15 May 2010 “Liberated by the Gate” John 10:1-10

 My difficulty with our scripture from John this morning began with this notion of Jesus being like a gate. I understand about the gate as metaphor.

 Yet, as I was reading this week the many possible ways to compare Jesus to a gate, I became confused. I just could not keep up with the examples, or perhaps I didn’t really try. And I missed their point. I know there is so much more about Jesus than his being reduced to a gate.  So, I set it aside to give the scripture a chance to find its voice.

  In the meantime, I thought about gates. Gates, I must confess, are really interesting. Especially in Austin where, true enough, not everything is weird, but we do find different kinds of gates and some are really pretty strange, adorned like an art car with dolls and rocks and spiked things. I particularly love the solid wood gate that would hang between two massive rock walls. The yard they hide from our view just may be a hint of what paradise would look like. Or, like one of my neighbors, where to hide the old rusty cars and piles of junk.

 Clearly, gates speak their own unique language, they tell us different things. An open gate means, come in. A closed gate means, stay out. A closed gate also means, if you ignore the warning and open it anyway, at least close it behind you. Or, open it anyway and be ready to run when you see the porch dogs coming after you!

 Some gates are plain and functional, they open and close easily. Other gates are decorative and just for looks so please, don’t open them, they may fall apart and you may never get them closed again!

 My personal favorite is the ‘gap’ gate. You know, it’s the one that is made of strands of barbed wire like the rest of the barbed wire fence that you can let down and it always gets tangled into itself and you can never get it closed again as you pull at the top to try and get that loop of wire over it. Now, to compare these examples of gates to Jesus, even as a metaphor, seems wrong on so many levels.

 First, Jesus is not plain or simple and he is not decorative. But then Jesus does refer to himself in our gospel story as a functional and necessary gate. He does describe the reason for the gate and himself clearly. He says he is our way to safety from ‘this world’ living. He is like the gate or way that speaks in its openness; “You can come in to my safe place,” he says, “in here, in my pasture, with strong fences all around.  Anywhere I am it is safe in the long run.” With this truth before us, Jesus becomes the gate way who separates life from death.

   Now I’ve caught myself speaking of Jesus as a gate, finding the voice of the scripture with Jesus as this metaphor. But I don’t think this reduces Jesus in any way. On the contrary Jesus’ explanation of himself in this way may broaden and enrich our understanding of him.

 We should feel better now, it is clearly obvious when we look closer at this John passage, Jesus is indeed more than a gate, he may be seen as a threshold, a passageway, marking and calling us to a new life.

  But, when he calls, we must listen and then act. When we listen we have the safe pasture, the safe place we need. Our task in life is to faithfully listen to the Christ who guards our going out and our coming in and follow him where he calls.

 This truth about our going out and our coming in from the world of terror to the world of safety is clearly about how we are being saved.  Saved from our world of sin and desperation by first accepting Jesus’ openness and his invitation to be with him in this life. Being with Jesus, where he is, is how we are saved. Now I’m beginning to love this gate metaphor.

 Yet life, life, can be so unyielding. We certainly do venture out on our own, away from the safety of Jesus’ presence outside his gate, his place of rest. We do venture out into the world, moving on to new jobs, new towns and to a different rhythm for our life, a life without boundaries, and it is so natural to be drawn away from Jesus. Often we are so busy or distracted we don’t even notice it. We are so hanging out in a harsh world without any protection; we don’t realize it until it’s too late.

 But Jesus is not distracted; he sees us and marks the boundary for us between a place

to venture out, to graze unprotected, and a place of protected rest.

  Our faith filled life is like this. We gather with Jesus there inside his gate, we gather there at the end of the day, we rest in the peace and safety of his place free from the wild outside world, we rise in the morning having rested well, free from our fears, because the good shepherd, Jesus our messiah, watches over us. And in the morning we praise him, “good day good and faithful shepherd”, we pray, as we move on to green pastures and still waters.

 This way of life is necessary and good, because the places to graze and grow are actually outside Jesus’ protective gate, out here in our world. This movement into the world of our time and place is also necessary as a part of our faithful life of service as Jesus marks for us what we are to do, who we are to become, his apostles.

 That movement, that going out into the world and then coming in, coming home, to Jesus is where the saving life is. Here’s the thing though, it is a matter of life and death that we know when it is time to go out and when it is time to come back in. it is a matter of life and death to know when we have ventured too deeply into ourselves and closed our gate to Jesus.

