Healing Religious Trauma

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Acts 8:26-38 NRSV

This year’s Turner-Warren lecture still inspires me, and I hope you too, to think about the opportunities we have as a church to heal religious trauma caused by the oppressive beliefs of many who call themselves “Christian.” How do we support people who have been taught by preachers and by teachers and professors at their private conservative schools that who they are, that their very being, is outside of the boundaries of God’s love and grace?

How do we help people deconstruct the exclusion and fear of the other they have been taught in Sunday School and through sermons?  How do we help them to reach a point where they truly believe in the words of the Apostle Paul— the one who believed if anyone is outside the boundaries of God’s love, as a former persecutor of Christians, it was him— but became “convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:28-29)?

How do we heal religious trauma here in city that is known for creating it?

Well, this may come as a surprise to people who have been injured by those who have weaponized the Bible, but I believe the Bible, particularly this morning’s epistle lesson, can help a church like ours serving in a city like ours. I often think of what a better world this would be if the people who claim to love the Bible or sell the Bible would actually read the Bible.

Verse 26 of chapter 8 of the book of Acts reads:

Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip, ‘Get up and go…:

The first thing we must learn is that we will never be able to fulfill our call to be healers of religious trauma unless we first fulfill our call to “get up and go” to meet people where they are. We must go to them, because, sadly, those who have been wounded by the church have some very good reasons for not coming to us.

People who have been hurt by the church understand that most churches not only expect people to come to them, but they expect them to come in a manner that meets their own religious and cultural expectations. That is, they know that many churches expect people to come to them who want to believe like them, look like them, love like them, and even hate like them.

And as our political environment teaches us, it’s not just the church that has trouble accepting those who are different. Excluding others seems to be something that seems to come very naturally for us. I think if we are honest, we would all admit that we would much rather be around people who are a lot like us.

Some have said that it may be part of our evolutionary DNA. It’s some inborn, natural instinct of survival. Fear the different. Beware of the other. Trust no foreigner. Avoid the outsider.

This, of course, is what fuels racism and homophobia. It supports white Christian nationalism and isolationism. It builds walls, discriminates, excludes, and demeans the other.

I believe this is what the Apostle Paul is talking about when he talks about the dangers of being led by the flesh and not by the Spirit. Because we human beings can easily be led by the flesh. A false prophet or Anti-Christ-like leader can easily stoke the fear of the outsider that is inside all of us. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take a stable genius to lead us to hate the other.

However, the Spirit leads us to take a higher road.

Notice that Luke tells us that the Spirit had to urge Philip, the Spirit had to push Philip, pull Philip, to get up and go to this chariot to meet this queer black man from Ethiopia.

Philip, I know this may be hard for you. I know this may be against your natural inclination. But go to this chariot and meet this stranger, this gender-variant foreigner, this victim of bad faith and sick religion who had been ostracized from their community of faith, this one demeaned and exploited for their sexuality, this one who has been clobbered by the Bible by those who arbitrarily pick and choose scripture passages like Deuteronomy 23:1 that says Eunuchs are forbidden to enter the temple, this one who has been taught their entire life that they are despised by God. Go to their chariot and meet them where they are. Don’t expect them to come to you. And when you encounter them, do not stand above them or over them. Do not judge them or condemn them. Join them. Get into the chariot and sit beside them. Ride alongside them. Engage them. Listen to them. Seek to understand them, empathize with them. Learn from this other, this stranger, this foreigner, this beloved child of God, this beautiful sibling of yours.

Philip meets the Eunuch who is reading from the book of Isaiah. This should not surprise us. For this is one of the most hopeful books in the Hebrew Bible for those who have been marginalized by sick religion, for those who have been taught that they are despised by God. Imagine the hope that burned in this Eunuch’s heart when he read the following words we find in Isaiah 56:

Thus says the Lord:

Maintain justice, and do what is right,

for soon my salvation will come,

and my deliverance be revealed.

Do not let the foreigner joined to the Lord say,

‘The Lord will surely separate me from his people’;

and do not let the eunuch say,

‘I am just a dry tree.’

For thus says the Lord:

To the eunuchs…

…I will give, in my house and within my walls,

a monument and a name

better than sons and daughters;

I will give them an everlasting name

that shall not be cut off.

And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord,

…these I will bring to my holy mountain,

and make them joyful in my house of prayer;

their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices

will be accepted on my altar;

for my house shall be called a house of prayer

for all peoples.

Thus says the Lord God,

who gathers the outcasts of Israel,

I will gather others to them

beside those already gathered.

Philip hears him reading from Isaiah and asked: “Do you understand what you are reading?”

The Eunuch responds: “How can I understand it unless someone interprets it for me?

What a great question! What a better world this would be if more people understood that the Bible needs to be interpreted.

God never intended for people, on their own, to pick up the Bible, and arbitrarily lift scripture passages out of their contexts, and try to understand it or follow it. For this is one of the main causes of religious trauma today. Too many Christians are using the Bible out of context to support all kinds of hate, bigotry, and injustice.

And because of that, there are countless people in this world, countless people in this community, who are the victims of sick religion. They feel marginalized and disenfranchised by the church. They have been taught their entire lives that God despises them. They have no idea that God loves them and has a future for them— All because no one has interpreted the Bible pointing to the Jesus who came into the world, not to condemn the world by to save the world, to love the world.

The eunuch then begins to read from chapter 53:

Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,

and like a lamb silent before its shearer,

so he does not open his mouth.

In his humiliation justice was denied him.

Who can describe his generation?

For his life is taken away from the earth.

Then the Eunuch asks Philip, ‘About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?’

The Eunuch is asking: Who is this one was also ostracized and marginalized by others, as I have been? Who is this who was led like a sheep to be slaughtered? Who is this one who has been humiliated and denied justice? Who is this who had his life taken from him? Who is this one who is just like me? Who is this one who relates to me so well, who understands my pain, who knows my heartache, who empathizes with my sufferings? Is it Isaiah? Or is it someone else?

Then, Philip tells the eunuch the good news about Jesus, perhaps saying something like: the one who understands your pain, knows your heartache, and empathizes with your sufferings is none other than Jesus, the enfleshed presence of God, and the powers-that-be crucified him for it. The one who relates to you, identifies with you, and because of that, loves you, welcomes you, accepts you, affirms you and forgives you like none other, is the very One who others said despised you.

When the Eunuch hears this good news about Jesus, the words of the prophet become not only hopeful news for the future, but good, glad, certain news for the present:

For thus says the Lord:

To the eunuchs…

…I will give, in my house and within my walls,

a monument and a name

better than sons and daughters;

I will give them an everlasting name

that shall not be cut off.

Suddenly, barriers fall. Walls crumble. Obstacles disappear. And the very doors of the Kingdom of Heaven swing wide open.

It is then the Eunuch, this one who had no name and no future, but now has an everlasting name exclaims:s “Look here is water! What is to prevent me then from being baptized?” In other words, “What is separating me from the love of God?”

Knowing that nothing in heaven nor on earth, nor angels, nor preachers, nor church boards, nor church bylaws, nor books of discipline, nor elders, nor deacons, nor Sunday School teachers, nor college presidents nor or professors, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God, Philip commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip baptizes him, washing away the trauma.

Witnesses of Humanity

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Luke 24:36b-48 NRSV

The Risen Christ stands among the disciples saying, “Peace be with you.”

And what’s the disciple’s response?

“And also with you.”

Nope, not even close.

They are startled, skeptical, and terrified. They think they are seeing a ghost.

Now, think about that for a minute.

Because of fear, the Risen Christ finds himself in a position that many find themselves in today: trying to convince others of their humanity.

“Look at my hands and my feet… Touch me and see that I have flesh and bones.” Look at me, and see I am a human.”

Jesus has joined all those who have yearned and who yearn today for their humanity to be recognized.

I will never forget visiting Berlin, Germany in the 1986 before the Berlin Wall was torn down. We toured a small museum dedicated to the holocaust at “Checkpoint Charlie,” before going into East Berlin. As a stark reminder that the Germans are not the only ones guilty of racism, one of the last exhibits displayed pictures taken during the 1968 strike of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. I will never forget standing in the city where Adolph Hitler once ruled looking at pictures of black men in my own country, in my neighboring state, in my lifetime, holding signs which read: “I am a man.” I am a human. I am somebody. I have flesh and bones.

And this was Jesus. “Look at my hands and my feet.”

But “in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.”

I suspect that is where many of us are today. Justice and mercy prevailing and love winning brings us some joy when we first think about it, but it seems too good to be true. As much as we want it, we have difficulty believing it, seeing it, recognizing the possibility of any true peace in our world. Because for love to win, the first thing we must do is to recognize the humanity in others. And that is something we human beings have always had a difficult time doing.

The good news is that Jesus is not finished with his disciples. For it is then Jesus asks a rather embarrassing question: “Do you have anything here to eat?” Now think about that for a moment.

Jesus is put into the awkward position to invite himself to dinner, to ask the disciples for the most basic form of hospitality. Because of the disciple’s fear, Jesus has to remind them that when someone pays a visit, the polite thing to do is to offer that someone something to eat or drink.

Amy and David, you will be glad to know that one of the first things we discussed after you agreed to be here this weekend is how and what we were going to feed you!

Perhaps we also need to be reminded that offering another food and drink is simple, yet profoundly powerful. For when we offer someone something to eat, we are recognizing and affirming their humanity. Thus, not only is it the polite thing to do; it is the humane thing to do. It is also a faithful thing to do.

Father Abraham taught us this truth that hot day by the oaks of Mamre.

In Genesis 18, we read where three strangers appear on the street and get Abraham’s attention. Which raises a good question: “Whose humanity gets our attention? Are there some lives that get our attention over other lives?

