor. El buen pastor da su vida por las ovejas.” (v. 11).

 

El pastor no es solo un cuidador o un compañero.

El pastor es aquel que:

guía a las ovejas hacia el descanso y el alimento. 

protege a las ovejas de los enemigos o del mal,

dando su vida para que las ovejas hallen descanso y paz.

 

Eso es Jesús para nosotros.

Él nos guía a través de la vida y nos invita a la quietud.

Jesús guía nuestros pasos y espera a que lo sigamos.

 

Y Jesús, en su muerte en la cruz,  literalmente entrego su vida por nosotros.

Al morir y al resucitar,

Jesús nos asegura que la muerte no tiene la última palabra.

Dios siempre va delante de nosotros, guiándonos y protegiéndonos. Guite, a quien mencioné anteriormente, escribió el siguiente poema mientras reflexionaba sobre Jesús como la Puerta o el Acceso al Redil: [i]

 

No una que cuelgue suave o hábilmente,

no como aquellas que cepillaste en el taller de José;

no como las aberturas bien aceitadas que se abrían

con tanta facilidad ante el paso experto de Pilato;

 

no como aquellas que se cerraron en el rostro de María,

de casa en casa, en el desbordado Belén;

ni como aquella que ningún hombre puede asaltar:

la temible cortina, el velo imponente

que espera tu ruptura en Jerusalén.

 

No una que hayas fabricado, sino una en la que te has convertido:

portante, equilibrada, una viga con peso propio

para salvar la brecha, para ponernos al alcance

de tu alto pastizal. Llamándonos por nuestro nombre,

tiendes tu cuerpo sobre la brecha;

tú mismo eres la puerta que se abre hacia el hogar.

 

Hay dos partes de esos versos que amo especialmente. La primera es que Jesús nos llama a cada uno por nuestro nombre; y la segunda es que, tal como escribe Guite, Jesús es "la puerta que se abre hacia el hogar".

 

Nombrar a alguien es una forma poderosa de demostrarle que es visto, conocido y amado; y dar la bienvenida a alguien le otorga un sentido de pertenencia.

 

Dentro de unos minutos bautizaremos a Alejandro David y a Leonardo Saúl, nombrándolos hijos amados de Dios.

Junto a sus padres y padrinos, haremos promesas de apoyarlos y orar por ellos en sus nuevas vidas en Cristo.

Y les daremos la bienvenida a la familia de Dios.

 

Mi oración por Ale y Leo es que siempre hagan su hogar en el amor de Dios y encuentren en  Grace un lugar de pertenencia y bienvenida.

 

Oremos.

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

te damos gracias por tu Hijo Jesús, nuestro Señor y Salvador,

quien nos llama por nuestro nombre y nos da la bienvenida a casa, en tu amor.

Ayúdanos a escuchar siempre tu voz y a seguirte.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.

[I] Malcolm Guite. ‘I Am The Door Of The Sheepfold’. https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/tag/sheepfold/, accessed 4/25/26.

Psalm 23

John 10:1-11

Let us pray…

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen. 

 

You may remember that often this fourth Sunday of Easter is called “Good Shepherd Sunday” and our readings connect us to Scripture that tell us how the Lord is our Shepherd.

 

In John’s Gospel today, Jesus says, “I am the gate for the sheep.” (v. 7) and then just a few verses later, he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (v. 11) We can recognize that these are two of the seven “I AM” statements Jesus makes in this gospel – statements that tell us something about his identity as our Lord and Savior, and his relationship to us and all humanity.

 

Malcolm Guite, a poet and Anglican priest, describes the life of a first century shepherd and provides insight into our gospel text. According to him, a village would have had a common or shared sheepfold. The households would have shared the shelter, and it would have protected the sheep from the worst of the elements. Each morning the shepherds would go to that fold, a paid gatekeeper who had watched the flocks at night would open the gate and the shepherds would lead their flocks out to graze.

 

But quickly, any pasture in the immediate area would be worn away and each day the shepherds would have to lead their flocks farther afield, traveling to higher and more distant pastures. Eventually they would have walked to places more than a day’s journey away and the flock and shepherd would have had to sleep outdoors.

