Category: Easter

I Have Seen the Lord!

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

John 20:1-18 NRSV

It’s Easter, and all over the world preachers are feeling the pressure to preach the better-than-the-average sermon. All week they’ve been burdened to come up with something insightful, something profound, to say about this story of stories, preferably something their congregations have never heard before. Oh, the pressure!

Each week for a sermon, I write, on average, 1,800 words. This is the number of words that I, with my seasoned homiletical and ecclesial acuity, have deemed theologically and linguistically necessary to bequeath the congregation an appropriate word from the Lord. And on the Sundays I need to be better than average, like Easter, I am always tempted to go a little longer, like upward to 2,000 words or more.

Now, my wife Lori believes that I should be able to write a sermon, and she’d prefer I write a sermon, even for Easter, with much fewer words. But Lori hasn’t been to seminary, I tell myself.

That’s why, by the way, every now and again, I throw in seminary words like “ecclesial” and smart-sounding words like “bequeath”—to convince the congregation, and myself, that I know what I’m doing up here. And we preachers especially like to use big words on Easter!

However, as I prepared for today’s sermon, I came to realize that Lori may be right.  In fact, esteemed professor of homiletics Karoline Lewis, points out that the best Easter sermon ever delivered, and the sermon we desperately need to hear again today, was nowhere close to 1,800 words. It contained 5. Lewis says that the best Easter sermon ever delivered was proclaimed by Mary Magdalene on that first Easter morning: “I have seen the Lord!”[i]

That’s it. There’s your Easter sermon. “I have seen the Lord!” Now, let’s sing a hymn, have communion, and pass the peace!

Now, because I don’t want to be accused of being lazy on Easter, I will attempt to say a little more. But I tend agree with Rev. Lewis that, too often, our preaching, especially on Easter, is just “too much –too much explanation, too much justification, too much rationalization.” She says our preaching is too much expository and not enough experiential. It’s too much illustrational and not enough incarnational. She argues preaching needs to be less performance and more personal, more down-to-earth, more authentic.

That struck a chord with me this week, as I recently heard local colleague make the shocking assertion, that on some days, he has this sinking feeling that God is not in Lynchburg.

Now, that’s a dark statement coming from anyone, but coming from a pastor in this town, it’s especially chilling. Almost as chilling as it is ironic with the vast number of churches in our city.

Last year, one of my guilty pleasures in life was binging the dark TV drama series called “Preacher.” Lori didn’t care for it. I loved it. It’s a story based on a comic book hero, a Texas Preacher, who’s on a mission in Louisiana searching for God who’s gone missing. God just got tired of being God one day, vacated the throne, got on motorcycle, and headed to New Orleans to listen to some good jazz and have a good time. It’s a very dark and rather bloody story about the chaos that ensues when God forsakes and abandons the world. All hell literally breaks loose as vampires, fallen angels, demons, and the devil himself wreak havoc upon the earth.

And my colleague says this is what it can sometimes feel like serving as a pastor in Lynchburg, Virginia. He says he sometimes wants to cry out like Jesus from the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?”

Maybe we have had days when we have wanted to do the same.

The lack of affordable housing, the number of people living with food insecurity, the plans to cut spending on public schools and social services, the ugliness on the city council—it can all seem like God has left the city limits.

Just last week, an owner of a new restaurant told me that he recently served dinner to a member of the city council who had the hateful audacity to advise him to refuse service to members of the LGBTQ community.

And then we have the number of people who claim to be Christians or even “Champions for Christ” who support ways that the exact opposite of the way of the inclusive, universal, unconditional love that Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied.

Looking at some parts of our city, we can easily identify with Jesus when he lamented what seemed like the absence of God in Jerusalem, crying: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”

And you don’t even need to be religious to believe that God may have even fled the country—a nation where people can be snatched from their homes and disappeared to a gulag in El Salvador without any recourse. Bishop William Barber notes: “Like the lynching trees of the South and the crosses of Rome, these public acts of brutality are designed to inspire fear that compels the masses to comply. But we cannot comply.”[ii]

This is why on this Easter Sunday, we need to hear the personal, authentic, first-person, five-word sermon of Mary Magdalene: “I have seen the Lord!” We need a first-hand witness of the resurrection, not a third-person account, confession, or creed.

In these dark, seemingly God-forsaken days, we don’t need to hear the stale and old: “He was crucified, dead, and buried; the third day he rose from the dead…” or “Christ the Lord is risen; he is risen indeed.” That’s nice, that’s good, but these days, we need more.

We need a first-person, eye-witness testimony. We need to hear of a new and fresh encounter. We need somebody to stand up before us today and exclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

As we demonstrated during our Maundy Thursday service, the good news is that we can easily point out all the places in Lynchburg where we have seen the Lord, where there is resurrection in the midst of ruin; the light of new life in the shadows of death; love, when all that seems visible is hate. There’s much goodness, generosity and compassion in the midst of all the meanness, selfishness and cruelty: Parkview Mission, Interfaith Outreach, Meals on Wheels, The Free Clinic…It would take much more 1,800 words to name all of the non-profits and organizations that are being the hands and feet of the Lord in this town.

 But proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord,” means even more than that.

“I have seen the Lord” means personally bearing witness to the resurrection. It means being a first-person, eyewitness, living testimony of Easter.

In the hateful darkness of a violent world that has rejected the way of Jesus and would crucify him all over again if it got the chance, “I have seen the Lord” means demonstrating that there is another way of being in the world— a loving, justice-seeking, non-violent way that embodies all that is life-giving. It means living and giving and loving and serving in such a way, that when others see you, watch you, listen to you, they say: “Wait one second. Did I just see the Lord?”

“I have seen the Lord” insists that the ways of love will always win over the ways of hate.

“I have seen the Lord” affirms that the way of peace will always overcome the way of violence.

“I have seen the Lord” confirms that the truth of kindness, mercy and decency will always be louder than the con of fear, confusion, and chaos.

“I have seen the Lord” asserts that the voices of compassion will always be heard over the clamor of cruelty and retaliation.”