Next, Abraham simply does what people of faith do for others, he welcomes them with a generous, gracious hospitality.

Notice that when he sees them, he doesn’t ignore them and allow them to pass on by. He doesn’t politely nod or wave in their direction. Nor does he safely call out to them from a distance asking them to come to him, and he certainly does not tell them to go back to where they came from. Abraham goes out to them. And he doesn’t cautiously walk over to them. When he sees them, the scripture says that he “runs” to meet them where they are.

And when he encounters these strangers, notice that he does not stand arrogantly over them or above them, but he humbly bows himself to the ground before them and speaks to them like a servant:

“Please do not pass me by. Let me get some water and wash the dust off your feet. Let me make a place for you to rest in the shade. Oh, and my wife, Sarah, bakes the best bread. Come and allow us to serve you. Then, you can continue your journey refueled and refreshed.”

When the strangers agree to stay a while, Abraham can hardly contain himself. He runs back inside, “Hurry, Sarah, prepare three cups of choice flour, knead it, and bake a delicious cake. He then runs out back to the field and takes the best-looking calf of the flock and has his servant prepare a delicious dinner. He brought it to them under the shade tree and waited on them while they ate.

And as verse one of chapter 18 suggests, we later discover that these three strangers were actually angels, messengers from God. This story teaches us that when we graciously and generously welcome the stranger, we welcome God. When we invite others to the table, the Lord appears.

In chapter 10 of Mark’s Gospel, we read the following words of Jesus:

Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me (Mark 10:40-42).

In the previous chapter we read where Jesus took a little child in his arms, and said:

Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me (Mark 9:36-37).

And in Matthew 25 we read Jesus’ words:

I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink; I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.

Do you see the pattern here? Jesus said that when we welcome others, we are welcoming him. And when we welcome him, we welcome God.

There was once a monastery that had fallen on hard times. The order was dying out. There were only five monks left, the abbot and four others.

The four monks feared that the monastery would have to be closed. In their desperation, they went out and sought counsel from a wise man they knew who lived in a hut in the woods that surrounded their monastery.

The wise man agreed to a meeting to talk with the abbot regarding the fate of their monastery. The meeting was very brief. For the only thing the abbot had to say was that he knew that “the Messiah was among them.”

The wise man returned to the monastery where the monks were eagerly waiting. “Please tell us! What do we have to do to save the monastery?” “Well,” the abbot replied, “the abbot was rather cryptic. He simply said that the Messiah is among us.”

“The Messiah is among us?” The four monks scratched their heads. How could the Messiah be among them? As they pondered the meaning of those words, the monks soon began to think of each member of the order as a possible Messiah. They started to treat one another with tremendous respect and kindness. And when people came to visit, they treated each of them as if they could be the Messiah, too.

When people from the surrounding area often came to picnic on the monastery’s beautiful grounds, to walk along the paths, and to pray in the chapel, the visitors were amazed by the generous welcome they received from the monks. There was an aura of respect and love that filled the place, making it strangely attractive, even compelling. Hardly knowing why, they began to come back to the monastery more frequently, to picnic, to play, and to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought their friends. Some of the younger men who came to visit talked more and more with the old monks, and they began to join the order. So before long, the monastery had once again become a thriving order, and a vibrant center of light and love for all people.

When we recognize the humanity of another, the dignity of another, when we graciously set a place at the table for another, when we do something as simple but as powerful as offering them something to eat or drink, we can begin to see the Imago Dei, the image of God in that person. And that is when something shifts and something we call “resurrection” happens, something that once seemed too good to be true becomes reality. Justice and mercy prevail. Love wins and peace comes.

As Jesus eats, enough of their fear subsides that their minds are opened, and they begin “to understand.” With each bite of fish that Jesus takes, the disciples are transformed from fearful skeptics to “witnesses of these things,” emboldened to be public witnesses for justice, mercy, and love in the world—which is exactly what our world needs today!

The world needs witnesses who do not merely talk about “these things” here, among ourselves, inside these four walls, but who do “these things” out in the public for all those who yearn for their humanity to be recognized:

For those whose basic human rights, even their bodily autonomy, are being stripped away;

For those who would love to have a seat at the table but are not invited or feel unwelcomed;

For those who have been traumatized by sick religion;

For those who are living in poverty, for workers denied a living wage;

For those whose lives are terrorized by war and violence.

We need to witness in public spaces speaking truth to power, asking questions of our presidential candidates, our governor, our representatives, and our mayor and city council, all who claim to be Christians:

“What are you doing to be a witness for the least of these?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of mercy for sick people and elderly people?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of justice for poor people and for incarcerated people?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of love for all those who are crying out for their humanity to be recognized?”

Jesus, the brown-skinned Jewish Palestinian, has risen from the dead and is standing before us today, pleading: “Friends, I’m hungry. Will somebody please give me something to eat? Will somebody please recognize my humanity by being a witness to the humanity of others?”

As disciples, may we push past our fear—fear of the stranger, fear of losing some friends, fear of upsetting some family, fear of some failure, fear of not having enough left over for ourselves—and understand that to be Easter people, to practice resurrection, is to first practice hospitality. And may we understand that we feed Jesus every time we feed the least, every time we offer a seat at the table for someone hungering and thirsting for justice.And the good news is that when the disciples fed Jesus, he fed them in return. When they chose generosity over suspicion, love over fear, their eyes were opened, their doubt vanished, and the resurrected Jesus came alive in them. Peace didn’t come first. Sharing a meal did. A recognition of another’s humanity did.

May we be witnesses of these things. And may the peace of Christ be with us all.

Easter People

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

John 20:1-18 NRSV

Welcome to First Christian Church in Lynchburg, Virginia! According to our Facebook page, we are “an Open and Affirming congregation celebrating diversity with a reasoned faith and passion for justice.”

Anyone hear a problem with that? Especially today on Easter Sunday. Of course, I am talking about the word “reasoned.” I know we mean that we are thoughtful, thinking, don’t-check-our-brain-before-entering-the-sanctuary Christians who believe COVID and science is real, dinosaurs existed, the earth is not flat and more than 4,000 years old. But do you think there might be a better word to describe us than “reasoned?”

Because did you hear the words I read before Logan was baptized?

“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore, we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6).

Now tell me. What about that sounds “reasonable?” I guess we could add something else to it to make it appeal more to reason, like, I don’t know, some words from Thomas Jefferson, James Madison or Lee Greenwood?

Søren Kierkegaard, the great Danish theologian, writes: “Christianity has taken a giant stride into the absurd. Remove from Christianity its ability to shock, and it is altogether destroyed. It then becomes a tiny superficial thing…It’s when the absurd starts to sound reasonable that we should begin to worry.” He goes on to name a few of Jesus’ shocking and unreasonable assertions: “Blessed are the meek; love your enemies; go and sell all you have and give it to the poor.”[i]

If you listen to some of the most popular preachers today, Christianity is not about absurdity. It’s about nationalism. It’s about the freedom to oppress people who live, love and worship differently. It’s about turning back the clock, putting people back in their places, taking away their rights. Instead of being about seeing and loving transgendered people today, it is about ignoring them and hurting them.

Or it’s all about positive thinking. It’s about how to be successful, happy, satisfied, and at home, at work, and at play, in marriage, in friendships, and in business. There’s no absurd talk of answering a call to pick up and carry a cross to love another. No unreasonable talk of dying to self or loving our neighbors as ourselves. No foolish talk about the poor being blessed and the meek inheriting the earth.

Perhaps this tendency to rationalize the gospel has been with us since day one. Just listen to Mary and the way she makes sense out of that first Easter morning when she saw that the stone had been removed.

So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple…and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb…

Of course, that is what has happened. Any reasoned person with a lick of common sense can deduce this. It would be absurd to believe anything else!

“Mary stood weeping outside the tomb..”

Also a very reasonable thing to do in this situation.

As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white…They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

“And I do not know…” Here she comes close to the heart of the truth, that she “does not know everything,” that things in this world are not always black and white, but then it becomes obvious that she is still grounded in earthly wisdom, still constrained by human reason and good common sense: “I don’t know where they have laid him.”

When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus

Of course, it’s not Jesus. That would be absurd.

15Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for? Supposing him to be the gardener…”

Of course, he’s probably the gardener. That’s most reasonable explanation.

She says to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

A rational request, a reasonable appeal.

But the good news is that the risen Christ is continually liberating us from the restrictions of rational thought, reasonable assertions, and all the limitations of human reason!

The Risen Christ is continually breaking the restraints of common sense, pushing the boundaries of human logic. He is continually calling us out of the black and white world that we have all figured out to live in a new realm that many would regard as absurd.

And notice how he is does it. He breaks the barriers of worldly wisdom, the presuppositions that Mary has of what is going on in this world and not going on in this world, by calling her by name.

Jesus says to her, “Mary!”

And for Mary, this is the moment she takes a great stride into the absurd, the moment her whole world is suddenly transformed! This is the moment Mary began walking by faith and not by sight.

In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes these words:

[Jesus] died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them. From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. 17So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

The Apostle Paul is writing about a miraculous change that has been wrought in his life because of the change that has been wrought in the world through God in Jesus Christ.

 Paul is saying that at one time he understood Christ with the reason of mortals—as a great teacher, a fine moral example.But now he is able to see in the death and resurrection of Christ, a radical shift in the entire world. In Christ, a new age has been inaugurated. The whole world has been transformed. Just as God brought light out of darkness in creation, God has now recreated the world in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

This is what the great theologian Moltmann was trying to point out when he said, “We have attempted to view the resurrection of Christ from the viewpoint of history. Perhaps the time has come for us to view history from the viewpoint of the resurrection!”

Paul was saying that when Jesus was raised from the dead, the whole world had shifted on its axis. All was made new.

