Fourth Sunday of Easter

John 10:11-18

In today’s gospel, we walk in on a conversation that has already begun. It’s like entering a play halfway through the first act, or arriving at a ball game sometime in the second quarter.

In the previous chapter of John, Jesus healed a blind man and the Jewish religious leaders were investigating the healing which had happened on the Sabbath. They questioned the man’s neighbors and parents and the man himself. They were suspicious both of the man who was healed and of Jesus.

Before we get to today’s reading, Chapter 10 begins with Jesus talking to those same Pharisees – the ones who had been examining the circumstances of the man’s healing. Echoing language used throughout Hebrew Scripture to describe both kings and Yahweh, Jesus drew a picture of a sheepfold and shepherds, and then contrasted thieves and bandits, strangers and even a hired hand to the good shepherd. His audience would have understood that he was accusing the Pharisees of failing to care for the people entrusted to them. They had not been trustworthy watchmen, they had not protected the people against evildoers, and they had become strangers to the people entrusted to their care.

In stark contrast, Jesus says in verse 11, “I am the Good Shepherd.”  And then he describes the ways that the relationship we have with the Good Shepherd, with God, is different from our human relationships. Remember, in John to believe in God is to know God and be in relationship with God. Faith and following Jesus is always about the relationship with the Holy or Divine who knows us as children of God.

Jesus says that his sheep know Him and listen to His voice; he tells his listeners that the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep and then he says, “I have other sheep too, that do not belong to this fold.” (verse 16)

As much comfort as we draw from our traditions and rituals, it is Good News that there are other sheep, that God is ever increasing the size of the sheepfold. God’s love, and so, God’s kingdom, is broader and more abundant than we can understand. 

Over the past year our congregation and others have learned that the Church – the capital-C Church – is not a building. It had been said before but quarantining and worshiping apart meant we have had to learn new ways to be the Church. One of the gifts of this year is we have discovered how to worship alongside beloveds in Pennsylvania, New York, Texas and Washington. Another is that we pray together from wherever we are when the daily prayer text arrives. A third is the witness of love and relationship shared in care packages with members on the prayer list.

As we resume more traditional ways of being Church, it is important to remember that we are one flock with one Shepherd (v. 16) and ask, “Who’s missing?” and “Why?”

One of the hardest things a person can do is walk into a church. There are lots of reasons people stay away from churches. Sometimes those reasons reflect a broken relationship with God. Sometimes it’s about the style of worship. But more often, the reasons are rooted in their experience of the people who are in churches. They, or someone they love, have been criticized, mocked or scorned for their appearance. They have been told they are not loved or loveable. They have been coldly ignored or smothered with attention and embarrassed. They have been made to feel like they were out of place because they didn’t have children, or because they weren’t married. Or worse, they’ve been told they don’t belong or aren’t welcome.

When we church people fail to love in the ways that the Good Shepherd loves us, we hurt people and a wounded person doesn’t often risk that kind of hurt happening again. Left outside the gate or to the wolves, they go someplace else.

But in the words of Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry, “Everybody is God’s somebody.”[i] Being one flock means that we are not whole or complete until the people who are missing are welcomed as children of God, sheep of the same shepherd.

So what are ways we can welcome all those whom God loves?

When we decided to resume indoor worship, we also decided to continue livestreaming worship. While COVID remains a concern, we also realized that, for some of God’s children, there are real barriers to physically attending worship in our building. Livestreaming means our whole flock can be together.

A couple of times during drive-in worship neighbors crossing the property stopped and listened to worship, even participating in communion on Easter morning. It was awesome to watch new people drawn in but now it also makes me wonder how moving indoors may leave some of God’s children outside the gate and vulnerable to the wolves and what we might do about it.

So, I invite you to carry the question, “Who is missing and why?” with you as you leave worship.

God’s love is infinite; it isn’t a zero sum game where inviting more people into the relationship means there’s less love or grace for those of us who are already here. So how might  our lives – our everyday words and actions, as well as our Sunday worship and prayers – tell others, “There is plenty of room for all of God’s children”?

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your abundant love and mercy,
for your watchfulness and protection, and for your care.
Thank you for Son Jesus who lays down his life for all of your children.
Show us how to love so that everyone would know that they are somebody to you.
We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.

[i] Presiding Bishop Michael Curry preaching during Compline, April 20, 2021. The Episcopal Church in Minnesota.

Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:36b-48 

Because we read the different resurrection appearances to the disciples across the weeks that follow Easter morning, it’s easy to forget that this story from Luke, and the one we heard last week from John, are all set on that first day, the same day the women had found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. 

Now late in the evening of that first Easter, the disciples are together, talking about the day’s events - events we haven’t heard about in the assigned texts. First Jesus appeared to two other disciples as they walked to the village Emmaus some seven miles away, but they did not recognize him until he took bread, blessed it , broke it and gave it to them, and then Luke says that Jesus appeared to Simon Peter. 