“I have seen the Lord” is what Gandhi proclaimed when he shared a vision of a world where all of creation and every living creature is revered and respected, thriving in peace and harmony, when all most can see is ecological devastation, violence, war, oppression, injustice, colonialism, and imperialism.

“I have seen the Lord” were the exact words of Martin Luther King Jr. when he preached on the day before his assassination: “I have seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

“I have seen the Lord” is a proclamation that neither death by starvation in India, nor death by a bullet in Memphis, nor death on a cross in Jerusalem, can prevent love from winning and justice from coming.

Mary’s proclamation “I have seen the Lord” proclaims not only that a single stone was rolled away 2,000 years ago, but countless stones are still being rolled away today, all the stones that are used to prevent new life from rising: racist stones blocking paths to citizenship; bigoted stones blocking the doors of closets; corrupt stones blocking the power of free speech and due process; greedy stones blocking care for the environment; deceptive stones blocking the truth of science and history; and violent stones blocking any possibility of new life, justice, and peace.

“I have seen the Lord” is the justice those are demanding on the behalf of Abrego Garcia and every person deported unjustly. It’s the defiance of Harvard University, and the cry of all protesting the rise of fascism.

“I have seen the Lord,” when we speak it into our own lives, become words that have the power to roll back all the stones that confine and constrain the possibility that liberty and justice, dignity and respect can be for all people.

But “I have seen the Lord” is so counter-cultural, so counter-intuitive, often defying what we see with our own eyes, that it can be difficult to speak it. Especially to speak it personally, authentically in the first-person, to speak it with faith and conviction. It’s much easier to walk out of this service this morning and recite a third-person creed, “Christ the Lord is risen. He is risen indeed” than it is to honestly say in the first-person, “I have seen the Lord!”

Perhaps, like anything difficult, we need to practice it, and practice it daily.

So, in what places do you need practice it today? In front of what tomb do you need proclaim resurrection today?

What stone in your life needs to be removed today so you can be free?

What’s preventing you today from experiencing the joy of new life? What is blocking you today from enjoying peace, possessing hope, and knowing love?

On this Easter morning, when we walk out of this church building, where’s the first place we need to go to proclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

Who do we know that may be unable to say it today, but needs to hear it, because they have been hiding in the tombs too long?

Today, we thank God for Mary Magdalene, the preacher of the best Easter sermon ever proclaimed, the good news we all need to hear today: “I have seen the Lord!”

[i] Sermon inspired by the thoughts of Rev. Dr. Karoline Lewis shared in an article entitled: True Resurrection, March 20, 2016

[ii] From The Power of a Moral Opposition: A Holy Saturday Reflection, April 19, 2025.

A Cloudy Ascension Sunday on Mother’s Day

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year B2 Comments
Photo taken by Carrie Knutsen

Acts 1:6-11 NRSV

In today’s epistle lesson, on what the church traditionally calls Ascension Sunday, we have one of the first hints of how we are capable of mucking up the purposes of God in this world.

 It’s the first inkling of how we got to this place today where the Christianity not only doesn’t look anything like the way of love that Jesus taught and embodied, but in many ways, looks like the exact opposite.

The risen Christ has been telling his followers for months that he would one day leave them and how he expected them to continue his mission in the world loving one another as he loved, by being his hands and feet in the world, and in today’s lesson, we read where time had come. But before he departed, they asked him: “When will you come again and restore the kingdom to Israel?”

 Jesus replied: “It is not for you to know the time or the period…But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

With those words, he ascended into heaven and left the followers of standing there, looking up into the clouds.

And while they had their heads in the clouds, suddenly, angles show up saying: “Why do you stand there looking up toward heaven?”

Jesus’ followers were instructed to get their heads out of the clouds. They didn’t need to be alarmed about the departure of Jesus, because one day, God’s kingdom would fully come, the day is certainly coming when love will finally win. The disciples are not told when, but they didn’t need to know.

“All you need to know,” said the angels, is that the Kingdom is coming. Justice will prevail. Love will eventually win, and here’s the thing, you are going help to make that happen! That is, if you get your head out of the clouds and keep loving this world as you witnessed Jesus loving this world, if you keep being his “witnesses to the ends of the earth.”

I believe this wonderful Ascension story has much to teach today’s church that seems that still seems to have its head somewhere in the distant clouds.

Angels say: “Church, God needs you to get your heads out of the clouds, get your minds off going to heaven, and come back down to earth and to do something for this world. Do the things that you witnessed Jesus do in the gospels. Feed the hungry. Make a place at the table for the left out and the left behind. Stand up and speak out advocating for those who are marginalized by sick religion and greedy politics. Love your neighbor as yourself. Give something, create something, be something that will make a positive difference in the world, especially in the worlds of those considered to be the least of these.

Get your heads out of the clouds, come back down to earth and go to Jerusalem. Go all the way to Richmond and Washington DC to be public moral witnesses of the Jesus who preached good news to the poor and freedom for the oppressed. Why are all of you hunkered up in one place? Don’t close yourself up in a sanctuary of comfort and security. Get out of here. Go into all of Judea. Go all over Central Virginia. Go to places like Samaria and Palestine, those place that you may not want to go. Be witnesses to the ends of the earth to the good news of the inclusive, unconditional, generous love of God that Jesus revealed, embodied, and commanded.

And what’s the church’s response:

But these clouds are so pretty. They are so soft. So comforting. Let’s just stay right here. Let’s keep our heads in the clouds.

Giving ourselves to transform the world seems too risky, too hard, just too exhausting. Everyone knows that standing up for the marginalized won’t get you very far in this world, and fighting for the rights of the oppressed will only get you in trouble. It’s all too costly. After all, look what it cost Jesus.

So, instead of all of that, let’s make the faith about these pretty clouds. We can even get some smoke machines to create some real clouds in our worship centers. Instead of inspiring people to give, live and love like Jesus, let’s just encourage people to worship Jesus. Instead asking people to feed the hungry and fight for the least of these, let’s just study Jesus with a cup of coffee, sing praise hymns to Jesus and listen to sermons about Jesus.

We are going to take this clear, but very uncomfortable, call to go into all the world to fight for the least of these, and we are going to cloud it up by turning it into a religion, better yet, we are going to make it a blissful, personal, relationship that we must have as a ticket to heaven.

