Sermons
A Sunday school teacher once asked a question to her young students, “Do you know what a saint is?” One of the little girls thinking about the big stained glass windows in the church that depicted saints throughout the centuries, said “A saint is someone the light shines through.”
It's unlikely that the little one understood metaphor and theology in such a profound way. But she gave an eight-word sermon that morning without even realizing it.
Most importantly, God is present in the midst of it all. Present in the sorrow, with them in the lament, active in their rejoicing and celebration. God’s word–living and active–holds all of this, allows all of this. And when the time is right God transforms the entire encounter into an experience of joy.
“My words will not pass away” This is our zipline folks. This is when we jump off the ledge of the world we know and are carried off, being held by this enduring factor. The word made flesh that lives within us and sustains us through our most apocalyptic moments and stirs within us holy anticipation of what is to come: The kindom of heaven.
Are you rich? If a child asked that of an adult after stepping into their home or onto their boat, their parent would probably quickly try to shhhh them and redirect the conversation or apologize. It’s not polite to talk to others about their wealth. But we sure are fascinated by it, aren’t we? No matter how well off we might be on our own, we are drawn to what other people have that we don’t. A home, owning a home instead of renting, owning a bigger home, owning two homes. Or cars, boats, vacations, the newest gadgets, or electronics. Maybe its just part of our human nature (or American nature) to want more. To long for something better. To yearn for what we do not have.
But it’s radical, too. We are initiating our children into a counter-cultural way of life. We are committing ourselves anew to a different kind of greatness. One that finds its purpose in serving others. One that sees the face of God in those the world excludes. One that acknowledges that life is full of heartache, loss, and suffering. One that stands with others in their pain or questions or grief.
There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with the rules we set up, arbitrary as some of them might seem. Some rules are actually quite helpful and not arbitrary at all - like wearing a face mask in order to protect our neighbors. But I’m wondering about the rules that we establish - idolize even - that might get in the way of what really matters.
Jesus shows us that God is not in the fix-it business. God is in the resurrection business. Where we see limitation and lack, Jesus sees abundance. May we trust the work of God that breathed life into the moon and stars. Who pulses the heart in your chest, even while you sleep. Who sent planets and galaxies spinning into motion… All out of nothing. Newness is coming and God is here.
A “to be” list starts with grace. You are of worth. Simply for who you are. And Christ the shepherd is not like the other power-hungry leaders. He breaks down the walls that divide us. And gives us courage to vulnerable with ourselves and one another. The Risen Christ sees your loneliness. Your stress. Your longings. And looks with compassion on you and all the needy of this world.
We may not turn into prophets like John or Amos, but we are ordinary people called to deliver an extraordinary message. In the letter to the Ephesians read today, Paul names the new believers as God’s blessed, God’s chosen and God’s adopted children. It's kind of like a pep talk that coaches give to their players just before sending them back into the game that seems like a lost cause. Yet we are sent back into the game after worship each week to proclaim God’s inbreaking reign to all the powers that profess to rule this world. And we do not do it alone. God loves us enough in our brokenness to entrust us to be the body of Christ in the world. To share God’s love and light with others and to receive that same love and light through others when we need it most.
Sometimes life is too much. Yet the scriptures give us freedom to lament, and grieve, and question where God is in it all. The traumas and trials of life are part of what it means to be fragile human beings. Yet somehow, we still proclaim, we still sing: Great is your faithfulness. Your mercies are new every morning. Every day is a gift! And that truly is too much. Too much beauty and grace for us even to take in.
The story of these two healings, leading up to the cross and resurrection, teaches us that in this world of now and not yet, God’s promises still prevail. Community will replace our isolation. Abundance, not scarcity, will be a reality. Miracles that are incomplete will be completed. And even in the face of death, God brings new life – to us and to all of creation.
Would you be willing to be on the lookout this week--maybe this entire summer--and share when you experience God’s reign of extravagant, wild, out of control grace being shared. Where are the places you see hope coming to life among death and fear? When do you sense God at work in the world? Let’s help each other see what Jesus was helping his disciples to see, that God comes among us in the unexpected, that the reign of God is made known in the mystery of Christ among us.
I know intimately and well, maybe you do too, the hunger to belong, to have someone safe and loving to belong to. We know what it’s like to yearn for someone who can hold all of who we are, and love us still, without flinching. That is exactly what Jesus does for the crowds that day. He invites them in, their whole selves, with their flaws and hurts fully exposed and he asks them to stay, and he makes them family. So, stop hiding. Come out come out wherever you are! Jesus—the gardener, the healer, the one who loves you fully, without flinching, welcomes you into his family.
The Holy Trinity is mysterious, and this place Holy Trinity will always be synonymous with mystery to me. And It’s precisely because of this openness to the mystery that we can be bold to learn about and dismantle racism together even when it implicates us, we can be bold to provide our confirmation students and our Life Together catechumens an opportunity to ask questions without trying to appease them with easy answers or cliches, we can be bold co-creators with God as we labor together and birth the kingdom of God here on earth as it is in heaven, and near or far we can be bold to risk another step together putting one foot in front of the other as we vulnerably, but bravely learn to walk in the dark.
The language of the Spirit is beyond words. Beyond belief. Beyond the boxes we religious people put God in. Or other people in. I believe the Holy Spirit is always blowing our minds, enlarging our vision, and calling us to be more than we thought we could ever be. Christ is risen, and with us forever in the Spirit. So let’s learn the language of the Spirit. Don’t just talk. Listen. Groan. Moan. Sigh. Sing. Act. And let’s dream a new world together.
The angels asked, “...why do you stand here looking into the sky?” The mission-field Jesus calls us to is down here, in front of us, to our right and to our left. We are not abandoned, but given an opportunity to love fiercely and boldly in Jesus’ name. The Holy Spirit is with us now and empowers us to receive the fullness of God’s love and to share that love and peace with others. May go out this day to boldly serve in Jesus’ name right here in our neighborhood and to the ends of the earth.