  Being honest with ourselves about ourselves will tell us when we are ready and safely equipped to venture out and when we are not. Knowing we have Jesus as our guardian, trusting in him, staying faithful to him, obeying him, we can venture out. But, without the truth of Jesus Christ as our Savior, we dare not tread outside. Behind the gate we create for ourselves we are desperately alone. Alone, we will suffer and die.

 It becomes clear to us that we are ready to follow Jesus’ call when we have successfully learned the way of the good shepherd, when we learn Jesus’ truth and when we hear him call, when we open our hearts and minds to his voice alone and cannot live without him.

 Only then may we venture out, for then we will be obeying him. It is clear; we are becoming his disciple when we allow his love for us to become who we are, no longer able to follow just ourselves and we desire more than anything else to obey him. Step into my life, come and follow me, he says.

 This call to follow Jesus is our personal call to salvation and safety and everlasting life. It is our call to hear and to follow his command to “Go out into the world,” Jesus will tell us. “You are ready. The temptations of life to false safety and security and short lived joy and satisfaction will not consume your life. For now you are ready.”

  To live otherwise is to live a life that may never hear Jesus again, one in which we may never hear him when he calls us home. To not hear Jesus’ call is to live a deadly life. Equally dangerous is to hear his call but ignore it or turn against it, to miss being inside, where sheep gather to be with their shepherd. It is to turn our backs on that place where disciples gather to be with their Christ, our Messiah, Jesus. Living in any other place is folly.

 Truthfully, seeing Jesus and his relationship with us as this threshold where he calls us in or out may not be so comforting when we are honest with ourselves.

 We have at different times in our lives been taught that for those of us who believe, Jesus is like a turnstile. And a turnstile only requires a token or a pass or some ‘thing’ we have or some ‘thing’ we have done that says we can come in, we can go through, we can pass from outside to inside, we have the right thing now or we can pass the right test. And if we pass the right test we can go from mindlessly wandering around to the place of sure destination. We can go home, where it is to be safe, forever.

 But if Jesus is different than a place to be tested then everything changes.

 The way home is no longer some test we pass, or some material possession, or some place of importance. The way home is no longer open to us when we say the right passwords.

 No, the way through the threshold of Jesus Christ sets the will of God at a defining place for our lives. It is the will of God that teaches us we are to live our lives as faith filled disciples of Jesus Christ and it is the will of God that Jesus Christ be our threshold, our way to that new life. Not for our gain, but for God’s.

 Our passing through this place that Jesus has marked out for us is critical to our future with God. The right place is like a line drawn in the sand, it is the place where the will of God tells us what we are to do next in our lives!

 It is not our job to decide when we are to be on one side of the line or the other. It is Jesus’. And in case we miss his point, it is not our job to say who else can cross over to be saved with Christ, that too is Jesus’. It is our job to listen for his call, to listen for his voice, telling us when it is time to move. It is then our job to faithfully follow.

 A well known preacher named David Buttrick has a wonderful phrase he uses about the church and I believe it applies to each of us. He thinks of the church as the being–saved community. Not saved yet, but we are working on it!

  If we are being-saved (rather than simply “saved”) then perhaps, as the author Anna Florence says, we are more active in our faith life than static. We move in and out, back and forth with our ministries. We move according to the rhythms of our call. When it is time to worship, we gather at the sheepfold. When it is time to graze and seek and do the work of being a sheep, we spread out over the hills.

 But we must always listen for the voice that calls us to the next task. We must live with the possibility that being-lost is a risk each of us takes.  Anna Florence reminds us, Jesus cannot protect us from wandering away, but he can call us back before it is too late.

 And when he does, we may well be reminded of his call from verse 10 in this morning’s gospel, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”   

   This is no metaphor. Jesus Christ is the way, the way to the truth and the light, the way to eternal salvation. And that way is through his freely given love, and through our freely given love right back to him and then on and on to one another.

 He came, dear ones, that we may have life, and have it abundantly.

 In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen                           051511.gpc

Additional sources:

“Lectionary Homiletics,” Volume XVIII, Number 3, 2008, pgs. 15-17.

“Pulpit Resource,” Volume 37, No. 2, 2008, pgs. 9-12.