In those places, archeologists have found rock rings, like this one 

with walls high enough to keep the sheep from leaving the fold, and an opening that lets them in or out. But these structures didn’t have doors or gates, so the shepherd would lay down in the opening, and quite literally become the door

through which any wolf, thief or bandit would have to pass to enter the sheepfold, 

and through which the sheep would have to pass to leave.

 

With that understanding, we can hear this text anew. 

 

When Jesus talks about the gatekeeper opening the gate, we can picture the noisy activity of the morning as the sheep wait to hear their shepherd’s voice, distinct from all the others.

 

Jesus says, “He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” (v. 3b)

 

And then when the disciples still didn’t understand him, Jesus tries again. This time, he talks about the sheep who have followed the shepherd into the high pasture. There isn’t a gatekeeper there. It’s just the shepherd and the flock. And whatever dangers or threats they encounter along the way. Gathering his sheep within the rustic fold when night falls, the shepherd now literally becomes the gate, protecting them, keeping them safe and warding off any intruders or threats.

 

Jesus says, “I am the gate for the sheep.” (v. 7) and then just a few verses later, he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (v. 11)

 

The shepherd isn’t only a caretaker or a companion. 

The shepherd is the one who 

leads the sheep to refreshment and nourishment; 

protects the sheep from enemies or evil,

laying down his life that the sheep may find rest and peace. 

 

That is Jesus for us.

He leads us through life and invites us into stillness.

Jesus guides our steps and waits on us to follow him.

And Jesus, in his death on the cross, literally laid down his life for us.

In dying and in rising, 

Jesus assures us that death does not get the last word. 

God is always going ahead of us, leading us and protecting us.

 

Guite, who I mentioned earlier, wrote the following poem as he reflected on Jesus being the Gate or Door to the Sheepfold: [I]

 

Not one that’s gently hinged or deftly hung,

Not like the ones you planed at Joseph’s place,

Not like the well-oiled openings that swung

So easily for Pilate’s practiced pace,

Not like the ones that closed in Mary’s face

From house to house in brimming Bethlehem,

Not like the one that no man may assail,

The dreadful curtain, The forbidding veil

That waits your breaking in Jerusalem.

 

Not one you made but one you have become:

Load-bearing, balancing, a weighted beam

To bridge the gap, to bring us within reach

Of your high pasture. Calling us by name,

You lay your body down across the breach,

Yourself the door that opens into home.

 

I love two parts of those verses especially. First is that Jesus calls each one of us by name, and second is that, as Guite writes, Jesus is “the door that opens into home.” 

 

Naming is a powerful way of showing someone they are seen and known and loved, and welcoming someone provides belonging.

 

In a few minutes we will baptize Alejandro David and Leonardo Saúl, naming them beloved children of God. 

Alongside their parents and godparents, we will make promises to support them and pray for them in their new lives in Christ. 

And we will welcome them into the family of God. 

 

My prayer for Ale and Leo is that they will always make their home in God’s love and find Grace a place of belonging and welcome.

 

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus, our Lord and Savior, 

Who calls us by name and welcomes us home, into your love.

Help us always hear your voice and follow you.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

[i] Malcolm Guite. ‘I Am The Door Of The Sheepfold’. https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/tag/sheepfold/, accessed 4/25/26.

Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:13-35
Acts 2:14, 36 - 41
1 Peter 1:17-23

For all of us who appreciate measured, linear timelines, 
consider this fair warning:
today’s texts suspend time. 
They also have us listening in on intimate conversations, 
hearing speeches 
and reading someone else’s mail. 
 
The gospel takes place on Easter evening, 
on the way to a village outside Jerusalem, 
before the resurrection appearances that we heard about last Sunday in John’s Gospel. 
For us today on the third Sunday of Easter, 
we need to re-locate ourselves in time, 
back to that first night, on the Day of Resurrection.
 

On that Easter evening, 
Jesus appears to two of his followers
who are walking along and talking 
about what they had heard and seen earlier in the day. 
When Jesus joins them, they don’t recognize him, 
but they’re friendly, and they talk with him.
 