Then, we can use this ticket-to-experience-the-clouds-of-heaven- while-avoiding-the fires-of-hell to frighten people to do things that serve us. We can cloud it up a bit more and get people to love the Bible more than they love Jesus. Then we can use the Bible as a tool, really as weapon, to protect our power and privilege, to keep us comfortable and to even make us some money.

And if we must compromise a little, even cloud it up more with some dark, mean, sinister clouds to get it, that will be ok. If we have to lie a little,  hurt the planet a little, stir up a little racism and bigotry, scapegoat a group of people, pay workers a low wage, even embrace a little Nazism along the way, it will be worth it. Because at least we will be more comfortable, our taxes will be lower, and our wealth, you know, it will eventually trickle down to the least, right?

To say that we have clouded up what it means to be a public witness doing the things that Jesus did in this world is an understatement.

Which makes it all the more ironic, that this year, Ascension Sunday falls on Mother’s Day. Because we have done the exact same thing to the original Mother’s Day proclamation written by a prophet named Julia Ward Howe in 1870. We have taken a clear call to action, a summons to work and sacrifice to make this world more loving, more peaceful and more just and clouded it up creating something that serves our own interests.

Howe writes:

Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:

“We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies.

Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.

Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.

It says: “Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”

Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.

And what was the response?

We’ve all become more committed to the general interests of peace? To the relearning of charity, mercy, and patience? To disarmament? To the recognition of the one great human family? To living for God and not for Caesar?

No, that’s too risky, too costly, too woke. I tell ya what. Let’s make it about clouds, soft, fluffy, white clouds.

And in 1914, a white supremacist named Woodrow Wilson proclaimed Mother’s Day a national holiday– as a moral call for world peace and justice? As a call for mercy and patience? A call for a world summit of women to negotiate how nations can finally live in harmony?

 Nope. He clouded it up, making it a “public expression of our love and reverence for all mothers.” Instead of making it a call for a ceasefire, a call to disarm, and to work for peace; instead of making it a plea to create sensible gun laws, we will make it about flowers, candy and greeting cards.

And what was the church’s response to the original Mother’s Day proclamation?

Do we finally answer our call to be prophetic witnesses for world peace and justice? Do we finally stand up for God’s children everywhere who are bullied, mistreated, and harmed for being different, for being poor, for belonging to another ethnicity or nationality or religion?

In the words of Hosea, do we finally rise up and “fall upon those who do harm” to any of God’s children, even if they are from Samaria or Palestine, “like a bear robbed of her cubs” (Hosea 13:8)? Whenever we see injustice in our world, whether it comes out of Washington DC, Richmond or Lynchburg, do we finally echo the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For a long time I have held my peace, I have kept still and restrained myself; now I will cry out like a woman in labor, I will gasp and pant” (Isaiah 42:14)?

No. That’s too risky. It’s much too costly. So, what do we do? We cloud it up. We sentimentalize it. We make this day in the church about recognizing the oldest mother and the youngest mother with flowers. We make it about giving a special gift to all mothers who attend worship.

And on Mother’s Day in 2024, the church looks nothing like the clarion call of Julia Howe to be prophetic voices of peace and justice, as on this Ascension Sunday, it looks nothing like the summon of angels to go into all the world to live, serve and love like Jesus.

Now, I love my mother. I called her first thing this morning. Most of us love our mothers. We wouldn’t be here without them. And I love church. I love worship. I love our faith. But the truth is: we’ve clouded it all up.

Today, on this cloudy Ascension Sunday on Mother’s Day, I believe God wants those who claim to be friends of Jesus to get our heads out of the clouds to heed the clear call of angels and a prophet named Julia. Let’s be moral witnesses continuing the work of Jesus in this world. And today, let’s rise up with women everywhere to be public prophetic voices for peace and for justice, a holy movement for wholeness in this fragmented world.

Being a Friend of Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year B2 Comments
The actual note that was left by the truck driver in the story.

John 15:9-17 NRSV

This may sound strange, even a bit offensive, but I suspect some of you can relate. I struggle these days referring to myself as a “Christian.” As senior minister of the First Christian Church, part of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), it grieves me that the word “Christian” has been co-opted by folks who espouse the exact opposite views of Jesus, views that are best described as “anti-Christ.”

Sadly, if the word “Christian” is used to describe anything these days, whether it is “a Christian University,” or just “Christian values,” I automatically assume that the school or the values being described are diametrically opposed to the values of Jesus.

Allow me to share a story which illustrates this sad reality.

While I was a serving with the First Christian Church in Fort Smith, Arkansas, there was a teen in the church who was struggling with her gender identity. So much so, that it prompted me to attempt to create a support group for her and other teens who were struggling with the same issues. I contacted a school teacher who was a member of the LGBTQ community who had been attending to our worship services and asked her if she would meet with me to discuss the possibility of her leading a support group. She agreed to meet me at a restaurant after worship that Sunday to discuss it further.

I walked into the restaurant, looked around, and saw her sitting at the bar. I sat down on a stool beside her to her left. She immediately started talking about how she enjoyed the service. After a few minutes of talking about church, she saw a few friends on the other side of the restaurant and excused herself to go over and say “hello.”

It was then that this gentlemen, who was seated a couple of stools over from me, moved over to sit next to me.

He said, “Forgive my eavesdropping, but did I hear you were a Christian pastor?”

When I told him that I was, he began telling me how God must have led him into the restaurant that day. He went on to tell me that he was a truck driver who was just passing through that day. With religious language, he told me how he grew up in church, but had since “fallen away from the church and the from Lord.” But lately, the Lord had led him to listen to these “Christian” radio programs while driving truck, and it was making him consider coming back to church. And how he couldn’t believe he was now sitting beside a pastor at a bar of all places!”

I smiled politely, but I have to admit he lost me as soon as he said, “Christian radio.”

As soon as the truck driver’s meal arrived, the school teacher returned, and we immediately began discussing our vision for a support group to help LGBTQ youth in the city. After we talked for some time, she got up again to say goodbye to her friends who were leaving.

It was then that the truck driver leaned over to me and asked, “You do know what the law says about her don’t you?”

