Why Easter Matters

I suppose it’s only natural to think of Easter as a miracle; after all Christ’s rising from the dead is clearly within God’s realm. (John 20:1-9). But calling Easter a miracle excuses us from having anything further to do with it, since a miracle is God’s doing. We believe that God’s incarnation in Jesus and Jesus’ death and resurrection were for our salvation and benefit, not God’s, making Easter more a sacrament than a miracle. A sacrament, requires our participation for its existence. God performs miracles but men celebrate sacraments. God may work a miracle apart from men. However, man is essential to the presence of a sacrament.  

If Easter is to be a sacramental event, we must represent it for our fellow men, with our flesh and blood. Easter is sacramental every time one of us makes his life a source of light for another. Easter is sacramental when our words heal, when our hearts understand, when lesser values die in us for the sake of greater realities.

We are sacramental with Easter when men know us to be faithful. We are sacramental with Easter when our fellow men see us suffer not for selfish advantage but for their redemption. Easter is never more sacramental than when one man gives his life on behalf of another. Christians seek to make Easter sacramental in their lives by their memory of Jesus through their words and deeds.

John Calvin wrote that becoming Son of man with us, he made us sons of God with him; that by his descent to earth, he has prepared an ascent to heaven for us; that by taking on out mortality, he has conferred his immortality upon us; that accepting our weakness, he has strengthened us by his power; that receiving our poverty unto himself, he has transferred our wealth to us; that taking the weight of our iniquity upon himself (which oppressed us), he has clothed us with his righteousness. (Kruger, The Shack Revisited, p. 197)

Jesus became incarnate to not only teach us how to live our lives but to reside in Him through Jesus and lift us up into a life of communion, of participation in the very triune life of God. When we say “in him through him and with him” as we celebrate the Eucharist, we are reminded of our participation in his birth, death and resurrection. (Adapted from Dawn without Darkness, Anthony Padovano, p78)

 

The Spirit is Willing but the Flesh is Weak

He Suffered Under Pontius Pilate…

Daily experience shows us how difficult it is to stand up for those spiritual values to which we are committed even when we are at our best. Whenever we have to swim against the current or buck the trend we can relate to why Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate. St Paul reminds us that “Indeed, all who wish to live God-centered lives in Jesus Christ will suffer persecution.” (2 Titus 3:12)

Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, among others were punished and in some cases killed for standing up for their values.

For us no less than Jesus, history is the stage on which our spiritual convictions are put to the test. Jesus was executed by a domination system that is as powerful today as it was then. How do we in our everyday lives follow Jesus as we too stand up for our spiritual values and in our own way “suffer under Pontius Pilate?”

He Was Crucified…

 Jesus’ crucifixion is a matter of historical fact. He like so many “prophets” who represented threats as subversive to Jewish law and Roman authority, were subjected to murder by crucifixion.  Crucifixion was the corporal punishment of choice for political radicals, designed to kill the convicted and to send a powerful message to any followers, that his “reign” was ended. 

What then might be the spiritual implication of Jesus’ crucifixion for us? Perhaps this question is best found in our Creed, which professes that our faith in the incarnate, Jesus Christ, is one and the same with God. Our belief in Jesus who, in his humanity fully shared in God’s divine spirit, united us in Him through Him with Him.  Thus when we profess that God’s tangible presence in the world was crucified, we express our faith that we can encounter God in the most horrible circumstances. In the midst of crucifixion—a scene that seems to scream out God’s absence…God is present. There is never anything so terrible in life or death that prevents us from enduring it with the trust in God’s presence. There is no injustice, no pain, no catastrophe that prevents us from God’s enduring love. This has given to countless men and women of faith a sense of peace and comfort in the midst of their darkest hours. (Mark 14:1-15:47) (Adapted from Deeper than Words, Living the Apostles Creed, David Stendl-Rast).

The Hour Has Come for the Son of Man to Be Glorified

 

The good news in John 12:20-33 is that we are left with Jesus’ capacity to transform the world through us. The tiny grain of wheat falls to the earth, dies, is reborn and eventually bears much fruit. Through us, His Word is brought fully into the world, even by just one individual who touches those around him. They will be transformed, and the stories they in turn will tell, will transform others, continuing to work miracles in the lives of any who aspire to be Christ-centered for generations to come 

We are all connected in ways that we don't fully understand but in a world in which there are no coincidences, His Blessings are meted out in just the right dose and time. I know we are "lucky" to know this, and that luck has nothing to do with it? Yet, in giving myself permission to indulge in this "special knowledge," I pray that I am not giving myself too much credit and wallowing in self-gratification? Jesus is my personal mentor and my personal way to the Father. How dare I take so much of His Time? I want to believe that the more He gives, the more He wants me to take. To understand this in the context of our human nature and "good manners" and not feel "greedy" are not easy to reconcile.  
 

God does not want to be a part of, or at the periphery of our being; He wants to be centered in us as our sustenance. And if He is centered in us and we in Him, than we are inter-connected as one with the universe. Our interconnectedness as part of the Body of Christ in which we exist "with Him, in Him and through Him," comes alive in John's gospel, in which Jesus tells us that "I am the Bread of Life"...without which we will die.. 