What catches my attention first is that they speak with someone, 
whom they think is a stranger, about the day’s events. 
 
I wonder, why were they free to move about, 
to travel 
and to talk openly? 
when John tells us 
other disciples were hiding behind locked doors, 
afraid to be overheard or seen?
 
Luke tells us that as the two continue along their way, 
still oblivious to who Jesus is, 
he interprets the scriptures to them. 
 
I don’t know about you, but when I meet someone I don’t know, 
I ask questions, like
what’s your name? 
where are you from? 
who might we know in common? 
 
But if the two asked any questions, Luke doesn’t tell us. 
All Luke says is that they listen to Jesus teach, and 
they still don’t recognize him.
 
The two urge Jesus, who appears to plan to continue his journey, 
to stop and stay with them and they invite him to share their meal.
 
And it’s there, in the meal, 
as Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it and gives it to them, that at last, they recognize him.
 
As quickly as we learn that they know who Jesus is, 
Luke tells us he vanishes from them.
 
While we know that isn’t the end of the story, all Luke tells us today is that the two return to Jerusalem and testify to the other disciples, telling them what had happened.

 
The lectionary reading from Acts is part of Peter’s speech following the events of Pentecost, 
events we haven’t reached yet in our Easter season but, in short, Peter is addressing his fellow Jews and contrasting the human actions that crucified Christ and the divine actions by God that raised him from death. 
 
We hear members of the crowd interrupt Peter, 
asking him and the other apostles, 
“What should we do?”
 
While the two in Emmaus recognized Jesus as Lord in the meal that they shared, 
here in Jerusalem, 
it is as if the crowd’s ears are finally able to hear the truth, 
or perhaps, as in Paul’s story of conversion later in Acts, 
scales fall from their eyes, and they see clearly now that 
Jesus is Lord and Messiah. (see Acts 9:18)

 
The epistle we have for today is also attributed to Peter. In it, the author is writing to churches in Asia Minor – what is modern day Turkey - churches that were planted during Peter’s missionary journeys there. 

 
Like Paul’s letters, this letter would have been circulated among the faith communities there. Its message is that “Believers have reasons for hope… because Christ is raised and living, and God is at work in the world.” (“Summary of First Peter”, enterthebible.org, Luther Seminary) A little earlier in the letter, the author tells the churches to prepare for action, because of the grace Christ brings. (v. 13)
  
Throughout these Scriptures we hear Jesus is Lord and Messiah, 
and we hear how he is on the move.
 

The disciples in Emmaus, the crowds in Jerusalem and the churches in Asia Minor didn’t keep the Good News of the Risen Christ to themselves, or we wouldn’t be here today 
to celebrate that Jesus is risen and alive. 
 
In the same way, 
we are being called to testify to the ways God is still at work 
in the world through Christ, and through the Church,
and we are being called to follow Jesus into new places, 
and new ways of being community. 
 
Resurrection faith remembers what God has already done in Christ and sets our hope in God’s ongoing work in, through and among us, today and into the future.
 
Let us pray.
Holy God, 
Thank you for Jesus, our Lord and Messiah,
for his saving grace for each of us,
and for the ways he meets us where we are 
and urges us to new places, 
and new ways of being Your people.
Open our ears to hear Your Word and follow Jesus where he leads.
We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen. 

El Segundo Domingo de Pascua

Juan 20:19-31

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean agradables a tus ojos, Señor, nuestra fortaleza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

El viernes por la noche, desde mi sala, vi cómo los cuatro astronautas a bordo de la cápsula Orión amerizaban en el Océano Pacífico, a unas millas de la costa de California. Con su regreso seguro a la Tierra, ellos y sus compañeros completaron el primer vuelo tripulado a la Luna desde mil novecientos setenta y dos.

No recuerdo el programa espacial original. El primer alunizaje del Apolo fue en mil novecientos sesenta y nueve, el año anterior a mi nacimiento. Escuché las grabaciones de audio y vi las imágenes del alunizaje del Apolo Once cuando lo estudié en la escuela o visité el Museo Nacional del Aire y el Espacio en Washington, D.C.