This is exactly what happened to Mary when the risen Lord called her by name.

When she hears her name called, Mary recognizes the risen Christ, turns and says to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher).

 And Mary experienced a transformation that was so real, that she was compelled to announce it to the world: “I have seen the Lord!”

You know, it’s one thing to experience something that you know the whole world thinks is absurd or foolish. But it takes foolishness to a whole other level when you go out and share that something with the world.

But that is just what people who have experienced the good news of Easter do.

The Apostle Paul once outrageously put it this way:

“The way of the cross is foolishness” to the world. “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles.”

That is why on this day of days, when some look at us gathered here, praying, singing, preaching and baptizing, repeating aloud that our Lord is risen, “he is risen indeed,” and they say that everything that we are doing here today only confirms their preconceptions that we are a bunch of fools who have who have lost our ability to reason, we smile and have the audacity to respond: “You have no idea just how foolish we are!”

“How foolish? you ask.”

Oh, as Easter people, we’re foolish enough!

  • As Easter people foolish enough to believe that the only life worth living is a life that is given away.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the Kingdom of God belongs to the poor, that those who hunger and thirst for justice will be filled.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the last shall be first.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that all things work together for the good.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can separate us from the love of God.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that this world can be a better place.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe we can take steps to heal our planet.
  • We’re foolish enough to live in the gray, understanding that not everything in this world is black and white. We can be losing ourselves while saving ourselves, believing there is joy in sorrow, beauty in chaos, hope in despair, and life in death. We can grieve abortions while supporting the reproductive rights of women. We can support law enforcement while believing black lives matter. We can call for a cease-fire in Gaza and pray for Palestinians, while standing firm against antisemitism. We can say free the hostages and free Palestine. And we can preach against Christian Nationalism and condemn a Bible with an American flag on the cover while loving God and country.

And we are foolish enough to take foolish to whole other level!

  • We’re foolish enough to respect the faiths of all people.
  • We’re foolish enough to call a Jew and a Palestinian our sibling and pray for them both.
  • We’re foolish enough to love our neighbors as ourselves.
  • We’re foolish enough to love an enemy, welcome a stranger, include a foreigner.
  • We’re foolish enough to forgive seventy times seven.
  • We’re foolish enough to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, and give the very shirts off our backs.
  • We’re foolish enough to stand up for the marginalized, defend the most vulnerable, and fight to free the oppressed. That means that we are foolish enough to see our transgendered siblings this day.
  • We’re foolish enough to get back up when life knocks us down.
  • We’re foolish enough to never give up, never give in, and never give out.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can stop us, not even death.

Because, although it may seem absurd and far from reasonable, we believe somebody loves us.

Somebody came and taught us to see the world in a brand new way.

Somebody picked up and carried a cross.

Somebody suffered.

Somebody gave all they had, even to the point of death.

Somebody rose from the grave.

And that same somebody found us and called us by name.

Let us pray together:

Let the absurdity of the gospel inform and guide our lives.

         Continue to call us my name.

         Transform our lives.

         Fashion us with the hands of Christ.

         Form us with the heart of Christ.

         Shape us with the hope of Christ.

         So that we may live as those who believe in the communion of the saints, the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection of the dead.

As those who live as Easter people proclaiming to all people:

         Christ is risen!  Alleluia!

Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

[i] http://sojo.net/magazine/2007/08/foolishness-cross

Worst Parade Ever

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year B1 Comment

 John 12:12-15 NRSV

It has been said that “Everybody loves a parade!” I have often thought that this is the reason, in their desire to fill the pews on Sunday morning, churches are tempted act like some type of parade.

You know, like the parades they have down in New Orleans where they throw candy, toys, beads, and all sorts of fun things from the floats that pass by. I have often thought that people go to parades like some people go to church: to get something, to catch something that is thrown their way, something sweet, pleasant, something that is going to make their lives better, make their families stronger, happier.

Then there are other parades. Although no candy is thrown, these parades just have a way of making us feel good. They put us in a good mood. Nothing gets some of us in the Holiday Spirit like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade.

There are people who go to church to get in a particular mood. They go to hear something that moves them, stirs them. They go to see something that wows them. They go to ooh and ahh. They go to get a good feeling that will hopefully last them the rest of the week.

Then there are military parades. President Trump once said that is what our country needs. They show off a well-trained, well-conditioned army marching in step with tanks and missiles with nuclear warheads to show the world who’s the strongest and the greatest, whose citizens are the safest, most protected, most secure.

Just like some people go to church to get something that makes them feel a little more superior than others, reaffirms their power and privilege. They also go to be protected from all sorts of evil. And they go for some eternal security.

If we pay attention, we discover that each of these parades has the same drumbeat. It is a beat that is easy for us to march to. It is a beat of pleasure, a beat of comfort, a beat of self-preservation, but also self-indulgence and self-aggrandizement. It is a beat of pride, a beat of greed, a beat that entices us.

And, although we know this beat has an innate tendency to be depraved, although we know this beat often stirs the darker, most selfish places within us, we love this beat. Many live by this beat, work by this beat, relate to others by this beat, vote by this beat. We even worship by this beat.

But on this Palm Sunday, we are reminded that there is yet another kind of parade. And it’s a parade that marches to the beat of very different drum.

Nearing the end of his life, Jesus, the savior of the world, paraded into Jerusalem to liberate God’s people, not on some white war stallion, but on a borrowed donkey; not with a well-trained, well-conditioned army, but with a gang of rag-tag students who had no idea what they were doing or where they were going.

The late Henri Nouwen, one of my favorite authors and pastors once said, that to much of the world, this parade looked “downright stupid.”

For Jesus marched to a difficult beat that pushes against the status quo, that pulls us out of our comfort zones, that challenges our instincts.

While others marched to the beat of a self-serving, self-seeking, self-preserving drum, Jesus rode a donkey and marched to the beat of a self-giving, self-denying drum.

As the crowds waved palm branches and shouted “Hosanna! God save us!” Jesus answered their cries by marching to a beat of sacrificial, unconditional love for all people, especially for those considered to be among least. Although he knew he would be killed for it, Jesus kept marching forward with a scandalous, socially acceptable love and an offensive grace.

Yes, bouncing in on the back of a donkey, Jesus marched to the beat of a very different drum.

During Virginia 10-miler in September, I have been told that several of you have made signs to hold up to cheer on the runners who make their way up and down Rivermont and Langhorn. As a runner, I know the type. These signs are often very creative. I have seen signs that say: “You Are Running Better than the Government.” One of my favorite signs that I see people holding in nearly every race reads: “Worst Parade Ever.”

If we are honest, this is our initial reaction to this Palm Sunday parade. The people cry “Hosanna! God save us!” And here comes God, riding in on a donkey!

This is not a parade of pride. It is a parade of humility.

It is not a parade that entertains. It is a parade that suffers.

It is not a parade of pleasure. It is parade of agony.

It is not a parade of self-preservation. It is a parade of self-expenditure.

And although the route of this parade brought Jesus to the capital city, this parade was not good news for the rich and the powerful, the self-important and the self-sufficient.

This parade was good news for the poor, the suffering, the marginal, the prisoners—for all who thirst and hunger justice and compassion.

This march was good news those who had been left out and left behind: For sinners condemned by bad religion; For women, children and minorities silenced by the privileged; For the broken cast aside by society; For all those who are unable to march: the blind, the disabled, the mentally ill, the wounded and the sick. For all who needed salvation.

Maybe the President was partly right. What America needs right now is a good parade.

However, we do not need a parade led by tanks and missiles with nuclear warheads asserting that military might is the answer to our problems.

We need a parade led by one riding a donkey asserting that selfless love is the answer.

We need a parade that emphasizes that what this nation needs is more humility and less arrogance, more respect and less name-calling, more empathy and less callousness, more acts of kindness and less meaness.

We need a parade led by one riding a donkey showcasing not those who sit in the highest seats of power, but school children who just want to be safe, workers who just want a living wage, persons with different abilities who just want to be included, the sick who just want to see a doctor, the poor who just want to eat, the oppressed who just want to be free, refugees who just want to live, immigrants who just want to be seen as human beings rather than animals, and women who just want the government to stay out of their most personal decisions.

We need a parade led by our savior who rides a donkey!

And if we are honest, we would confess that this parade is not always easy for us accept. Notice verse 16: “His disciples did not understand these things…” The truth is: neither can we.

United Methodist Bishop William Willimon writes:

We wanted Jesus to come to town on a warhorse, and Jesus rode in on a donkey. We wanted Jesus to march up to the statehouse and fix the political problem, and Jesus went to the temple to pray. We wanted Jesus to get organized, mobilize his forces, get the revolution going, set things right, and Jesus gathered with his friends in an upper room, broke bread, and drank wine. We wanted Jesus to go head-to-head with the powers-that-be, and Jesus just hung there, on Friday from noon until three, with hardly a word.

Jesus didn’t come fixing all our problems. He didn’t come offering us health and wealth, an easy life or even a better life. He didn’t come showering us with treats to make us feel good. And he didn’t come showing us his power and might. Jesus came riding a donkey.

For God so loved the world that God emptied God’s self. God poured God’s self out and showed us the way to love. God bore our rejection and suffered, even to death on cross. God came to us—not in the way that we wanted—but, the good news is, God came in the way that we need for life—abundant and eternal.

Those great theologians of our time, the Rolling Stones had it right:

You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you might just find, you get what you need.

We found the worst parade ever became the best parade ever!

I may want these pews to be full every Sunday morning. However, for us to be the church that God is calling us to be, worship service attendance on Sunday morning will never be as important as how we are worshiping God with our selfless service the rest of the week. How we march through these doors on Sunday morning is not nearly as important as how we are marching outside of these doors on Monday.