Jesus went beyond superficial divisions and called for a culture of compassion…Compassion changes everything. Compassion heals. Compassion mends the broken and restores what has been lost. Compassion draws together those who have been estranged or never dreamed they were connected. Compassion pulls us out of ourselves and into the heart of another, placing us on holy ground where we instinctively take off our shoes and walk in reverence. Compassion springs out of vulnerability and triumphs in unity. . (Judy Cannato, Field of Compassion, P 8)

 

For God So Loved The World That He Gave His Only Son,

Considerable conflict existed among the “Jewish Christians” at the time of John’s writing this gospel (John 3: 14-21). Those Jews who as followers of Christ, were very likely dealing with the pain of having been thrown out of their synagogues and cut off from their families and friends. The very foundation and center of their lives were gone. When we experience that kind of painful rejection, it’s easy to fall into a way of thinking that is negative and size up everyone in terms of whether they’re for us or against us. John’s teachings helped them to reinforce a new sense of identity, they were still banished from the elements of society that was “home.” We can fast forward to our day and time, and relate to the unstable feelings brought about by loss of identity and exclusion.

But that should not obscure the gems of truth found in this text. It clearly affirms Gods’ unconditional love for the whole world. It also tells us something about the kind of response that love calls forth in us. In John’s Gospel, it’s called “doing the truth.” Our faith, our truth, our convictions are meant to be put into practice in our lives. But this is not something we learn to do like riding a bike…once you learn it you’ve got it. It’s more like learning a musical instrument. The skill must be constantly honed or it atrophies. You just don’t sit back at the piano and play as you did years ago, just because you did before. Like the piano, if you’re really committed to it, you’re always learning how to play better.

 I’ve been practicing my religion almost as long as I’ve practiced the piano. But practicing my faith as it is proscribed by Jesus, is relatively new. My piano is coming back slowly but not without effort. As for my faith, I’m still continually learning what it means to love God and love others. I’m still learning how to get beyond my own selfishness so that I can truly love the people around me. I still learning how to open myself so that the life and love of God can flow through me. I’m still learning to relate to the people around me with compassion, understanding, kindness, and mercy. And I hope that I never stop practicing.

This is My Beloved Son…Listen to Him

 

 

Do you remember when you first felt an undeniable prompt that called you to pursue a goal or an activity? I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to God's voice. While reference to "a calling" is commonly associated with clergy, we don’t often consider that we’re “called” to a career or a secular vocation or even volunteering. But, why not? I pose this question because the story of the Transfiguration (Mark 9:2-10) reminds us to listen to and look for God’s will in all we do. And just like the spectacular events of the transfiguration blinded Peter, James and John, we too can be distracted by the “noise.”

The scene moves very quickly as Peter in all his excitement is eager to do something to acknowledge this transformative event even before he knows what he has seen or has transpired. We feel like saying to Peter "Please be quiet and just listen before you do anything!" While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.”

Maybe everything started to become clear and make sense to Peter as he saw, listened and heard the word of God, but as we know too well, it didn't last very long. How many times did Jesus remind Peter of his destiny? Peter may hear but is he really listening? 

Perhaps Peter's transformation comes about when he repeatedly fails, falls, and is lifted up again. We too try our best and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. We, too, have moments of insight and moments of denial. We too, fall down in fear and are raised up again to go forth in confidence. Isn’t this the pattern that shapes the lives of every Christian? Don’t we identify with Peter? Don’t we see ourselves in this story? This story is as much about Peter and Jesus as it is about us as we are asked to listen and to hear his voice and know God’s will for us.

In these past weeks Luke has called our attention to Jesus’ humanity in which we share a common bond. In this week’s gospel, Luke reveals Jesus divinity. Just as we share in Jesus’ humanity, we also share in his divinity. We must listen as we are called and if we are to be transformed and become disciples of Jesus and to be the people of God.

“There have been quite a few times when I have felt the winds of God’s grace in the sails of my small boat. Sometimes these graces have moved me in pleasant and sunlit directions. At other times the requested acts of love were born in the darkness of struggle and suffering. There have been spring times and there have been long cold winters of struggle for survival. God has come to me at times with the purest kindness, at times with the most affirming encouragement, and at other times with bold frightening challenges. I think that all of us have to watch and pray, to be ready to say “yes” when God’s language is concrete and his request is specific-“yes” in the sunlit spring times and “yes’ in the darkness of winter nights.” (John Powell, S.J., The Christian Vision, The Truth That Sets Us Free, p147)

 

Our Jouney to the Cross

Lent is an important part of our journey. Each step we take has been walked at one time in the gospels. We know that this our spiritual journey begins in the desert and leads us to the cross and to a tomb and “ends” with Easter, where our journey to God begins again. In our readings for next Sunday, Mark1:12-15, the first Sunday in Lent, we are told that “Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.” What do these temptations or tests mean to us in our lives today? There are questions we answer with our lips, and those we answer with our lives.I have been fortunate to have travelled fairly extensively in my life, both for business and pleasure. Admittedly travelling is one of my passions, although in recent years I am more selective about my destination with regard to the risk to benefit associated with where and why I am travelling. Is the payoff worth the sacrifice?