I replied, “What? Arkansas law?”

“No,” he said. “I am talking about the law, you know, the Bible.”

I responded, “Not sure if I know what laws you are referring to, but when they asked Jesus what the greatest law was, he replied, ‘Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.’ And he said, ‘that on these two laws hang all of the laws in the Bible.’”

The school teacher returned to the bar, and the truck driver got up, picked up his plate and drink, and moved back to his original seat.

As we finished our conversation about the support group, we never saw that the truck driver had left the restaurant without saying goodbye. How Christian was that? Before we got our checks, the bartender walked over to us, and asked me if I was a pastor. After the school teacher introduced me as her pastor, the bartender asked I knew the man who was sitting beside me. When I said “no” explaining that we had just met, she said, “Well, he left this note to warn me about you on the back of his receipt: ‘Beware of this guy on your left, my right. He is a demon in disguise.'”

This is just one example of how upside-down Christianity is today. It’s so backwards that when you quote Jesus saying that the greatest commandment is to love our neighbors, Christians will call you “a demon in disguise.”

So, these days, it’s very difficult for me to identify as a “Christian.” When asked if I am a Christian, I sometimes respond, “You know, Jesus was not a Christian. I am just trying to be whatever he was.”

Our gospel lesson this morning may offer people like me, and perhaps like you, some help as the risen Christ says to his disciples: “I do not call you servants any longer. . . I call you friends.”

“A friend of Jesus.” I like that.  These days, I’m liking it better than being a “Christian.” Especially when I read that being a friend of Jesus comes with a stipulation.

“You are my friends,” says Jesus, “if you do what I command you.” And this is my commandment, “that you love one another as I have loved you.”

Author Garrett Bucks, who visited Lynchburg this week, points out that religion is either “about being right” or “it is about love.” I believe what this world needs today are fewer “Christians” who are concerned about who’s right and who’s wrong and more friends of Jesus who follow his commandment to love one another.

Perhaps this is what the world has always needed, for throughout history, there has always been a large number of Christians who, although they claimed to be on the side of Jesus, were actually standing on the opposite side of Jesus and probably believed those who are trying to love like Jesus are “demons in disguise.”

During the Medieval period, Christians, in the name of Jesus, fought in the Crusades against the Muslims. In the name of Jesus, Christians supported the genocide of Native Americans and the slavery of Africans, which literally led to a Civil War. In the name of Jesus, Christians supported the Jewish Holocaust, Jim Crow laws, and still today support racist policies, laws that subjugate the rights of women, and legislation hurt the poor and LGBTQ people.

However, the good news is that there have always been friends of Jesus who have stood with Jesus by faithfully following his command to love one another, proving that the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

So, how do we know if we are standing with Jesus? How do we know we are friends of Jesus?

Well, whenever we are taking a stand against something or for something, we simply need to ask ourselves, am I standing on this side because of love? Do I have these beliefs because I am trying to love like Jesus, selflessly and sacrificially?  Am I in this fight because I love my neighbors as myself?

Or am fighting for something else? Is it pride? Is it power and privilege? If it is not about love for another, is about being superior to another, more holy, more right? If it is not about love, is it about fear? If it is not selfless and sacrificial, is it selfish? Is it greed?

You really want to know if you are a friend of Jesus?

Well, what do we say when we meet a friend of a friend? “Any friend of his or hers is a friend of mine!”

And who were Jesus’ friends? The gospel writers call him a friend of tax collectors and sinners. Because Jesus was a friend to anyone left out or left behind. That means that as friends of Jesus, we are committed to being a friend to the least of these. We cannot claim to be a friend of Jesus and not be a friend to the poor, to the sick, to the imprisoned, to the underprivileged, and to all those oppressed by the sick religion of the privileged.

And the good news is: Being a friend of Jesus means something else. It means knowing something of what the Risen Christ knows, as the Risen Christ says to his new friends, “I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.”

This is especially good news for those of us living in these upside-down days when Christians call pastors who quote Jesus “demons in disguise.” No matter how dark things seem in our world today, as we were reminded by a prophet named Martin Luther King, Jr., “that is when we can see the stars.”

This Jesus who taught love, revealed love, embodied love, and was crucified and buried for love, is still standing, still teaching, still revealing, and miraculously, still embodying love in the flesh before his friends. This one who was arrested, tried and executed by a deadly mix of sick religion and greedy politics for being a friend to the least, is still living, still free, still loving, still speaking, still inspiring love, because love never ends. In the words of the Apostle Paul, “love [truly] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.”

No matter how dark the world may seem, no matter how loud the voices of antisemitism, Islamophobia, Christian Nationalism and hate are, no matter how widespread the religious hypocrisy, no matter how upside down this world gets, the forces of fear and darkness, even the violent forces of death will never have the final word. Friends of Jesus can keep loving, keep befriending the least, keep standing for justice, keep speaking truth to power, keep the light of God’s love for this world burning, confident that this light will never be extinguished and will one day fully and finally change the world. Amen.

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

Go and Get You Some Glory

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

Class 2019

John 13:31-35 NRSV

During a recent concert here in Van Buren, in between songs, the musician interacted with the audience with some back and forth exchange. It must have been obvious to the musician that one group was there to celebrate an occasion. Perhaps a birthday or an anniversary. So he asked: “What are you guys here celebrating tonight?”

A young man sitting at the table shouted out, “It’s my graduation!”

The musician responded: “Oh, your graduation? Well, congratulations! Where are you graduating from?”

“UFAS!” shouted the graduate.

“That is wonderful! Now, it is time for you to go and get you some moneeeeeeeeey!”

Of course, everyone laughed, clapped and cheered! I even leaned over to my son Carson and said, “That’s right! You go get you some money, Carson!”

For that’s what parents want of our children do we not? We want them to get a good education so they will not only be self-sufficient, but they will be successful. We want them to be able to afford nice things and live in nice places.

But almost as soon as I said it— “Go out and get you some money”—before the cheers and the clapping had time to die down, I knew there was something wrong with those words. And then, I could almost hear the words of Jesus:

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal (Matthew 6:19-20).

No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth (Matthew 6:24).