And here Jesus appears again. Following the same instructions that he gave his disciples when he sent them out in pairs in Luke 10 (and in Matthew 10), he offers a greeting of peace and stands among them. And Luke tells us they are startled and terrified.

Even though he had told them three times already how the Messiah would be betrayed by human hands, be killed and be raised again. (Luke 9:21-22, 9:43-44, 18:31-33) The truth Jesus had revealed remained hidden from them.

Even though at least three of them saw Jesus earlier in the day. It was easier to believe they were seeing things or that Jesus was a ghost. They could not yet trust that the resurrection was real.

So Jesus shows them his hands and his feet and how he is flesh and bone, and not imaginary or a phantom, and then he does what he had done again and again throughout his ministry in Galilee: he eats with them. Luke removes any doubt about the reality of the resurrection. Watching Jesus eat in front of them gives the disciples, and all of us who are hearing this account, physical proof to allay any doubts or suspicions that linger.

Eating the disciples’ leftovers, Jesus shows them that he is the same man who took five loaves and two fish, blessed them and broke them and gave them to the crowds, feeding five thousand men. (Luke 9) He is the same man they knew in the breaking of the bread, on the night he was arrested. (Luke 22). The same man who they had heard about from the women, from Cleopas and his companion and from Simon Peter. 

Jesus lives and they are witnesses to his resurrection.

There’s a second reason for Jesus to eat with the disciples though. All through Luke’s gospel, Jesus demonstrates a wide welcome as he gathers people around him in table fellowship, eating with tax collectors and sinners (Luke 5:30, 15:1-2), breaking taboos and including outsiders in the meal. (Nissen, 57) And now he includes the disbelievers, the ones who are wondering, and the ones who are afraid. 

I would guess that “disbelieving, wondering and afraid” describe each one of us at some point in our lives, so it is good news that Jesus doesn’t leave anybody out.

Instead, Jesus meets us where we are and invites us into relationship as we are. We follow Jesus with our whole selves. Even in our joy at being in the sanctuary or hearing the organ resonating today, we wonder why God doesn’t stop the violence that has killed innocent people in places like Rock Hill and Indianapolis. Or where God is when we are angry or disappointed because something in our lives has gone horribly wrong and we feel utterly alone. Or we struggle to believe even though we’ve heard the Word spoken, and we’ve seen God in events in our lives because, sometimes, as the disciples experienced, the truth of God’s love, forgiveness and redemption seems too good to be real. 

Jesus doesn’t cast out the disciples or turn away from them when they show their disbelief, wonder or fear. As St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength (1Cor. 1:25) God knows us and knows we are works in progress. We cannot redeem ourselves by our own merit or understanding; we cannot save ourselves or be made righteous apart from Christ. “Works in progress” are, by definition, unfinished, still developing. They aren’t deficient or flawed; they’re simply not yet complete. God makes us complete in Christ. 

The Good News today is that Jesus lives and because he lives, we live, with both our wondering and our joy. 

We live, with both our disbelief and our worship. 

We live, with both our fears and our confidence in God’s love for us.

Today, Jesus invites us to celebrate being in relationship with the living Lord, who sees us and knows us fully and completely.

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus whose life, death and resurrection are the foundation for our faith and life with You.
Thank you for your abundant grace that you forgive us even when we cannot see You are with us or we forget your Word and promises.
Stand among us and give us your peace so that we may be your witnesses in a world that does not know peace.
We pray in the name of our risen Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.
Amen.

Easter Sunday

Mark 16:1-8

What do you think the women carried that morning?

They had watched from a distance as Jesus breathed his last breath (Mk. 15:37) and knew his body had been taken down from the crucifix and placed into the tomb. They had been discussing how to move the heavy stone that would have sealed the tomb’s entrance. They were expecting to find his remains, his body.

Scripture says they brought spices, and reference books tell us it probably was a mix of myrrh and aloes that they intended to use to anoint the body of Jesus. Myrrh is used in anointing and liniments, and aloe would have masked the odor of decay. But I wonder what else they carried. Maybe some kind of salve to moisten his parched lips. Maybe a clean towel to wash his feet or wipe away the blood where the soldiers had pierced his side? Would they have laid anything at the tomb when they were finished? Flowers or a marker of some kind? This was their beloved teacher and friend after all.

Imagine those are the thoughts the women are having when they arrive at the tomb, figuring out what they need to do and in what order and how best they can honor this person whom they loved.

And then they see the stone has already been moved. I wonder about the surprise or strangeness of that discovery, but Mark doesn’t give us any indication that they were wary, suspicious or tentative. Maybe they just felt relief that there was no obstacle keeping them from their Jesus now.

Of course, everything changes when they enter the tomb.

Instead of their beloved, they find a young man who immediately tells them that Jesus is risen and has gone ahead of them. As if they didn’t hear him clearly, he repeats himself two more times, assuring them that Jesus is not there and the tomb is truly empty.

Have you ever been shocked into silence, astonished and perplexed?