To determine if we are being the church God is calling us to be, what we need is a new gauge. We need a new benchmark to determine if we are marching to the beat of a different drum, a new indicator to tell if we are marching in the steps of the One who rides a donkey. For it’s not how many of us are coming to church that is important to this One. It’s what we are doing in the world to be the church.

Purchasing summer learning kits for to prepare underprivileged children for kindergarten is a sign that we are marching in the steps of the one who rides a donkey.

Building a community pantry and serving a meal at a local mission to feed people who are food-insecure is evidence that we are marching in the steps of the one who rides a donkey.

Worshipping with a Jewish synagogue to take a stand together against racism and hate demonstrates that we are marching in the steps of the one who rides a donkey.

Selflessly giving our time, our resources, and ourselves marching in a Christmas parade to advocate for inclusion, marching to the capital to cry out against injustice, violence and corruption, to speak up for the care of God’s creation; marching down the road to extend mercy to someone who is broken; marching across a room to perform a small act of kindness to a stranger, marching out in the darkness to be a friend to someone who is afraid, marching everywhere we go to love all of our neighbors as we love ourselves—

These are the markers that we are the church God is calling us to be.

May God give us the grace and the strength to keep marching forward to the beat of a different drum, to keep following in the steps of the One who rides a donkey; to keep marching a march of suffering, but also a march of joy; a march of sacrifice, but also a march of hope; a march to lose our lives, but also a march to save our lives.

At the Table with Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year B1 Comment

John 12:1-8 NRSV

Every service of worship should begin with a warning.  Instead of a welcome and a few announcements, I believe the congregation needs to be forewarned, put on alert, and advised to proceed with caution.

Because every time we gather around a table that we say doesn’t belong to us but belongs to Jesus and partake in something we call “the Lord’s Supper” things are likely to get a little crazy! Things are bound to happen that surprise, even shock us. Things can mysteriously break out, break open, shift, and spill out. Because, here, at this table with Jesus, things are not always as we expect them to be, nor even as they appear to be.

To illustrate what I am trying to say, allow me to share a story.

Jesus is nearing the end of his ministry. There’s always been opposition to his radical way of love and the way it turned everything upside down. The first are last, and the last are first. The poor are blessed, and the rich are sent away empty. But now there is a sense that things are coming to a head. The enemies of Jesus, the religious leaders who profited from the status quo, those for whom life holds no mystery, those who have been lurking in the shadows plotting against him, are now ready to finally entrap him.

But before Jesus takes his disciples on that fateful journey into Jerusalem, he gathers for supper with his most faithful disciples, Mary and Martha, and oh-my-word, what a supper that was!

John opens the story by saying, “Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.”

Now, can you imagine standing behind your chair at the table getting ready to pull it out and sit down when someone introduces you to the one standing at the head of the table by saying, “You know our host, Mr. Lazarus, don’t you?  Yeah, we didn’t know he was going to be able to host our gathering today, because a couple of weeks ago he became very ill.  And about a week ago, he was dead and buried.”

As you pull out your chair to sit down at the table, you’re thinking: “This is going to be one crazy supper!”

Well, not long after the wine is poured, Mary starts acting as if she has already had too much wine as she lets down her hair right there at the dinner table!  Then she shocks everyone, when takes a bottle of very expensive perfume, gets down on her knees under the table, and begins anointing the feet of Jesus! Pouring the perfume all over his feet and wiping his feet with her hair! The fragrance, almost overbearing, fills the entire house. Perfume and hair everywhere!  At the supper table!

John mentions only one other guest at the table that evening. He is the disciple whose reputation precedes him: Judas Iscariot—The very disciple who will betray Jesus. Now, let me ask you this, can this supper get any more crazy?

Shaking his head at Mary making a spectacle of herself under the table, Judas, being the good, committed liberal that he is, asks a great ethical question: “Why wasn’t this expensive perfume sold and the money given to the poor rather than wasting it by pouring it all over Jesus’ feet?”

It is rather shocking that it comes from Judas, for it’s the type of question that one can easily imagine the Jesus asking.

Well, surprise, surprise, Judas! You have been paying attention! You didn’t sleep through all of Jesus’ sermons! Way to go, Judas!”

But then, just when you thought things could not become more crazy, comes an even bigger surprise in the way Jesus responds: “The poor you will have with you always, but you will not always have me.”   Whaat? Why would Jesus say something like that?

But then we begin to get it. When Jesus first mentioned burial, we thought he was talking about Lazarus. But this is not about Lazarus. And this is not about the poor. This is about what is going to take place in Jerusalem during the next couple of weeks.

What should be a happy gathering of good friends enjoying a lovely supper is a prelude to the crucifixion. Jesus is at the table with both friends and betrayer. Sweet smelling perfume is not the only thing in the air. Disloyalty, disappointment, and death are also in the air. But so is unconditional love, extravagant grace and love poured out.

What a supper this has turned out to be! So much more going on beyond the senses.

This is how it always is with Jesus. When we choose to follow Jesus, to eat and drink with Jesus and choose to include those with whom he ate and drank, we can expect that there is always more meaning beyond the moment, more reality beyond the senses. The truth is that this very morning, here in this place, there is more going on than we can possibly imagine. There is more happening here than the saying of a few prayers, the singing of few hymns, the tasting of a little bread and the sipping of a little juice.

Because, in this place the Holy One is mysteriously, yet certainly present, communing with us, giving the Divine Self to us, revealing the Divine Self for us. And as flawed, fragmented human beings, we can count on being surprised and even shocked by the revelation.

So, this morning, I am asking you to hold on to the pews, for anytime Christ comes among us things are liable to break out, break open, change, shift and spill out.

You might have thought you were going to come to this place to see a few friends, but before you leave this place, you may be shocked to discover that you have seen Jesus here.

Soon after Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, John says that some Greeks come to Philip and said, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

Philip went and told Andrew; then they both went and told Jesus. And listen to how Jesus answers them: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.”

Jesus seems to be saying: “They want to see me? Then tell them they must be willing to die to themselves, break their bodies, pour themselves out. Turn the world upside down. Follow me by humbly being a servant to the least of these among us. And it is there, perhaps in the least likely place, and among the least likely people, in the least likely of ways, there they will see me.”

Henri Nouwen was a gifted Catholic priest and brilliant teacher who taught at prestigious universities like Harvard and Yale. He was a renowned author and sought-after speaker. However, answering a call to follow Jesus, he left the Ivy League to spend the last decade of his life serving as a chaplain within a community of people with severe emotional, mental, and physical disabilities.

In one of his many books, Nouwen tells a story about Trevor, a man in that community who was dealing with such severe mental and emotional challenges that he had to be sent to a psychiatric unit at a large hospital for an evaluation. One day Henri wanted to visit him, so he called the hospital and arranged for a visit.

When the administrators at the hospital received word that Henri Nouwen, the renowned author and teacher from Yale and Harvard would be coming, they reached out to him and asked if they might have lunch with him in the Golden Room—the most elegant meeting room in the hospital. They would also invite doctors and other clergy to the special luncheon. Nouwen agreed.

As soon as he arrived at the hospital, someone was there to meet him to take him to the Golden Room. When he got to the room, Trevor was nowhere to be seen. Troubled, he asked about Trevor’s whereabouts.

“Oh,” said an administrator, “Trevor cannot join us for lunch. Patients and staff are not allowed to have lunch together. Besides, no patient has ever had lunch in the Golden Room.”

By nature, Henri was not a confrontational person. But perhaps guided by the Spirit, this crazy thought that came to his mind: “Include Trevor.” “Trevor ought to be here.”  So, Henri swallowed hard, turned to the administrator, and said, “But the whole purpose of my coming here was to visit with Trevor. So, if Trevor is not allowed to attend the lunch, I will not be able to attend.”

Well, the administrators couldn’t imagine missing an opportunity for lunch with the great Henri Nouwen, so they quickly found a way for Trevor to attend.

And this is when, like hair and perfume everywhere, things around the table. At one point during the lunch, Henri was talking to the person to his right and didn’t notice that Trevor, seated at his left, had stood up and lifted his glass of Dr. Pepper.

“A toast. I will now offer a toast,” Trevor said to the group.

Everybody in the room tensed up. What in the world was Trevor going to say?

Then Trevor, this deeply challenged man in a room full of PhDs and esteemed clergy, started to sing, “If you’re happy and you know it, raise your glass. If you’re happy and you know it, raise your glass…”

 No one knew what to do. It was awkward. Here was a man with a level of challenge and brokenness they could not begin to understand, yet he was beaming. Although most everyone one in the room was apprehensive about him being there, he was absolutely thrilled to be there. So, they started to sing. Softly at first, but then louder and louder until all the doctors and clergy and Henri Nouwen were practically shouting, “If you’re happy and you know it, raise your glass.”

Henri went on to give a brief lecture at the luncheon, but the moment everyone remembered, the moment everyone saw Jesus the most clearly and heard the word of God the most profoundly, happened through the person they all would have said was the least likely at the table to emulate Jesus.[i]

When we gather at the table with Jesus, things are not always what we expect them to be, nor are they what they appear to be. Like perfume and hair everywhere, the Holy Spirit of God is breaking out, breaking open, and spilling out.

You thought that you had things all figured out, that you knew what was going on and what was not going on in this world, only to discover that you do not have a clue.

This morning, you thought you were going to go to church, go through the motions and go back home unchanged, but to your startling surprise it has been revealed that you have been summoned, you have been called to do something that is bigger than you and to go on a journey that is far from home.

And here is the real shock, saying yes to this summons to die to yourself, to leave a place of comfort and security, you have never felt more alive, more you, and more at home.

[i] John Ortberg, in the sermon, “Guide.” Preachingtoday.com.

The Good Snake

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year B1 Comment
Art by Carrie Knutsen

John 3:14-21 NRSV

It’s funny how I still have the same recurring nightmares that I had as a child.