Yeah, I am certain there’s now way Jesus would have shouted out: “Now, go out and get you some money!” And am even pretty certain he wouldn’t have laughed, clapped or cheered.

Now, I realize that there are some preachers you see on TV who would disagree with me here. Sitting on their opulent gold sofas, I have heard them point to scripture like our gospel lesson this morning to justify their prosperous and luxurious life-style.

“Look,” they say, “Jesus himself said: ‘Now the Son of Man has been glorified…’ That means Jesus came to earth and was ‘glorified.’ And if Jesus was glorified, then that means that God want us to be glorified too!”

Then they point to their mansions and their private jets and their gold watches and rings of every finger as signs of God’s glory. And I have seen them look into the camera and say something like: “And God wants you to go out get you some glory! And if you send me some of your money, you will get it!”

Although the word “glory” might suggest worth and value, I believe Jesus’ had something very different in mind.

The Greek word “glory” is doxaa, whichliterally means “reputation.” It is the root word of our word “doxology.” When used as a verb, it means to enhance one’s reputation. To glorify is to praise, honor or recognize someone to the extent that they have a reputation for greatness. It means to assign honor, prestige and fame to someone. So EVERYONEwill know who they are.

And while the world may glorify the rich and the famous, Jesus was talking about another kind of fame and glory. This reputation has nothing to do with having a lot of money and material possessions.

Jesus says, “Here’s the reputation, here’s the glory, I want you to have:

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. (Listen to this) By this EVERYONEwill know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

In other words Jesus says: “I want you to be famous! I want you to be recognized. I want you to be renowned the world over. I want you to be glorified. I want EVERYONE to know that you have the reputation of being my disciples. And you do this by simply loving others as I have loved you.

St. John of the Cross wisely wrote:

In the twilight of life, God will not judge us on our earthly possessions and human successes, but on how well we have loved.

My hope for the class of 2019, and I believe God’s desire for you, is that you will get up and go out and get you some glory. I want you to get up and go out and love others in such a way, the very same way Jesus loved others, so that EVERYONE will know that you are his disciples.

Because today, what this world needs now more than anything else is for everyone to know the transforming love of Jesus. What this world needs now is change. What this nation needs now is change. And it is a change that you have the power to bring. For our reputation as a nation has certainly been diminished in the world these days. Our glory days seem to be over.

My Disciples of Christ friend and colleague, the Rev. Dr. William Barber, has made this challenge to the class of 2019:

I’m here to tell you, if you graduate and get up and get together and get involved, love can take on hate, mercy can take on meanness, justice can take on injustice, truth can defeat lies. You cannot merely get a job and a car and quarantine your life. Your graduation is more than just getting another slice of materialism. You must stand against injustice and be part of reviving the heart of this nation.

There are too many people in this world who are living their lives without any glory, without any reputation at all. Well, for the very few who know them, they have the reputation of keeping to themselves, minding their own business, being self-centered or just too afraid to step out and step up. Some would like to see the world change, but they are sitting safely back, waiting for someone else to go get the glory.

Yes, Class of 2019, what this world needs is more people who want to some glory!

We need more people who are willing to step up and step out, to put themselves out there, to put their reputation on the line, to run for office, to start a non-profit, to speak truth to power, to serve selflessly, to love this world as Jesus loved this world. We need more people to be the change, be the solution, and be the church this nation needs.

I am now going to address something that may be a very sensitive subject, especially here, in this place, during this hour. It is the subject of church.

It is no secret that the majority of high school and college graduates today and church do not mix.

According to a recent Barna Research poll, 59% of Millennials (that’s 22-35 year olds) who were raised in church have since dropped out of church completely. Only 2 in 10 Americans under 30 believe that attending a church is worthwhile. And here’s what might be the most frightening statistic: 35% of Millennials believe the church today does more harm in the world than it does good.

Nearly all church growth experts agree that this means that church as we know it today, in the form that it is in today, will slowly cease to exist in 50 years.

I had an opportunity to have lunch with Nadine Burton our Regional Minister this past Wednesday. When I asked her how she has been doing, she responded: “On most days I feel like a real estate agent more than I feel like I am a minister.” I was afraid to ask, but asked anyway, “Because so many churches are closing and selling their property?” She said: “yes.”

Now, here’s the sensitive part that I was warning you about. I do not blame the Millennials for the church’s decline. And I don’t blame Millennials for dropping out of church. For I believe the church today has a long way to go to prove that it is a worthwhile venture. Much has to change in the church today if it is going to look like the the authentic embodiment of Christ in this world. The church today has undergo a drastic and dramatic transformation to love like, give like, and live like Jesus.

I think we need to face the hard and painful truth that the church, in its current form, does not have a very good reputation in the world. The church today has lost much it’s glory. And I believe that is the reason the heart of this nation is so very sick today.

But here’s the good news. Although our glory days have greatly diminished, I do not believe our glory days are over.

So, here’s what I am here to say to the class of 2019 on behalf of the church: “I want you to go and get you some glorreeeeeeee!” I want you to get up, stand up and speak up to transform the church. If the church is not what you think the church should be, I want you to do the work to reshape it. I want you to teach us how to love others as Jesus in loved others in such a radical way, EVERYONE will know we are disciples of Christ.

Now, I am aware that not all churches will listen to you. Not all pastors want to hear from you. I understand that. That is why you are dropping out. That is part of the reason you believe attending church is a waste of your time. And that is why our regional minister can continue to expect to be in the real estate business.

But I believe that this church, the First Christian Church in Fort Smith, wants to hear from you. I know this pastor wants to listen to you. I want to work with you to help bring glory back to the church, to help restore the church’s reputation in the world.

And I believe with all my heart that your generation will one day have the reputation, the glory, of saving the church, and thus, quite possibly, saving this nation.

He Is Not Here

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Short ArticlesLeave a comment

christian-pro-choice

As I was drinking coffee on Easter Sunday morning, I took the common risk of picking up my phone to scroll through my Facebook newsfeed. One of the first posts that I read was from a friend making the assertion that there was no way one could be a Christian if one did not hold a certain position on the reproductive rights of women.* Of course, this person is not the only friend of mine who has made such statements on social media. I have read countless posts from others asserting that one cannot be a Christian unless one believes “this” or “that.”