08 May 2011 “The Journeys” Luke 24:13-35

 We are traveling people. Living where we do, we spend a fair amount of time on the road. If you doubt me, look at the mileage on any car or truck in our parking lot. Unless it’s new, you will find clear evidence, we are traveling people.

 Janet and I love to take a day trip to eat at our son Kevin’s restaurant in Rosenberg. It’s only 3 hours - one way. Chuck, our other son is in Boerne. That’s only about 2 hours. Janet’s sister, Sue, is in Brenham, another 2 hours, all one way. I’ve heard many of you tell similar day trip stories. Two hours here, three hours there. The hours add up, the mileage adds up, and the fuel costs, they add up too.

This morning, in Luke’s gospel, we have the road story to end all road stories. The road is to Emmaus, an easy day trip of roughly seven miles from Jerusalem, it is a road we too will take sooner or later. The Emmaus story is for us Christians the story of the walk of our life, the walk where we just may encounter Jesus.

 The two men in Luke’s gospel were on that road from Jerusalem when the experience of a lifetime began. They were innocently on their way, talking about the things they had heard about Jesus, how he had been raised from the grave.  One day, there he was hanging on the cross, then three days later people they know said he had actually appeared to them alive.

 Unknown to our two men, Jesus himself came near to them and walked with them, but, according to Luke, their eyes were kept from recognizing him.  They were on that road, traveling, and Jesus was there too. They were telling their story, unloading what was on their heart. Yet, they were blind to Jesus’ presence, walking right beside them, right there along that same way they were taking. Their way, as it turned out, was also Jesus’ way.

 Of course, this is the way Jesus falls in with all of us. This journey called life is just the place where Jesus wants to be. He wants to be in our hearts, our minds, our souls, traveling along with us. Jesus, we discover, is a traveling man too. He never shies away from the road, from the difficulties encountered there along the way our life follows, in the midst of its straight and narrow and its twists and turns. Jesus goes with us as we unload what’s on our minds and what’s in our heart.  He comes near and goes with us along our way listening as only one who loves us listens.  And just as honestly, so often, like those same two on the way to Emmaus, we don’t see him either.

 Yet, from the gospel we know there is hope for us. Though these two men did not recognize Jesus at first, they ultimately did. It happened when Jesus was with them at table. They did not recognize him until he breaks bread with them, then God’s most amazing grace, God’s most thankful miracle, give us this day our daily bread, their eyes were no longer keeping them from recognizing him, they could see and they knew exactly who he was. Jesus, it is our Jesus who is breaking this bread with us! He was here with us all along. Oh, how blind we can be!

  It may not be so comforting putting ourselves on that road with the disciples. We don’t need to be reminded of our blindness, our sin, our seeing the world the way we do with our eyes not recognizing Jesus. We’ve been there.

 Knowing Jesus’ traveling habits, I wonder how often we’ve missed him. I wonder how often we’ve felt separated from him and felt desperate for his company and he’s been there with us all along. Making the ride in to work with us or stopping at the store with us. Getting home to the chores and jobs that steal our time and attention from him, longing for that day trip to reconnect and finding ourselves even more alone. Missing the bread Jesus has broken and offered to us daily, praying our longings for him and he’s been with us all along.

How would we have known it was Jesus? That’s a fair question isn’t it?

 In Luke’s gospel, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him with bread in his hand being offered to them, and thankfully, to us. That is how they knew it was Jesus, but we don’t see our world like that, do we? We seldom see nutrition and sustenance in the dull and mundane. We’re actually left feeling starved time and time again.

But, we do seek after him, don’t we? The scriptures are clear, Jesus is with us always, we’re just not so sure where sometimes. We do know if we will pray and have our attention and our eyes focused on him we open ourselves to at least feel his presence. We’ve all felt the miracle of God’s presence in our lives or what we thought at the time was God’s presence.

 It’s just that we don’t wake up in the morning, make it through the first cup of coffee, turn to right our list of things to do and script “See Jesus Today”. Even when we pray for his help and his guidance we finish our prayer and the day takes over and we seldom give Jesus another thought. Where then do we expect Jesus to be while we are so busy with our day? Will he be as others have said, in a sermon, a theology lesson or a book? How about a painting, a piece of music, a drift down our favorite river or a sunset out where there are no city lights to interfere? Or is it when we are held by someone we love?  How do we know it is Jesus? 