The terror and amazement that the women at the empty tomb felt wasn’t the heavy dread that we have felt collectively at times of national distress, the heart-clenching fear you experience when you confront a phobia like snakes or heights, or even the spine-tingling fear brought on by reading Steven King in an empty house in the wee hours of the morning.

Instead, this fear – this terror or amazement that seized the women - came from witnessing something unexpected, miraculous and beyond their understanding.

Mark describes this same kind of amazement and terror after other miracles throughout his gospel.

When Jesus stilled the sea, his disciples were filled with awe (Mk. 4:41) and when he healed the hemorrhaging woman and revived the young girl, the people with him were amazed (Mk. 5:33).Then the people were afraid when they saw how he healed the Gerasene demoniac (Mk. 5:15) and the disciples were terrified when Jesus walked on water at the sea of Gennesaret. (Mk. 6:50)

Each time the power of God is made visible in Jesus we see the people react with this awe – this terror and amazement.

The women had seen Jesus die. They fully expected to find his body in the tomb and they were gobsmacked when he wasn’t there.

Wouldn’t you be, too? (pause)

According to Mark, the amazed and terrified women fled the tomb and said nothing to anyone. But we figure they must have said something to someone eventually though or we wouldn’t be here today to celebrate that Christ is risen.

Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of Man, rose and went ahead of Mary Magdalene, Mary mother of James, Salome and all of his disciples, to Galilee. He didn’t go back into Jerusalem, to the palace or to Pilate; he didn’t go to the temple or the courtyard of the high priest. He went to Galilee, to his homeplace, the same familiar towns and villages where he had spent all of his years of ministry and the place where he had healed the sick, driven out demons and taught how much God so loved the world.

The Easter story tells us that Christ is risen and goes ahead of us into the world where we live every day. We don’t have to move gigantic rocks to find him. He isn’t hiding. Jesus invites us to see him in ordinary and unremarkable places. The places we call home, the streets of our community, the nursing homes and the hospital. The places where we work and live. The places where we find our friends and the people who have known us forever.

God invites us to live in a world where Christ is alive. Instead of preparing for death like the women approaching the tomb, we are called to new life. This Easter morning – and every Sunday when we celebrate the Resurrection - we encounter Jesus in Word and in Sacrament. In place of spices and oils that cover up sin and death, God offers us forgiveness and mercy and takes away the sin of the world, inviting us to take up the cross instead. Again and again, Christ goes before us and calls us to follow him.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.

Maundy Thursday

Mark 14:22-25

Maundy Thursday is named after the command or mandatum that Jesus gives to his disciples. When you read John’s account of the last night that Jesus spent with his disciples, you witness him tie a towel around his waist and wash the feet of his friends and then you hear Jesus say,

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. (John 13:34 NRS)

There’s no foot washing or similar command in Mark’s gospel; instead, what we witness in Mark is the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup.

It is the image we see in DaVinci’s painting of the Last Supper, where the twelve disciples are gathered around Jesus at a banquet table.

And it is the loving action that we live out, again and again, when we gather for Holy Communion.

Later in tonight’s service, for the first time since we began worshiping together online more than a year ago, we will hear the words of institution that we hear in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and eat and drink, fully participating in this meal together.

The words “this is my body” remind us of the sacrifice Jesus makes for our sake, but the words “new covenant” remind us that the story doesn’t end with his death. In Christ, we are brought to new life and new relationship with God and with one another.

The meal is a visible expression of God’s love for us, the same love that Jesus speaks of when he is with his disciples. Through our participation, we become a community, called to follow Jesus and to love one another.

One of the astonishing things about this divine love is its inclusivity. As night falls, Jesus is with all twelve of his disciples. Judas is there with him. Judas ate at the table and had his feet washed by Jesus. One of the people who is closest to Jesus and then later betrays him is part of the beloved community Jesus forms here.

What that tells me is that even when sin takes hold of me ̶ when I am turned inward on myself, my resentments fester, or I put other idols before God ̶ even then, God welcomes me to the table. Adopted at baptism as a child of God, now God feeds me and nourishes me, and restores me to this new covenant relationship.

Throughout its history, religious people have tried to define who is clean and unclean, who is pious enough to earn God’s love, and whose actions disqualify them, costing them their seat at the Table. But Lutheranism teaches us that there is nothing we can do by our own merit or our own understanding to earn God’s love. Participation at the table is never about my worthiness, or yours.

It is about being in relationship with our God whose love for each and every one of us is seen in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, and heard in the words “given and shed for you.”

Let us pray…[i]
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus of Nazareth, the living Christ whose love shocks, surprises, and far exceeds our understanding.
Forgive me when I am like Judas— the one who betrayed him, the one who failed to see the good right in front of him, the one who might have thought he wasn’t worthy of your love.
Create in me a new heart and mind, one that can see and hear you more clearly when you tell me you love me.
In your Holy Name we pray,
Amen.

[i] Adapted from a prayer by Sarah Are | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.