Then, I went to church and heard the good news:

“But the angel said to the women: ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here!’ (Matthew 28:5-6 NRSV).

The good news is: “He is not here!”

We cannot keep Jesus sealed in a tomb or behind four walls. We cannot keep Jesus in any little box we construct. We cannot keep Jesus confined to our limited and shallow understanding of the world and this mystery we call “life.”

“He is not here.” He cannot be retained in any enclosed tomb we devise. He cannot be locked up in any particular doctrine, creed or confession we write. He cannot be limited to any political ideology nor constrained to any religious belief.

Yes, perhaps the best news of all is: “He is not here.”

His love is bigger than we can imagine, and his grace is beyond anything we can create. His peace is beyond all understanding. With Jesus, there are no limits, no restrictions, no boundaries. The stone has been rolled away, and “he is not here.”

Then, where is Jesus? From what Matthew has taught us, I believe we know where.

Jesus is with the stranger, the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked and the imprisoned. He is always with the least of these among us.

Jesus is with those who have been ostracized from community. He is with the outsider, the left out and the shut out. He is especially with those the self-righteous have labeled “not Christian” because of certain political or religious beliefs.

The good news is, that no matter what you may read on Facebook, Jesus is always with all of us, “to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20 NRSV).

 

* For my thoughts on women’s reproductive rights read: Why This Christian Pastor Is Pro-Choice: It’s Personal.

For Easter to Happen, Somebody Needed to Pick Up and Carry a Cross

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

oklahoma city bombing firefighter baby

Luke 24:1-12 NRSV

It is Easter Sunday! Resurrection morning has dawned. New life is being born! Something wonderful has been lost, but something magnificent is being gained.

However, on this Sunday of Sundays, I believe it is important for us to realize that before we can experience new life, before we can celebrate resurrection, before we can sing alleluias, before love can win, somebody needed to pick up and carry a cross.

And the sad thing is that there are very few of Jesus’ disciples who understand this. They do not understand it today, and they did not understand it 2,000 years ago.

Although Jesus continually taught that to gain our lives, we must be willing to lose our lives, that Easter could not happen without some self-denial, that resurrection could not come without some self-expenditure, that new life could not be born without some sacrifice, that love could not be won without some suffering, that the the light of Sunday morning could not  dawn without the darkness of Good Friday, when the time came for the disciples to follow Jesus all the way to the foot of the cross, most all of them very selfishly fled to save their lives.

One would betray Jesus. Another would deny that he even knew Jesus. Nearly all would desert him. In spite of Jesus’ continual call to pick up a cross and follow him, most of the disciples never got it.

However, there were a few disciples who did get it. There were a few who were willing to carry a cross. There were a few who chose to live selflessly and to love sacrificially. There were a few who faithfully followed Jesus all the way to Golgotha.

Although the intrinsic sexism of this world’s history has caused many in the church to overlook these faithful disciples, the good news is that all four Gospel writers did not.

In Luke 8 we read these words: Afterward [Jesus] journeyed from one town and village to another, preaching and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. Accompanying him were the Twelve and some women…Mary, called Magdalene… Joanna…Susanna, and many others…” These women helped support Jesus and the twelve “out of their own means.”

And on Good Friday, when none of the male disciples could be found, Mark 15 reads: “There were also some women looking on…among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, Joses, and Salome.

In Matthew 27 we read: “Among them [gathered at the foot of the cross] was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.

In John 19:25 we read where all the male disciples fled: “But standing by the cross of Jesus were His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.

There are many problems with Christianity today. However, I believe one of the biggest problems with our faith today, especially here in North America, is that we have too few Mary Magdalenes.

There are too few people who understand that authentic faith, true discipleship, always involves a cross. It always involves answering a call, taking a risk, denying oneself, going against the status quo, pushing the boundaries, stepping way outside one’s comfort zone.

A problem with the church today is there are too many Christians who believe they can sing “alleluias” on Easter Sunday without going through some suffering on Good Friday, who believe they can experience some new life without death to self, who believe they can somehow rise up from the waters of baptism without getting their hair wet, who believe they can serve Jesus without getting their hands dirty.

What this world desperately needs needs right now, and what the church needs more than anything today, are more disciples like Mary Magdalene. For Mary Magdalene understood that when Jesus called people to be his disciples, Jesus was always clear that there would be a cross involved.

I think this is the reason that Mary Magdalene is remembered today by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. This is the reason she is mentioned by name by the gospel writers more than any other apostle. And this is the reason that today, on this Easter Sunday morning, Christians all over the world will hear her name mentioned as they gather to worship.

Some will hear her name as Mark 15 is read: “Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses were looking on to see where Jesus was laid.”

Some will hear her name as Matthew 28 is read: “Now after the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to look at the grave.”

Some will hear it as Mark 16 is read: “When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, so that they might come and anoint Him.”

And others will hear it as John 20 is read: “Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came early to the tomb, while it was still dark, and saw the stone already taken away from the tomb.”

Just as Mary Magdalene had given what she had to support Jesus’ life, Mary was still doing all she could for Jesus in death.

And because she always selflessly pouring herself out, because she kept giving, kept sacrificing, kept risking, serving, bending, expending, anointing, because she was the most faithful of all of the disciples, because she not only sacrificially followed Jesus all the way to the cross, but courageously followed him all the way to the grave, because she followed him to the very end, she was the first person on earth to see the risen Lord.

Mark 16:9 reads: “Now after He had risen early on the first day of the week, He first appeared to Mary Magdalene…”

And in John 20:18 we read where it was Mary Magdalene who first proclaimed the good news of Easter, speaking five simple words that changed the world forever: “Mary Magdalene came, announcing to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord.’”  Not only was she the first person to see the Lord, she was the first person to proclaim the world-changing, earth-shaking, life-saving good news of Easter to the world!

Mary Magdalene was the very first to preach the glorious good news of resurrection on Easter Sunday, because she stayed with Jesus until the very last in his suffering and death of Good Friday. Easter happened for Mary because she had answered a call to follow Jesus, and she followed Jesus all the way.