Over the years I have observed that there are two types of journeymen. I would categorize these as being either tourists or travelers. The tourist travels through his journey in comfort, ensuring that his experiences are familiar and safe. He makes sure that he takes “his stuff” from back home with him. There are many vendors along the way who, for a price, would be willing to accommodate the tourist’s expectations and satisfy his needs, most of which are likely superficial and soon forgotten when he returns home armed with photos, souvenirs, and pleasant memories.

On the other hand, a traveler is one whose goal is to enjoy the journey as part of a total experience in which the destination is just a part of a continuum. He travels to open his mind and spirit to new experiences and perhaps delve into the unknown in the hope that something new will learned and be revealed. The difference between the traveler and the tourist is that the traveler becomes the experience while the tourist rides on the outside and looks in.

Last January, we took a trip to the Galapagos Islands; our primary goal was to savor the new learning experience as an expedition and be as totally involved as circumstances would permit. This required us to push our bodies safely beyond their accustomed limits, and leave our “comfort zones.” There were no cell phones, internet or TV and while our accommodations were relatively sparse, they were satisfactory. While this hardly could be called a luxurious vacation, it was one of the most exhilarating trips I’ve ever taken as we were living in the experience, absorbed by the journey… as an expedition, completely focused on the experience and unencumbered by distractions. The trip was one of personal transformation in which new perspectives on life and interests were born and still linger not just as memories but as building blocks for what might lie ahead.

Jesus’ time in the desert somehow relates to our journey as travelers, not just tourists. He leaves his comfort zone to prepare himself for what would was to come, while totally immersed and resisting anything that get in the way of his quest. So, as we begin Lent this Wednesday and follow Jesus into the desert, we are reminded that the purpose of our existence is to walk with Jesus on his journey and live in his experience and know the presence of God in our lives. There is a seed of desire in each of us, a fundamental motivation, a basic longing for the fulfillment of that purpose. Augustine tells us that ‘Thou has made us for thyself and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.’ Accordingly, we are not only born with God at our center, but we are born with a heart full desire for God. This yearning is our fundamental motive force; it is the human spirit. It is the energy behind everything we seek and aspire to. And if indeed we are in intimate union with God in the center, then the soul’s desire is God’s desire. The soul’s love for God is God’s love for the soul. (Gerald May, Dark Night of the Soul)

 

Lord, I know you can make me clean

If you had only four words to describe Jesus, what words would you choose? When we read the passage from Mark 1:40-45 assigned for this Sunday we not only find the message of his whole Gospel as well as what are Mark's four words.

Compassion: Mark doesn't often relate Jesus' psychological state, but he does here. When Jesus sees this man approach him in need, he is moved immediately to compassion. Not judgment: "What have you done to cause this to happen?" No, he just feels compassion. This is Jesus, the Word made flesh; the Son of God. This is God: not judgmental, or demanding, but compassionate.

Touch: There is an intimacy to touch that we can take for granted. Ask the elderly, the ill, the depressed, or the isolated just how rare and beautiful human touch is and we may be surprised (or maybe just reminded) that there are few gestures as profound, loving, and healing as human touch. Jesus could have healed with a word, with a gesture, or with a command, but instead he reaches out to touch him. Here, too, is God's character revealed, as we discover a God so eager to be in relationship with us that God takes on our form and flesh, assumes our lot and our life, so that God can reach out to touch us in love.

Willing: Jesus does more than simply respond to the man's plea; he affirms his deepest hopes that, though a leper, he still has value, dignity and worth. That he is, finally, a child of God. Here we are again confronted by God's often surprising and always uncontrollable mercy and grace.

Lonely: Make no mistake. These acts of mercy, while perhaps free, nevertheless cost Jesus. There is, an exchange going on here. This man, now healed, is also restored to his community, while Jesus can no longer travel freely or even enter the towns anymore. Love always costs something. We don't know why Jesus asked the man to be silent; maybe it’s the whole "Messianic secret" thing, but maybe it was because he knew this would make it difficult to walk and talk and preach and heal freely. Whatever the reason, and whatever the risk, he nevertheless heals, heedless of the cost. He trades places with this man -- losing his freedom that this man may find his -- out of love. Love costs. Ask any parent, or grandparent, or lover, or friend. Yet that is what we find in God.

So maybe one way to get at this text this week would be to think about the images we have of God. These images were often formed when we were children and are as part of our formative years, powerful and often unconscious things. What are the four words do we think best describe Jesus and God?  After naming and exploring these a bit, perhaps we could re-read Mark's words and the image that flows from there.

How are Mark's and our visions similar? How do they differ?  The point isn't to critique defective images of God  as to who really imagines God rightly but instead to keep affirming, keep offering, keep proclaiming an image of a God who is compassionate; reaches out to touch us in love; is so willing and eager to embrace us in healing, forgiveness, and grace; and eagerly embraces the pain and sin of the world out of love for us, for us and the whole wide world we live in .
(adapted from Dear Working Preacher, David Lose, Feb, 2012.)