Vi la explosión del transbordador espacial Challenger en mil novecientos ochenta y seis y, como cualquier persona que recuerde esa tragedia, contuve la respiración mientras veía el exitoso lanzamiento de la nave espacial Artemis Dos a principios de este mes.

En la Costa Espacial de Florida y en otros lugares, la gente se reunió para “fiestas de observacion” para ver el lanzamiento, como hacemos con los eclipses solares y los fuegos artificiales. Durante esos pocos minutos, nos unimos, compartiendo la alegría por el éxito de la colaboración y la innovación que habia ocurrido, la ilusión por el futuro y el suspiro colectivo que exhalamos cuando la nave espacial desapareció de la vista sin que se produjeran problemas aparentes.

Y sin embargo, hay quienes no creen que el programa espacial sea real. Dicen que los alunizajes nunca ocurrieron. Piensan que los relatos de audio y video fueron montados, como en u set de una película.

Están llenos de incredulidad y no se dejan convencer con la verdad.

Ciertamente, la historia puede revisarse y los eventos importantes pueden exagerarse o minimizarse según la perspectiva de quien los cuenta,

pero yo nunca he dudado de estos relatos. He visto las pruebas. Tenemos grabaciones de audio, fotografías y grabaciones de televisión,

tenemos los testimonios de primera mano de los propios astronautas, testigos de todo lo sucedido.

Lo cual me lleva al evangelio de hoy.

Es el mismo evangelio que escuchamos cada año en este segundo domingo de Pascua, y aunque se le ha llamado erróneamente la historia de “Tomás el incrédulo”, creo que es una historia sobre la creer.

Juan el Evangelista nos cuenta que, tras la resurrección de Jesús, los discípulos estaban encerrados en una casa por miedo a los líderes religiosos que habian matado a Jesùs.

Cuando Jesús, resucitado, se les apareció allí,

sin que las puertas cerradas lo detengan,

y les dice: “La paz sea con ustedes”.

Jesús les mostró las heridas en sus manos y en su costado, y luego repitió su promesa, diciendo, “La paz sea con ustedes” por segunda vez.

Cuando todo esto sucede, Tomás no está presente. Quizás recuerden a Tomás de un pasaje anterior del evangelio de Juan. Está con los demás discípulos cuando Jesús les dice que pronto se irá, y cuando Jesús les afirma que ellos saben el camino al lugar al que va, Tomás interviene diciendo: “Señor, no sabemos a dónde vas. ¿Cómo podemos saber el camino?”. (14:4-5)

Tomás es uno de los discípulos que no teme hablar con franqueza ni hacer preguntas.

Nunca llegamos a saber dónde estuvo Tomás la semana anterior. Es importante destacar que no estuvo encerrado. Quizás estaba recogiendo provisiones.

Quizás estaba tomando una siesta en algún lugar. Quizás estaba escuchando lo que la gente en las calles de Jerusalén decía sobre los recientes acontecimientos.

No podemos saberlo. Lo que Juan sí nos dice es que cuando Tomás oye el relato de los otros discípulos, quiere ver las mismas pruebas que ellos vieron.

Y Jesús se las muestra. No lo regaña ni lo castiga por pedir lo que los demás ya han recibido. En cambio, Jesús lo invita a convertirse en pistos, es decir, uno que cree.

Y en este evangelio, creer no es un asentimiento intelectual. Es relación.

Jesús invita a Tomás a una relación más profunda con él, y Tomás responde: «¡Señor mío y Dios mío!» (20:28).

Y, por supuesto, la historia de Tomás no termina allí, en Jerusalén.

La tradición cristiana dice que el apóstol Tomás viajó a lo que hoy es Turquía, donde fundó la Iglesia del Oriente, que luego se extendió a la India, el sur de Asia y el Medio Oriente.

Reflexionando sobre la historia de Tomás, ¿podemos escuchar la invitación de Jesús a una relación más profunda con él?

¿Podemos responder a Jesús, como lo hizo Tomás, con nuestras vidas, con nuestras manos y con nuestros pies para servirle?