Going to school and suddenly realizing that I forgot to dress myself that morning.

Being chased in the darkness by a gang of clowns that included Bozo, the Town Clown from Captain Kangaroo and Ronald McDonald.

But perhaps my most frightening recurring nightmare is the one where, I suddenly find myself standing in my front yard that is crawling with snakes. I can’t take on step without stepping on a slithering serpent.

Our deep fear of snakes makes even more strange the reference that Jesus makes to an obscure story in the book of Numbers.

 “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up that whosever believes in him might have eternal life.”

 This reminds me of the Sumerian God of Healing who walked around with two intertwined snakes upon his staff, which was later adopted as the symbol for the American Medical Association.

It’s a strange image of healing, isn’t it? Two snakes on a staff. Something frightening and threatening as a symbol for healing and wholeness.

But anyone who has ever experienced surgery and has listened to the doctor discuss the risks involved, knows that if we want to be healed, sometimes we must take a risk. If we want to be made whole, sometimes our lives must be threatened.

Yet, we are often startled or frightened by any sight of a snake. And if we dream of snakes most of us would call that dream a nightmare.

 The story in the book of Numbers begins as the starving Israelites desperately cry out to God for help. God hears their prayers and sends manna from heaven. At first, they were grateful, but after eating the manna day after day after day after day, they are fed up with it, literally and figuratively. So, in a spirit of selfish ungratefulness, they begin to complain God.

 It is then that these “fiery” serpents show up.

 One of my favorite preachers, Barbara Brown Taylor, points out that the Hebrew word for “fiery” is Seraph. She says that it is a word that is used to describe how your ankle feels when it is bitten by a poisonous snake: “fiery.” The serpents who bit the Hebrews for their ungratefulness were called Seraphs. Does that sound familiar? It is also the Hebrew name for angels.

In Isaiah 6, we are told that Seraphs or Seraphim surrounded the throne of God, protecting God. And here in Numbers, these, fiery, frightening Seraphs, these slithering serpents show up to frighten, hurt, but to ultimately save the people.

One could say that these fiery angelic serpents come to strike the people back into their senses. Being brought close to death, they remember how precious life is. They apologize to Moses, admitting how selfish and ungrateful they had become.

“Please, Moses, ask God to call back the snakes!” they pleaded.

However, God doesn’t remove the evil from their midst. Instead, God says to Moses: “take a brass serpent, put it on a pole, and make the people look at it.” So that in the future, when self-centeredness and ungratefulness overtake them, they will look at the snake, the symbol of their sinfulness upon the pole, and be saved.

Moses makes a replica of the outcome of the sin of the people and lifts it up onto a pole, makes them look at it, and there, they are able to see that the Seraph of death has become the Seraph of life.

In looking at the truth of who they were, no matter how painful and fiery that truth was—they receive salvation.

And now John says that Jesus uses this serpent on a pole to describe himself.

In a conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus uses the image of a snake on a pole as a parable of what he was doing to save the world.  Thus, one could say that the Gospel of John refers to Jesus, not only as “the Good Shepherd,” but also as “the Good Snake.”

 Jesus surprised us when he came to dwell among us, slithering into our darkness, our sinfulness. He opened his mouth and spoke prophetic words that cut us like a sword.

His teachings to love all people unconditionally, including our enemies, to sell our possessions and give them to the poor, to humble ourselves by taking the lowest seat at the table, to turn the other cheek, to forgive seventy times seven, to walk the extra mile, to regard women and children with equality, to welcome the foreigner, to do justice on the behalf of the marginalized, to defend the sinner, to see God in the least of those among us, to deny ourselves, lose ourselves and take up a cross, felt like a fiery poison coursing through our veins as it made us realize that we have a propensity to love the darkness more than the light.

 So, we had him arrested, and when Pilate asked us to choose between an insurrectionist and Jesus, we chose the criminal. We tortured him and lifted him high on a pole. And while he was lifted up, his prophetic venomous words calling us to deny ourselves and take up our own crosses, somehow, some way became words of life.

And standing at the foot of this pole, all who, even today, hear him cry out, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” are able to look up and say, “Truly, this was the Son of God.”

 When we dare to look intently at our Good Snake hanging on the cross, we begin to realize that on that cross hangs our refusal to follow his way of love, grace and justice, our choice to feed ourselves rather than feed hungry, look after ourselves rather than heal the sick, love ourselves, rather than love our enemies, and stand up for the rich, privileged and powerful rather than for those considered to be the least. We realize that on that cross hangs our pride, tribalism, hate, and bigotry. We realize that it was none other than our sin that put Jesus on the cross.

         And it is in looking intently at the snake on the pole, we find our salvation. It is in looking at our propensity for evil in this world that saves us and enables us to build God’s kingdom of love, grace, and justice in this world.

This why we need to take notice when others try to prevent us from looking at our sins, acknowledging our evil past, and studying our blighted history. We need to wake up and pay attention when someone repeats a lie to re-write history constantly spouting misinformation such as: “The United States was founded as a Christian nation,” “the Civil War wasn’t over slavery,” “some slaves had it pretty good,” “the holocaust never happened,” or the January 6 insurrectionists were “ordinary tourists.” And we also need to take note how the cross on which Jesus was crucified by an always unholy marriage of religion and state has been made into an adored ornament, and how the cause of Jesus’ death is most often attributed to God’s love instead of the rejection of God’s love by sinful humanity.

There are forces in our world today that want us to forget our sinful history, because they know in the words of George Orwell, that “the most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.” But it is in remembering and studying the truth of our history, no matter how bad that truth hurts, even if it stings like fiery venom in our veins, that we become better, more loving, more gracious, more just, more like the D\disciples we are called to be.

There’s a reason that the Civil Rights movement was emboldened after Mamie Till, the mother of Emmett Till, forced us to look at the snake by declining an offer from the mortician to “touch up” her son’s body and opting for an open casket funeral, saying: “I think everybody needed to know what had happened to Emmett Till.”

Perhaps she knew that when we look intently at the snake, an outbreak of the Kingdom God can happen.

And as people who understand that it was our sins that put Jesus on the cross, we should always do everything we can to help others look at the snakes in our midst today: the bodies of school children riddled with bullets from a mass shooter; the bloodied face of a gay child beat by bullies in a middle school restroom; the malnourished, starved corpses of Palestinian children victimized by a war that needs to end. Because when we look intently at the snake, we find the courage to say: “enough is enough is enough already!”

In planning the annual Yom Ha Shoah Holocaust Remembrance service this week with Rabbi Harley and other clergy, we read together the following words written by Rev. Terry Dickinson which underscore our necessity to remember, to never forget, to always look intently at the snake, because if we are honest, we would rather look the other way and pretend it never happened:

I’d rather pretend it never happened.
I’d rather believe that the sky was never blackened by the smoke of human death, that children and mothers and innocent men
were never victims of such a magnitude of hate.

I’d rather pretend it never happened, but if I have to remember,
if I must look into this gaping scar of human ignorance,
I want to believe that it could only happen once in the history of this universe. Yet, history has a terrible way of echoing in the stone-hard canyons of bigotry, repeating itself again and again.

I’d rather pretend it never happened, for in remembering,
the world seems a frightening place,
where we cannot celebrate, but would rather exterminate our differences and merge into one large mass of sameness.

I’d rather pretend it never happened and believe that it could never happen again. Yet, I know that as long as I look upon even one other person
with seeds of hate, and fail to see him as my brother,
or her as my sister, or them as my family,

then my own precious soul is fertile ground
for these seeds to sprout yet another Holocaust.[i]

Let us look intently at the snake. Look at him, lifted up, crucified. Listen to his words of mercy, love and grace. For if we can keep our eyes on the snake upon the pole, one day, love will finally win, the kingdom will finally come, and the only place on earth we will be frightened is in the deep recesses of our darkest nightmares.

[i] By Rev. Terry Dickinson (1997, Christway Unity Church, Hot Springs, AR)

Righteous Rage

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year BLeave a comment
Shirt can be ordered at https://pavlovitzdesign.com

John 2:13-22 NRSV

Psychologists have identified four stages of anger.[i] The first stage is when we are “annoyed.” Studies have shown that most people become annoyed a few times per day when someone or some situation becomes bothersome or irritating to us.

I am sure Jesus was annoyed as often as we are, if not more often. I believe we can read one example in Mark, chapter 2, when Jesus enters the synagogue on a sabbath and encounters a man with a withered hand. Although the Pharisees believed it was unlawful to heal on the sabbath, Jesus compassionately heals the man and then looks at the Pharisees “with anger” says Mark; for he was “grieved,” or I believe one could say, “he was very annoyed,” by their “hardness of heart.”

When we are annoyed and feel our stress levels begin to rise, we’ve moved into the second stage of anger: “frustration.” In this stage, we’re still able to think rationally, but because of our dissatisfaction with what’s happening, it might not be as easy to stay calm and clearheaded.

 A few weeks ago, we read an account of Jesus being frustrated when he encounters a leper, and according to Mark, is “moved with pity.” I pointed out that scholars agree that the Greek text is best translated, “moved with anger,” and I said it was not so much the disease of leprosy that angered or frustrated Jesus, but it was what the disease did to a person socially, excluding them from community.

The third stage of anger is “hostility.” We get to this stage when there’s been a large build-up of stress, pain, or anxiety. Things become so frustrating, we find it difficult to stay calm or to speak politely.  Have you ever heard the saying: “That’s enough to make a preacher cuss?” I could tell you some stories, but this is not the time nor the place. Maybe down in the fellowship hall Wednesday night, or better yet, downtown at the brewery Thursday evening. An example of Jesus becoming hostile may be last week’s gospel lesson when Jesus, calls Peter “Satan.”