Observing Good Friday this year was a surreal experience for many Americans, as it fell on April 19, the day of the terrorist bombing in Oklahoma City.

The story of one survivor, Terri Talley, exemplifies the suffering experienced by our nation, as well as how new life was raised out of the ashes through those who were willing to pick up and carry a cross.

Employed by the Federal Employee’s Credit Union on the third floor of the Murrah Federal Building, that morning was extremely busy for Terri. She had just returned to work after spending several days away, and a stack of paperwork waited for her.

Catching up on work, Terri took a moment that morning to chat with her good friend and coworker Sonja Sanders. “For her, it was a big day. She had just been promoted into management,” states Terri, who is certain she was the last person to have spoken with her friend.

What seemed like just moments afterward, everything changed. At 9:02 am, thousands of pounds of explosives, assembled in the back of a Ryder moving truck parked in front of her office building, exploded.

Terri recounts: “I fell from the third floor to somewhere around the basement level. It was really really fast. It was so fast that I didn’t really know what had happened. The suction pulled me down so quickly.”

Surrounded by noise Terri says, “When I came to the first time, I thought: ‘This is a really bad dream. I will just go to sleep and when I wake up everything will be okay.’ But when I came to [again], everything wasn’t okay. I thought that I must have been in a really bad wreck, and I must be [pinned in the wreckage], because I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even scream for help. I would try, but I was really squished. And I thought to myself: ‘I hope someone finds me.’”

Terri was found by a firefighter who almost overlooked her. [Like being sealed in a tomb] she was completely encased in concrete and granite. Terri says: “There was just a little hole and a little piece of me was showing. He touched me and … started screaming: ‘Hey! I have a live one here, and I need some help!'”

After much hard work, Terri was freed and rushed to a nearby hospital, where her injuries were identified: temporary blindness, a concussion, temporary amnesia, a cracked first vertebra in her neck, a broken right ankle, skin damage on her foot, and multiple abrasions. During her seven days in the hospital, and for weeks following, a sense of shock permeated her life.

However, today, she has this powerful message for the world:

I always tell [even] the littlest of kids: ‘Don’t think that there is nothing you can do, because kids would color pictures and send me notes. Those made me feel like people were really thinking about me. You can always do something, no matter what age you are.’[i]

This illustrates that to experience Easter Sunday, we have to have a Good Friday.

Before new life could be experienced, before resurrection could be celebrated, before “alleluias” could be sung, before love could be won, somebody needed to pick up and carry a cross.

-First Responders needed to run toward an explosion.
-Firefighters needed to go into a burning building.
-Doctors and nurses needed to give all that they had to give.
-Friends and family and church members needed to pray.
-And little children needed to pick up some crayons and color a picture.

To make Easter happen for someone–today, right here, right now–we can all do something, be something, risk something, sacrifice something, give something, create something.

We can all pick up and carry a cross.

We can feed someone who is hungry.

Visit someone who is lonely.

Love someone who is hurting.

Include someone who has been left out.

We can mentor someone who lives in a foster home.

Care for someone who is sick.

Forgive someone who has made mistakes.

Believe someone who has been abused.

We can share grace with someone who faces discrimination.

Stand up for someone victimized by injustice.

Speak out for someone devalued by oppression.

We can stay close by and anoint someone who is dying.

Be a friend to someone who is grieving.

With the spirit of Mary Magdalene, let’s keep the faith, and let’s keep the faith going, keep it moving forward, all the way to the foot of the cross, through the betrayals, through the fear, through the denials, through the suffering, through the shame, all the way to the grave, even to a tomb that has been sealed by granite or concrete.

Let us keep doing whatever we can, with whatever we have, wherever we are, to love one another until the entire world is able to sing:

“Alleluia! Alleluia! I have seen the Lord!”

 

[i]https://www.nps.gov/okci/learn/historyculture/stories.htm

Holy Friendship

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn EasterLeave a comment

Friendship

John 15:9-17 NRSV

To prepare us for a new church year, today, I invite us to be a part of a four-part sermon series entitled: Renewing Our Mission. To be the church that God is calling us to be, the church that God needs us to be, we will be challenged to renew our mission in at least four areas: friendship, partnership, stewardship and discipleship. Today, I want us to think about friendship.

Friendship. It’s a word that we use casually, superficially. These days we call nearly every acquaintance or contact a friend. I have Facebook friends, friends who follow my blog or my Twitter, many I have never met and never will. I have ministry-colleague friends. I have teacher friends, professor friends. I have friends from high school, college and seminary. I have running friends, gym friends, and I have Ainsley’s Angels friends all over the country. I have a dry cleaning friend, a friend who cuts my hair, and just this past week, I met a new friend who repairs my automobiles. And, of course, I have some wonderful church friends.

But we all know that friendship can be experienced on another level. Genuine, long lasting friendships can be so much more profound than our more casual relationships.

A week ago, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend some time with two old friends. Steve is a pastor outside of Knoxville, Tennessee, and Cary is a pastor in Longview, Texas. We met fifteen years ago in the Doctor of Ministry Program at Gardner-Webb University. We used to get together every year; however, this was the first time that we have gotten together in maybe eight years.

We decided to meet somewhere in the middle, so we chose Memphis. We spent one day at the National Civil Rights Museum and one day on the golf course. And spent both days, eating a lot of barbeque.

Although Steve has had a career serving with mostly Baptist churches, he now serves with an inter-denominational church. I said Cary is a pastor in Longview, Texas; however, he is only a pastor for another week. His passion for serving the poor and the marginalized is prompting him to leave the pastorate to co-direct a ministry for the homeless in Longview, similar to Hope Campus here in Fort Smith. Steve and Cary are both the fathers of two children.

So, the three of us share much in common (our jobs, our religious convictions, family, golf and barbeque); however, this is not the reason we are such good friends.

One of my favorite authors and preachers, Frederick Buechner perfectly describes our friendship:

Basically, your friends are not your friends for any particular reason. They are your friends for no particular reason. The job you do, the family you have, the way you vote, the major achievements and blunders of your life, your religious convictions or lack of them, are all somehow set off to one side when you get together. If you are old friends, you know all those things about each other and a lot more besides, but they are beside the point. Even if you talk about them, they are beside the point. Stripped, humanly speaking, to the bare essentials, you yourselves are the point. The usual distinctions of older-younger, richer-poorer, smarter-dumber, male-female even, cease to matter. You meet with a clean slate every time, and you meet on equal terms. Anything may come of it or nothing may. That doesn’t matter either. Only the meeting matters.