¿Podemos compartir quién es nuestro Señor y Salvador y por qué “Jesús ha resucitado” no es solo una frase para el Domingo de Pascua, sino todos los días?

¿Podemos decirles a los demás por qué es importante que aquel a quien Dios envió para traer la salvación al mundo venció la muerte y a los poderes y principados de este mundo para darnos vida a todos nosotros?

Hemos escuchado a los testigos y, en diferentes momentos de nuestro mundo y de nuestras vidas, hemos sido testigos del poder de Dios.

¿Qué más necesitamos para proclamar y vivir con Jesús como nuestro Señor y Salvador?

Oremos.

Dios bueno y misericordioso,
te damos gracias por tu Hijo Jesús,
nuestro Señor y Salvador.
Danos el valor de Tomás para hacer preguntas
y para ser discípulos que respondan con sus vidas
para servirte.
Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.
Amén.

John 20:19-31

Friday night I watched from my living room as the four astronauts aboard the Orion capsule splashed down into the Pacific Ocean a few miles off the coast of California. With their safe return to Earth, they and their colleagues completed the first crewed flight to the moon since 1972.
 
I have no memory of the original space program. The first Apollo landing was in 1969, the year before I was born.  I heard the audio recordings and saw the visual images from the Apollo 11 lunar landing when I studied it in school or visited the Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC.
 
I watched the Challenger space shuttle explode in 1986 and, like anyone else who remembers that tragedy, I held my breath while I watched the Artemis II spacecraft successfully launch earlier this month.
 
On the Space Coast of Florida and in other places, people gathered for “watch parties”, like we do for solar eclipses and fireworks. For those few minutes, we were united, sharing our joy at the success of the collaboration and innovation that had happened, our excitement for the future, and the collective breath we exhaled when the spacecraft soared out of sight and no obvious problems occurred.
 
And yet, there are people who do not believe that the space program is real. They say the lunar landings never happened. They think the audio and visual accounts were staged, like a movie set. They are filled with disbelief and cannot be convinced of the truth.
 
Certainly, history can be revised, and important events can be exaggerated or diminished depending on the perspective of the person telling the story,
but I have never doubted these accounts. I have seen the evidence. We have audio recordings, photographs and television broadcast footage,
we have the first-hand accounts of the astronauts themselves, witnesses to all that happened.
 
Which brings me to today’s gospel.
 
It’s the same gospel we hear every year on this second Sunday of Easter and while it has been misnamed the story of “Doubting Thomas”, I think it is a story about believing.
 
John the Evangelist tells us that following Jesus’ resurrection, the disciples were locked in a house because they were afraid of the religious leaders who had killed Jesus
when the risen Jesus appears to them there,
undeterred by the locked doors, 
and saying, “Peace be with you”.
Jesus shows them the wounds on his hands and in his side and then repeats his assurance, saying “Peace be with you” a second time.
 
When all this takes place, Thomas is not there. You may remember Thomas from earlier in John’s gospel. He is with the other disciples when Jesus tells them he will be leaving them, and when Jesus says they know the way to the place where he is going, Thomas speaks up, saying, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” (14:4-5)
Thomas is one disciple who isn’t afraid to speak directly and ask questions.
 
We never do learn where Thomas was the previous week. Importantly, he was not behind locked doors. Maybe he was gathering provisions. Maybe he was taking a nap somewhere. Maybe he was listening to what people on the streets of Jerusalem were saying about the recent events.
 
We can’t know. What John does tell us is that when Thomas hears the report of the other disciples, he wants to see the same evidence they saw.
 
And Jesus shows him. He doesn’t scold Thomas or chastise him for asking for what the others have already received. Instead, Jesus invites him to become pistos - one who believes.
 
And in this gospel, belief isn’t intellectual assent. It is relationship.
 
Jesus invites Thomas into a deeper relationship with him, and Thomas responds with, “My Lord and my God!” (20:28)
 
And, of course, Thomas’ story doesn’t end there in Jerusalem.  Christian tradition says that the apostle Thomas traveled to modern-day Turkey where he began the Church of the East which then spread to India, southern Asia, and the Middle East.
 