Then we have the fourth stage: rage. This is the stage where we lose control. We lash out physically, like throwing an object, like silver coins, or turning over a piece of furniture, like a table in the temple, or we may threaten violence, like making a whip of cords and chasing everyone out of the room, even the sheep and the cattle.

 I don’t believe there’s better example of Jesus demonstrating rage than this temple scene in today’s gospel lesson. And a good question for those of us who are seeking to emulate Jesus is: What moved Jesus from simply being annoyed to a fit of rage?

To interpret this text, it is important to note why this is our lectionary text in the season of Lent. Our text begins: “The Passover of the Jews was near.” To commemorate the story of the Israelites’ protection from the Angel of Death and their Exodus from Egyptian slavery, Jewish people were coming from all over to purchase animals in the temple to make religious sacrifices to God so they could get right with God, experience some love and favor from God. To get right with God, people with means had enough money to purchase cattle or sheep, whereas people who were poor scaped up the little money they had and settled for the doves.

That the religious leaders were making a profit by leading people to believe they could not experience Divine favor unless certain conditions were met, enraged Jesus so that he made a whip and chased them out of the temple, pouring out their coins and turning over their tables, while specifically instructing those who were selling doves to the poor, “Take these things out of here!”

The Jews, who are now unable to purchase sacrifices to observe Passover, become fearful that they would be unable to get right with God. So, they confront Jesus: “You better be able to come up with a pretty good sign to prove to us that we don’t need to make sacrifices to experience God’s love!”

And it is then that Jesus responds, “Destroy this temple, and in three days, I will raise it up.” John tells us that Jesus was speaking not of the building in which they stood, but the temple of his own body.

I believe John is emphasizing that in the incarnation of Jesus, the good news of God’s unconditional love is enfleshed or embodied. In the words of Revelation 21, “God’s dwelling place is now among the people” with Jesus modeling the way.

This should not lead anyone to believe that the presence of God has departed from the Jewish faith or that Christianity supersedes any other religious tradition. Rather, from a Christian perspective, the good news that every person is loved by God just as they are, is enfleshed in anyone who follows the way of love that Jesus embodied.

Mahatma Gandhi was annoyed and frustrated when he famously said:

I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.

This, of course, is the main problem of the church today. While there are many faith communities loving others selflessly and unconditionally, too many Christians have succumbed to their thirst for power and control.

Today, this is demonstrated whenever the church seems more concerned about the survival of the institution than the needs of people; whenever service in the community is performed in hope of gaining new members, rather than out of compassionate concern for neighbors in need; and whenever gatekeepers are appointed to determine who belongs in the family of God and the hoops through one must jump to be in community.

Instead of embodying the good news of God’s love for all people through acts of grace and mercy, the church today looks more like a set of rules designed by the powerful and the privileged to keep people in line and the marginalized in their place.

Christianity looks like a religion based more on nationalism than on following the way of love that Jesus modeled. It looks like a religion built on guilt, obligation, and fear, a religion whose purpose is to keep people out of an eternal hell while ignoring the hell humanity has created in God’s good creation.[ii]

A religion. This is what really enraged Jesus, that people took something as pure and wonderful and holy as the unconditional love of God and made it into a religion.

While I was pastoring a church right out of seminary back in 1993, a deacon in our church asked me where I saw myself in twenty-five years. I told him that I believed that I would still be pastoring a church somewhere.

He laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?”   I asked.

“I see you more as the type who might be teaching in some college somewhere or directing a non-profit. I don’t think you are going to be a pastor.”

“Why do you say that?”

He said, “For one thing, pastors are generally religious people. And you, my friend, are not very religious!”

What this deacon failed to realize was that the church is not a religious organization. And the last thing a Christian pastor should be is religious.

Let me share with you what I think is a good definition of religion.  It comes from the late Episcopal Priest Robert Capon: “Religion is the attempt by human beings to establish a right relationship between themselves and something beyond themselves which they think to be of life-giving significance.”

This is what enraged Jesus so, that people have been made to feel that they must be religious, jump through some religious hoops, to get right with God. They believe if they make the right sacrifice, say the right prayers, believe in the right creed, behave the right way, avoid the right sins, then they can earn some Divine favor.

This is why we call the unconditional love of God Jesus taught and embodied “the gospel.” This is why we call it good news. If we called it religion, it would be bad news. Religion would mean that there was still some secret to be unlocked, some ritual to be gotten right, some law to obey, some theology to grasp, or some little sin to be purged.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We don’t need religion, but I believe we still need church. However, we do not need church to get right with God. We need church to discover ways we can get right with our neighbor. We need church to discover ways we can get right with the planet. Because what this world needs more than anything else today is not more religious people who believe they possess the keys to salvation, but more people to come together to love their neighbors, their communities, their cities, the entire creation, with the unconditional, unreserved, unbounded love of God that Jesus embodied.

Or maybe, in the words of Ziggy Marley, we need more people who simply make love their religion. Not for the sake of getting right with God, but for the sake of love and only love.

Because when love, just love, is our religion, we are free to volunteer at Park View Mission and truly love our neighbors purely, unconditionally, authentically, without any thought of persuading them to worship or believe like us.

When love is our religion, we are free to serve selflessly and sacrificially in our community without any temptation to ever say anything like: “Look at us. Look how good we are. Don’t you want to join our church?”

When love is our religion, we are free to purchase learning kits to help children living in poverty prepare for kindergarten with no strings attached, with no hidden agenda whatsoever, just love.

When love is our religion, we are free to pray earnestly for Palestinians in Gaza, give to organizations like Week of Compassion to support humanitarian aid for those who are suffering with no other intention but to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

When love is our religion (just love, for the sake of love), when we love freely, unconditionally, unreservedly, fully, and purely, I believe we look like the enfleshed presence of God in the world.

And that, I believe, is what makes Jesus very happy.

And that, I believe, is what makes Jesus very happy.

[i] https://reallifecounseling.us/blog/stages-of-anger

[ii] https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-transactionalism/

Ashamed of the Gospel

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year B1 Comment

Mark 8:31-38 NRSV

I believe the church needs to re-discover its mission to be the church, to be the body of Christ, to be the very embodiment of Christ in this world. We are to continue his ministry in this world, doing the very same things that he did while he was on this earth: feeding the hungry, healing to the sick, sheltering the homeless, liberating the oppressed, elevating the rights of women, defending those judged by religious hypocrites, siding with the marginalized and speaking truth to power.

Now, there may be some who are thinking: “I just don’t know if I am ready to make such a commitment. I think I will stick to just going to church for now, and maybe I can be the church another time!”

 “After all, I have some things that I need to work out first in my life. My faith needs some work. I have my doubts. I have some questions. I have so much to learn, so much to figure out. And I have some very personal issues to deal with. I have this problem with anger. Sometimes I act or say before I think. So right now, if you don’t mind, until I can get my act more together, learn a little more, I think I will pass on this following Jesus thing. I have enough trouble these days just believing Jesus.”

Well, here’s my response to that: “Have you ever met Peter?”

You know, Saint Peter. The one Jesus called a “rock” and said, “on this rock, I will build my church.” The one Roman Catholics recognize as the first Pope. Perhaps you’ve heard of St. Peter’s Square, St. Peter’s Cathedral, and St. Peter’s Basilica. Peter: the one whom Jesus loved and trusted to carry on his ministry in this world.

You may think, there’s no way I can be like Saint Peter. Well, let me tell you a little more about this Peter fella.

One day, he is out on boat with the other disciples. It is the middle of the night, and there’s this big storm. The wind is howling. The waves are crashing against and into the boat. And as you could imagine, they were all scared to death. But then, Jesus comes to them, walking on the water, saying to them to have courage and to fear not.

But Peter…Peter has some doubts. Peter has some questions. Peter needs to work some things out: “Lord, if it is really you, then command me to come out on the water.” And Jesus responds, “Peter, you of little faith.”

Later, Jesus is instructing Peter about discipleship. Jesus talks about being humble, lowering one’s self, even pouring one’s self out. Jesus talks about selfless, self-expending, sacrificial love, being with and for the least of these.

But Peter…Peter has some issues. Peter has some things to learn. Peter gets into an argument with the other disciples about which one of them was the greatest.

After Jesus prays in the garden, surrendering himself to the will of God, Jesus does not resist arrest. Jesus practices what he teaches and turns the other cheek.

But Peter…Peter loses it. Peter acts before he thinks. In a fit of anger, Peter fights back. Peter draws his sword and begins swinging it at Jesus’ captors, cutting off the ear of one.

And in our text this morning, Jesus foretells that garden event. He talks about being rejected by organized religion. Jesus is essentially saying:

“When you preach the word of God that cuts like a sword; when you love all people and try to teach others to love all people; when you preach a grace that is extravagant and a love that is unconditional; when you talk about the need to make room at the table for all people; when you stand up for the rights of the poor and the marginalized; when you proclaim liberty to the oppressed and say that their lives matter; when you defend, forgive and friend sinners caught in the very act of sinning; when you tell lovers of money to sell their possessions and give the money to the poor; when you command a culture of war to be peacemakers; when you tell the powerful to turn the other cheek; when you call religious leaders hypocrites and point out their hypocrisy; when you criticize their faith without works, their theology without practice, and their tithing without justice; when you refuse to tolerate intolerance; when you do these things that I do,” says Jesus, “then the self-righteous-powers-that-be will rise up, and they will hate. They will come against you with all that they have, and they will come against you in name of God. They will do anything and everything that is in their power to stop you, even if it means killing you.”

But Peter…Peter has some serious issues with that. Peter says to Jesus: “No way! Stop talking like that. This is not right. You are crazy. We will not let this happen!”