Only being together matters.

And although we hadn’t been together in almost a decade, although the hair on our heads were much more gray and thin, it was somehow like no time had elapsed at all. Yes, we did our best catch up one another, but we really didn’t have to. That is friendship. And the joy that is experienced in such a friendship is priceless.

Another one of my favorite pastors, Henri Nouwen, said this of friendship:

Friendship is one of the greatest gifts a human being can receive. It is a bond beyond common goals, common interests, or common histories. It is a bond stronger than sexual union can create, deeper than a shared fate can solidify, and even more intimate than the bonds of marriage or community. Friendship is being with the other in joy and sorrow, even when we cannot increase the joy or decrease the sorrow. It is a unity of souls that gives nobility and sincerity to love. Friendship makes all of life shine brightly.

This makes it all the more astonishingly wonderful when we read scripture like:

“The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend” (Exodus 33:11). The prophet Isaiah says that God referred to Abraham saying: “Abraham, my friend” (Isaiah 41:8).

When we consider what friendship truly means, when we consider the innate grace of friendship, the unconditional love of friendship and the immeasurable joy that is experienced through friendship, “the friendship of God is a staggering thought.”

The friendship of God—that the creator of all that is wants to be with the creatures just as they are, and that everything else is “beside the point” except for that—This privilege, this divine gift, this holy friendship is such a staggering thought, we say to ourselves, “Yeah, but I’m no Abraham. I am no Moses.”

The good news is that that too is beside the point.

Through our scripture lesson this morning, Jesus says to his disciples and to everyone of us: “I do not call you servants any longer. . . I have called you friends.”

Notice that their relationship has changed. It has grown to another level.

The disciples are much more than acquaintances, contacts or colleagues of Jesus. They are no longer students, no longer servants of Jesus.

Jesus says: You are my friends. I love you. I want nothing more for us to be together. I want to commune with you. I want to abide with you. I want to live with you, in you and through you. Your denials, your betrayals, your lack of understanding, your fears, your faults: none of that matters. It is all beside the point. The only point is you. I want to be with you, and I want nothing more than you to be with me.

And listen, for this is how you can be with me. This is how we can be together, finally and fully. This is how you can experience a joy that will fill you, complete you, satisfy you.

You are with me when you love one another. You are with me when you love one another as I have loved you. You are with me when you look past the flaws and failures of others. You are with me when meet people with a clean slate every time, always meeting them on equal terms. You are with me when all of the usual distinctions, older-younger, richer-poorer, smarter-dumber, male-female even, cease to matter.

You become close to me when we gather at the table, when we share the loaf and drink the cup, but we are together, when you are willing to break your body, pour yourself out, and give yourself away for others.

In Matthew, Jesus says, “Do you want to be with me? Then give food to the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome a stranger, give clothing to someone in need, take care of the sick and visit the imprisoned. When you are a friend to the least of these, you are a friend of mine. When we love others as I love others, you are my friend.

If we are to be the church that God is calling us to be, if our joy is ever to be complete, I believe the first thing we must do is renew our mission to be a friend of Jesus. We need to make the commitment not to study Jesus, admire Jesus, hit “a Like button” for Jesus, but to be a friend of Jesus.

We are going to take a step toward making this commitment tonight at our cabinet meeting, as we are going to talk about our church officially adopting a non-discrimination policy. I think such an official position is needed, but, doesn’t it seem like, for the church, for the body of Christ in this world, for the Body of the Christ who never excluded anyone, a non-discrimination should be the default? You would think that a vote would only be needed if a church wanted to start discriminating. But sadly, we know that’s not the case.

We know there are too many people today who call themselves Christians who are behaving more like acquaintances of Jesus, students of Jesus, Twitter followers of Jesus, even servants of Jesus, but not friends of Jesus.

You can call ourselves Christian, but if you discriminate against or denigrate anyone because of race or religion, ability or class, gender or sexual identity, ethnicity or any other social identifier, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can worship God, but if you mistreat, take advantage of, or neglect the poor, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can say your prayers, even make a National Day of Prayer, but if you do nothing to protect and care for our most vulnerable citizens: our children, the elderly, the differently-abled; then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can sing God’s praises, but if you are silent in the face of immorality, dishonesty and injustice, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can hear God’s truth proclaimed on Sunday morning, but if you fall for lies the rest of the time, because you’re afraid of standing for that truth, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can give our tithes, but if you do not support fair living wages, equitable healthcare, access to a quality education and affordable housing, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

You can eat the bread and drink the cup and remember a life poured out, but if you are never willing to sacrifice for anyone or anything, then you might not be a friend of Jesus.

A common phrase that we say to our friends is: “a friend of yours is a friend of mine.” But this takes on a very challenging meaning when we remember that Jesus was widely known and ridiculed for being of who? “A friend of tax collectors and sinners.”

This means we can attend church every Sunday, but if we never go out and eat and drink with those outside of the church, if we fear getting a reputation for hanging out with the wrong type of people, then we might not be a friend of Jesus.

As I speak these words, I am reminded of my response to my son who is visiting with us this week when he asked to go downtown last night to eat supper. I said, “Downtown? This weekend? With a motorcycle rally going on?” “Heck no.”

But being a friend of Jesus is risky. It is difficult, and it is costly. Being a friend of Jesus takes us places that we would rather not go and puts us into contact people we would rather avoid. However, all who have experienced the complete joy of friendship know that to be friends with God is more than well worth it.

Invitation to Communion

We believe it is the Risen Christ who invites us to eat and drink from this table. And we believe that he invites us, because he has chosen every person in this room to be his friend. Our faith or our lack of faith—it’s not the point. Our understanding or our ignorance—it’s not the point. Our deeds or our misdeeds—it’s not the point.  The Lord invites us because we are the point. Take and eat the bread, drink from the cup. Accept this friendship. All are welcome.