Reflecting on Thomas’ story this way, can we hear Jesus’ invitation to deeper relationship with him for ourselves?
 
Can we respond to Jesus, like Thomas did, with our lives and with our hands and feet to serve him?
 
Can we share who our Lord and Savior is and why “Jesus is Risen” isn’t just something to say on Easter Sunday, but every day?
 
Can we tell others why it matters that the one whom God sent to bring salvation to the world defeated death and the powers and principalities of this world to bring life to us all?
 
We have heard the witnesses and at different times in our world and our lives, we ourselves have witnessed God’s power.
What more do we need to proclaim and live with Jesus as our Lord and Savior?
 
Let us pray.
Good and gracious God,
We give you thanks for your Son Jesus,
our Lord and Savior.
Give us the courage of Thomas to ask questions
And to be disciples who respond with our lives
to serve you.
We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.

Easter Sunday

Matthew 28:1-10

Acts 10:34-43

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

(Christ is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!)

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our risen Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

As throughout his Gospel, Matthew’s resurrection story proclaims God’s power in Jesus

as the One who fulfills Scripture

and comes into the world as the Messiah.

He tells this part of the story in a way that emphasizes God’s triumph.  God has booted death out of the world. (Skinner, WP)

In the resurrection, God defeated the powers-that-be who sought to make a crucified man

executed by Roman authorities 

a nobody.

They tried to silence their enemies and, instead, the story of his death and resurrection has endured for more than two millennia.  (Skinner, WP)

 

Matthew tells us the women who saw the stone rolled away were filled with fear, but also with great joy when they heard the angel’s declaration that Jesus was not there.

He invites them to come and see, and then to go and tell.

And they did!

They ran to tell the other disciples the world-changing news that they had seen and heard.

“That first announcement to the disciples became a continuous chain of announcements with one messenger repeating the message to the next, down through the ages.” (Jacobson, WP)

We can imagine their words to their friends:

“Alleluia! Christ is Risen!”

(Christ is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!) 

Instead of the despair of death,

the empty tomb prompts our praise and worship

of God’s saving power,

and as always,

our salvation - God’s saving action for us - invites our response:

to follow Jesus, to listen to him and be obedient to him.

As disciples or followers of Jesus, our obedience is our response to the Good News that we are God’s own children, saved by grace, through Christ.

In Acts, Peter retells the story of these last three days and reminds us that when the disciples went to Galilee and met Jesus after the resurrection, Jesus commanded them to preach and testify, telling everyone about Jesus and the forgiveness of sins that we receive through his name.

The Great Commission to his disciples is: 

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. 

Our Lenten theme here at Grace was “Listen Up”.

As we heard the gospel stories of Jesus in the wilderness, Nicodemus, the woman at the well, the man born blind, and Lazarus, we listened for what God was saying to and through each of them.

We reflected on how they encountered God

and how it changed them.

We listened for what God was saying to each of us

through their stories.

On Wednesdays, gathered in the fellowship hall,

we shared our stories of faith

and how we are changed by God’s transformational love for us.

And then during this Holy Week,

on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday,

we listened again to the words of Jesus,

first commanding his disciples to love one another,

and then speaking to us from the cross.

 

Today we celebrate that Jesus is Risen and

like the disciples who witnessed his resurrection,

we are invited to go and tell others what God has done.

 

Tell others how God has worked in your life,

to bring new understanding;

Tell how God has seen you

when you have felt cast out or overlooked;

 

Tell how you have witnessed God’s healing

in body or spirit;

 

Tell how you have witnessed God restore

relationships and belonging in a community;

 

Or tell how you are waiting on God,

trusting in the promise that Jesus gives us in the Great Commission,

that he is with us “to the very end of the age.”

 

God commands us to be God’s witnesses to the world.

This Easter and always,

let God’s love be shown and God’s name be known through you.

Let us pray.

Risen and Living God,

Thank you for the salvation

we receive through Your Son Jesus.

Show us how to be witnesses to your love

And tell others how your love for us changes us.

Send us out to go and tell

That everyone would know

your abundant grace and mercy.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.