Then, having had about all that he could stand of Peter and his nonsense and excuses: his doubts, his questioning, his anger, his lack of faith, his personal issues, all the mess that he needs to work out, Jesus responds to Peter with some of the harshest words ever recorded by Jesus: “Get behind me, Satan.”

Jesus, calls Peter, “Satan.”

And yet, that did not stop Jesus from loving Peter, from using Peter. Jesus kept teaching Peter, kept calling Peter, and kept leading Peter to do his work in the world. In fact, that did not stop Jesus from calling Peter to start his church in the world.

So, if you do not feel like you can follow Jesus, and if your excuses are: that you have doubts; or you have questions; or you are just not ready; or you have some issues to work out; or even have days you feel unworthy, even have days you know you resemble Satan more than God; then you are going to have to come up with some better excuses, because as Peter teaches us: with Jesus, those excuses simply don’t fly!

So, what is it that is really keeping so many today who call themselves Christian from actually following Jesus?

After Jesus is arrested, Peter goes into the courtyard of the High Priest. It is a cold night, so he gathers with some folks who had started a fire to warm themselves. A servant girl begins staring at Peter and says: “This man was with Jesus. He traveled around with him doing the things that Jesus did, saying the things that Jesus said.” But Peter denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not even know this Jesus.”

A little later, another saw him and said: “You are a disciple, a disciple of Jesus who defended, forgave and friended sinners. You welcomed strangers, visited prisoners, clothed the naked, gave water to the thirsty, and fed the hungry. You restored lepers, elevated the status of women, gave dignity to Eunuchs, and offered community to lepers. But, again, Peter denied it.

About an hour had passed and another man began to insist saying: “Certainly this man was with Him, for he is a Galilean too. You called out hypocrisy on the behalf of widows. You challenged the status quo on the behalf of the sick. You disobeyed the laws of God on the behalf of the suffering.” But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about!”

Peter’s denials had nothing to do with his lack of faith. His denials, his refusal to take up his cross, his failure to follow in the selfless, sacrificial way of Jesus had nothing to do with his doubts and his questions, his personal issues and poor anger management because, as Jesus pointed out over and over, those excuses simply don’t cut it. Peter’s failure was shame.

Peter had trouble following Jesus because he was ashamed of the gospel.  He was ashamed of what the gospel stood for and for whom the gospel stood.

Which raises the question: “Could this be the reason why so many churches today are failing miserably in answering the call to follow the way of love that Jesus taught his disciples?”

Peter was ashamed to love, because living among voices clamoring to take their country back, it was more popular to hate.

Peter was ashamed to identify with the least because it was more popular to identify with the greatest.

Peter was ashamed to defend and forgive sinners because it was more popular to throw rocks.

Peter was ashamed to welcome and elevate little children because it was more popular to send them away.

Peter was ashamed to be last because it was more popular to be first.

Peter was ashamed to tell the truth because it was more popular to embrace a lie.

Peter was ashamed to embrace a way of humility because it was more popular to be arrogant, proud, condescending, and self-important.

Peter was ashamed to share his wealth because it was more popular to hold on to it.

Peter was ashamed to side with the poor, because it was more popular to call them “lazy.”

Peter was ashamed to include foreigners, because it was more popular to dehumanize them by calling them “aliens.”

Peter was ashamed to visit prisoners because it was popular to treat them as animals.

Peter was ashamed to stand up for the marginalized because it was more popular to call them “abominations.”

Peter was ashamed to respect the basic rights of women, because it was more popular to subjugate them.

Peter was ashamed to turn the other cheek because it was more popular to draw a sword.

Peter was ashamed to pick up and carry a cross, because it was more popular to pick up and carry a weapon of war.

And Jesus said: “Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

So, are we ready to follow Jesus? Are we ready to give sacrificially and serve graciously? If not, what’s our excuse? We must remember, with Jesus, a lack of faith, having a lot of questions and some serious issues, or not having ourselves together are no excuses at all!

Could it be that much of what is wrong with the church today is shame? Christians are ashamed of the gospel, what the gospel stands for and for whom it stands. Maybe it is due to peer pressure from family or friends, or to fear of losing some political or societal clout. The truth is there are too many who claim to follow Jesus who are ashamed to stand on the side of children like Nex Benedict and ashamed to stand against popular voices of hate like Moms for Liberty and other MAGA Christian Nationalists.

The good news is that Peter dealt with his shame. Peter repented, and this one Jesus called “Satan,” helped start the church and has been named by the Church as its first Pope.

And the good news for the church this morning is that there’s still a little time to deal with its shame.

When Monday Morning Comes

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year B2 Comments

Mark 1:9-15 NRSV

One moment, Jesus is overcome with joy in the presence of God as the heavens were “torn apart” and the Spirit of God descends upon him “like a dove.” A voice comes from heaven: “This is my Son the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

And then, without warning, “immediately,” says Mark, Jesus is driven into the wilderness for forty days, hurled into a place of trials and temptations, into a place where God seemed to be absent.

At one time, when I was much younger and more naïve, much less experienced in this world, this passage of scripture used to bother me. For what kind of God would fill Jesus with the light of holy love and joy one moment only to drive him into the dark wilderness in the next moment?

Well, as I have grown older, I no longer struggle with this question. Because the reality is that the Spirit of God does not have to drive us into a wilderness. We are already there. We are there because we are human, and life itself is a rollercoaster of joyous moments and wilderness moments. We encounter suffering and trials in life, not because God drives us into it, but because we are earthly creatures living in a fragmented world.

Like happens with you and me, one moment, Jesus is standing in presence of God. The next moment, he’s standing in a seemingly God-forsaken wilderness.

Last Sunday, we were invited to go the mountaintop with Jesus. It was a magnificent scene as we were standing in the very majestic presence of the Holy One, the creator of all that is. There, we were enveloped by Love, Love’s self.

But then, Monday morning came. It came for me personally when I woke to the news that my Uncle Ernie had died.

The unexpected and harsh news from my brother was especially tragic considering the recent death of Ernie’s beloved wife, my Aunt Ann, who died right after Thanksgiving. Uncle Ernie had been overwhelmed with grief and was having a difficult moving forward.

Like Jesus, one day we experience the holy presence of God, but then, Monday morning comes, and we are hurled into the wilderness.

Did you hear the good news in that sentence? “Like Jesus…” The good news of the Christian faith is that God understands. The good news is that God empathizes. The good news of the gospel is that God has experienced this world as we often experience it through the person of Jesus of Nazareth.

But there’s even better news as we read Mark’s gospel. It’s just one short sentence, but it is a beautiful sentence. Mark says: “And the angels waited on him.”

Angels, representing God’s providence and presence waited on Jesus. Suffering, struggle, and trial are present in the wilderness, but so is God! Throughout Jesus’ forty days, God was not far away, and God was not absent! God was with Jesus, ministering to him, serving him, waiting on him.

And the good news is that as angels were there for Jesus in his wilderness, we can find angels sent by God to be there for us.

Last Saturday, Uncle Ernie’s only child, my cousin Trey, had the joy of coaching the basketball team of his five-year old son, Cooper. Cooper was named after our beloved grandmother Sarah Jane Cooper. If you are a parent you may remember, it was one of those basketball games where the final score is something like 8 to 4. It was the second to last game of the season. During that game, Cooper scored his very first basket. In the moment the ball went through that hoop, knowing my cousin Trey and his love for basketball, I am sure he felt like the heavens had opened up, and the Spirit of God had descended upon him.

The very next day, Trey went to visit his Dad, who he had checked on every weekend since his mother died a couple months ago. Trey opened the front door and called, “Dad! It’s me Trey.” Hearing no answer, he walked into his father’s bedroom and found him lying face down in the bed unresponsive. Observing that he was barely breathing, he immediately called 911.

One day, Trey is experiencing heaven on earth coaching his son’s basketball game. The next day, he’s hurled into a wilderness.

Later that night, after being told by a doctor that his father’s death was imminent, Trey and his wife Kaylee got on the elevator and headed to the ICU floor. As soon as they stepped off the elevator, they immediately heard a kind, inqusitive voice from a nurse who was sitting at a desk: “Trey, is that you?”

The nurse then introduced herself to Trey and Kaylee as the granddaughter of Ms. Ava who lived next door to our grandmother when Trey was growing up. She said: “Trey, when I would visit my grandmother, I remember watching you and your father playing in your grandmother’s backyard.” She then talked about how much she loved our grandmother, so much so, that she named her daughter Sarah Jane after her. Trey said, “we named our son Cooper after her!

Trey said that Ms. Ava’s granddaughter then empathetically walked them to the room where his father was. She then went and found two recliners which she pushed into the room so Trey and Kaylee could sit Uncle Ernie’s bedside his father during his final hours.

The good news is that when we find ourselves in the wilderness, there are angels are among us, reminding us like a nurse with a daughter named Sarah Jane reminded Trey, that God never leaves us nor forsakes us. Even in the darkest experiences in this wilderness called life, God is always present.

The Rev. Fred Rogers put it this way: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

This is especially good news this Sunday, because whether or not we are ready for it, Monday morning is coming.

On Monday morning, anxiety is usually your alarm. You are awakened with a list of countless worries. If tomorrow morning is anything like the last few mornings, added to our fretful list are the children who were injured in yet another horrific mass shooting. You worry about your own children, your grandchildren, great-grandchildren. You worry knowing that they are unsafe wherever they are, at a ballgame, at school, at a party, even at church. You grieve over the state of our country. You anguish that so many of your friends have acquiesced to the notion that nothing can be done to prevent this from happening again.

The good news, there are angels among us.

Angels like Kansas City Chiefs offensive guard Trey Smith who saw a frightened boy with his father during the shooting and used his WWE title belt to comfort the boy saying: “Hey buddy, you’re the champion. No one’s going to hurt you, man. We’ve got your back.” Then, after they were loaded onto a bus, he talked to the boy about wrestling to keep his mind off the frightening and chaotic scene.

There are angels among us like Chiefs running back Clyde Edwards-Helaire who also sheltered a boy during the shooting. The boy’s mother posted on social media: “Huge thank you to Clyde Edwards #25 for sheltering and getting [my son Zach] to safety… Clyde even went back to check on Zach to make sure he was still doing ok. What a great human being!”

And there are other angels among us living with a renewed determination to continue fighting for sensible gun laws, committed do doing more than sending thoughts and prayers.

This wilderness experience of Jesus is often called “the temptation of Jesus.” I believe we are sometimes tempted to believe that we can make it through our wilderness alone, on our own power. We are tempted to believe that our own physical power or even our own spiritual power can see us through our wilderness experiences.

However, we must be able to humbly recognize that we need another power. For if the Son of God needed angels to wait on him in his wilderness, how much more do we need angels to get through ours? How much more do we need God’s abiding presence? How much more do we need one another? How much more do we need those who have been called to be God’s transforming agents in this world, those who call themselves disciples fighting every day to make this world a more just and peaceful place to live, who are, even now, sitting all around us?

Which leads to this question: Come Monday, who might need us? Who might need us to wait on them, shelter them, calm and comfort them, fight for and vote for their safety.

It’s Sunday morning.  Gathered here in the presence of God, we are loved, and we are affirmed. The heavens are open. God’s Spirit fills this room, and God is speaking to our hearts.

In a few moments, we will receive the bread and the cup, and we will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are loved with a grace that is greater than our sins. We will pray. We will sing a hymn. And we will make commitments and our re-commitments. During the Benediction you will hear the wonderful words: “You are God’s beloved children, with whom God is well pleased.”

Yes, it is Sunday morning, and we are here in the very presence of God. But we can be certain of this:  Monday morning is coming. For some of us Monday morning may come this Sunday afternoon. As sure as we are here, the wilderness coming. The good news is: we will get through it. Something good will come out of it. Our fears will be relieved. Mercy will be given. Justice will prevail. Peace will come.  Love will win.

How can I be so confident?  Because when I look around this room, you know what I see?  I see angels.

Listen to Him

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

 

Mark 9:2-9 NRSV

Jesus took just a few of his disciples, Peter, James, and John, with him up a high mountain by themselves.

I believe that is exactly where Jesus wants to take us this morning. He wants to take all of us here this morning, who represent just a few of his disciples in this world, up a high mountain.

Up high to a sacred, transcendent place where we can see the world around us more fully; and thus, see ourselves more honestly and see Jesus more abundantly— Up high to a holy place where our eyes are magnified, and our senses are heightened to a brand new, illuminated reality.

And there, by ourselves, Jesus wants to spend some very intimate moments with us. He wants to personally speak to us, speak to our hearts in a way that will transfigure us, transform us, change us forever.

So, this morning, right now, I want to invite you to take Jesus by the hand, and just for a few moments, leave behind your world, all your troubles and burdens, all the plans that you have already made for this day, even for this hour, and allow Jesus to take you up high to this place that we all need to go.

So, let’s go. Let’s take his hand and walk with him. Although we do not know exactly where we’re going, and although we do not even always fully understand who this Jesus is who is leading us, let’s just follow—let us faithfully, and even somewhat fearfully, follow our Lord as he leads us upward.

As soon as we get to the top, somehow, some mysterious way, although it is beyond our mortal comprehension, it is revealed to us that this Jesus is the fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures. He is the culmination of the Law and Moses and the messages of Elijah and the prophets. For a moment, however fleeting, our eyes see it. And our ears hear an affirmation. It is inexplicable, yet undeniable: A divine affirmation that he is none other than the beloved Son of God sent into the world, not to condemn the world, but to save the world (John 3:17).

It is a magnificent scene. We are standing in the very majestic presence of the Holy One,—the creator of all that is. We are enveloped by Love, Love’s self. We are so enamored that we want nothing more than to make this place our home.

 As we are begging to stay, we are interrupted by what first sounds like thunder. In our fearful silence we hear three words from heaven that we’ve have heard before. In fact, we heard it the very first time we met this Jesus, the first time we heard Matthew, Mark, Luke and John tell his story, the first time we heard him speak, but this time we hear it even more convincingly, more credibly and more divinely: “Listen to him.”

The words are so real and so true, that even if it is just for a moment, all of our doubt vanishes, as we recognize that these three words, this holy command is the key to not only our salvation and the salvation of all humanity, but it is the key for the redemption of all creation.

 We cannot help but to fall to the ground. Awe and fear and wonder paralyze us. Unable to move, barely able to breathe, our heart feeling like it is about to beat out of our chest, his hand reaches out and touches us. A peace beyond all understanding overshadows us (Phil 4:4). And we look up and the only one we see, the only thing we see is Jesus…like we’ve never seen him before.

 And we listen to him as he looks us in the eyes, calls us by name, and fulfills the holy scriptures in our hearing by saying:

I am your God, and I am Love. In love, I created you and formed you with my own hands. Before you knew me, I knew you; and before you loved me, I loved you (Jer 1:5). I love you with all that I am, with a love that is without conditions, without reservations and without limits (Rom 5:8). Please understand what this means. I do not love you like the Pharisees who say that they love you but hate your sin. For my love does not keep a record of wrongdoing (1 Cor 13:5). Please know that in my eyes, your sins have been removed as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12) and my love for you will never end (1 Cor 13:8).

Listen to me, you must know that there is absolutely nothing in all of creation, in heaven or on earth, not even death, that can ever separate you from my love (Rom 8:39).

Please do not doubt that I will never leave nor forsake you (Deut 31:6). I am the God of love, mercy and compassion. I am the God of empathy and grace. I love you with a love that cannot be earned and can never be forfeited simply because you are my beloved children (2 Cor 6:18).

You were created by me, you came from me; therefore, like branches to a vine (John 15:5) you are a part of me. And when your journey of life on this earth ends, you will return to me. Listen to me, for I want you to continue this journey consciously with me, alongside me. Because I want you to forever be with me, so close to me that you always know that my grace envelops you, my love enfolds you (Luke 13:34).

I know all of your thoughts. I hear all of your words. I see all of your actions. I am aware of all of your inactions. I know the best you. I know the potential you. And I know the worst you. And I even know the potential evil within you. And I love you. I love you because you are beautiful, made in my own image, an expression of my most intimate love (Psalm 139 and Gen 1:27).

Please do not judge yourself. Don’t ever do that. And never let the judgment of others bother you. Let my love touch the deepest, most hidden corners of your soul and reveal your own beauty, a beauty that you have lost sight of, but which will be revealed to you again in the light of my grace (Psalm 139:7).

Listen to me. For I want this to be the very heart of your faith in me. Your faith is not about right beliefs or even right actions. Your faith is not about being against this or that, nor is it about being for this or that. The core of your faith is about your identity, your very being, as my beloved child, as a part of me (Gal 2:20).

This is the joy of living in the Spirit. This is what you taste even now on this mountain. My face shines. Even my garments are aglow. For my heart, my core, my very being is infused with the love of God, and so is yours. Listen to me, and your face will shine also (Gal 5:16-26).

Listen to me. Take and eat, for this is my body broken and given for you. Eat, chew, swallow my love for you. You don’t have to fully comprehend it, just accept it, eat it, let it go into your body and always remember that you are what you eat (Matt 26:26). You are my body. Remember, when Saul was persecuting the Church, I asked him, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” For you are the embodiment of my love in this world.

Take this cup and drink. Drink my grace. Consume my forgiveness. And then be what you drink. This is your identity. This is who you are. This is how you live. Live in the Spirit of my love that is inside of you, apart of you, and you will bear the fruits of that Spirit (Col 1).

I know that this world is fragile and fragmented. Death, divorce, disease, discrimination, bigotry, violence, greed and the lust for power are everywhere. But listen to me. So am I. I am everywhere suffering with you. When you weep, I weep (John 11:35).

But I am also there resurrecting, redeeming, restoring, re-creating. I am everywhere working all things together for the good. I am everywhere wringing whatever good can be wrung out of every tragedy. I am everywhere in this world transforming despair into hope; transfiguring brokenness into wholeness, and changing death into life, because I love this world and every creature in it. That is why I am here (Rom 8:28).

It is also why you are here (John 20:21).

So, come closer to me, let me wipe away your tears (Rev. 21:4), let my mouth come close to your ear and say to you again and again, I love you. I love you. I love you. Let me say it until you not only believe it, but become it, be it, live it. Let my love flow through you (John 15:5).

We say, “Jesus, it is good that we stay here forever!”

But Jesus responds by telling us what we already knew. It is now time to come down from the mountain. But unlike the time the first disciples who went with him to this sacred higher ground, Jesus tells us to share this experience with all people (Matthew 28:19).

As we walk down the mountain with Jesus, we ask: “Why did you want Peter, James, and John to wait to share their experience until after your death and resurrection?”

And Jesus responds:

My love for you and for this world is so deep, my grace is so wide, my mercy is so high that no one would believe it unless God did something absolutely earth shaking (Eph 3:18).

 To reveal the height the breadth and the depth of God’s love for this world, God came into the world offering the world the very best gift that God had to offer. God came into the world knowing that people, especially the people who claimed to be the people of God, would not receive that gift and would nail that gift to a tree. And God would resurrect that gift giving that gift right back to the very ones who crucified him (John 1:11).

Thus, revealing to all of creation, that if God can turn around the killing of God, then there is nothing that God cannot turn around. If God can resurrect, redeem, restore the killing of God, then there is hope for us all (Rom 8:11).

And with all of creation, we are changed. We are transformed. We are forever transfigured (2 Cor 5:17).