 If we accept the possibility that Jesus is with us always, walking along the road we might call our life, here on the road to our Emmaus, here in Austin or where ever we have come from, where ever we are going, we give ourselves a chance to see with opened eyes. Our faith can do that.

 It is rightly said, becoming aware of Jesus’ presence changes according to whom we are and where we are. When we are struggling with life, Jesus may bethe friend who walks hand in hand with us and prays with us. When we are walking through the valley of the shadow of death, Jesus may be the woman at the bank who helps us through the red tape of wills, insurance or safe deposit boxes. When we are anxious about a new home, a new job, Jesus may be the one who walks with us to show us where our new store is, where our new work space is. Dear ones, we do not walk alone!

 Life will naturally unfold for us in ways unexpected and we will find ourselves thinking, what has happened to me. Like those men on their road, we try and understand about life and our hopes and dreams, especially when something goes wrong. We dissect and re-hash and are in disbelief. How have things become so out of control? What did I do?

 These are the times we have a long walk and a long talk with ourselves. These are the times Jesus will have things to say to us. The times Jesus feels what is deep in our hearts and knows what we do not know about ourselves or what we won’t admit to ourselves.

 These are the times Jesus shows up in our lives as a friend, a parent, a relative, a sibling, a co-worker, a teacher, a pastor or even a stranger. We will know in our hearts it is Jesus who is with us. It is Jesus speaking through the other, living through the one we least expect, loving through the one loving us back. With Jesus, we never walk alone!

 Jesus shows up to be with us in these simple yet powerfully important people, but it is a gesture at this table: bread, broken and offered to us, that is how our eyes are opened to see Jesus in our lives! This bread is the miracle of God’s grace in our lives! This table sacrament fills us for each moment of our lives. Give us this day our daily bread, we pray. Jesus freely gives it.

 The road to Emmaus is the road we will walk, sooner or later. We will walk that way more than once. When we aren’t walking it ourselves, we fall in with someone else who is taking their turn. Look around us this morning. See who is here and who is not. We know, without thinking twice, who has had to walk the road of despair, yesterday or today, and we know for some it will be a day trip and for others it will take longer. We know too who needs us to fall in with them so they will not walk alone. Because we love one another, we don’t want anyone to walk alone. So we fall in with one another; you and me, and Jesus.

 Some of you may remember seeing the movie Schlinder’s List. It is a powerful and extremely difficult movie about the Holocaust. It is a movie about Oskar Schindler, who was a wartime profiteer, yet for reasons even he apparently didn’t understand Schindler became obsessed with the idea of saving as many Jews as he could by commandeering them to work in one of his factories and he ended up saving some eleven hundred of them.

 The movie is filmed almost entirely in black and white like a documentary or an old newsreel, but every once in a while, usually in some crowd scene of children playing or people running or being herded into freight cars, you see, flickering like a candle flame in the seething grayness, one single touch of color in the form of a little girl dressed in red. It might have been better to never have noticed her. We first see her hiding herself, and then again, here, than there, until finally we see her for the last time.

  Frederick Buechner tells us he believes “that although the two disciples did not recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus, Jesus recognized them, that he saw them as if they were the only two people in the world. He believes Jesus also sees each of us like that. In this dark world where you and I see so little because of our unrecognizing eyes, Jesus, whose eye is always on the sparrow, sees each one of us as the child in red. And because Jesus sees us, not even in the darkness of death are we lost to him or lost to each other. Through people obvious or not, Jesus offers us, the way he did at Emmaus, the bread of life, he offers us a new hope, a new vision of light that not even the dark world can overcome.”

 As Buechner says, hope “is the word that on Easter Sunday is sounded forth on silver trumpets. And when Easter is past and the silver trumpets have faded”, and we have sung Joy to the World, hope “is the word that flickers among us like a red dress in a grey world.”

 This is how we know it is Jesus. Our eyes are opened to the hope he brings, our hearts are filled with his love, our lives are filled with his grace.

 He lives in us so we may be the one who walks the road to Emmaus with our sister or brother.  He lives in you and me so others will see Jesus as we become the face of Christ for them, so that they can recognize Christ for themselves, there beside them.

 When will our eyes be opened? Jesus breaking the bread: that is what did it. Jesus breaking the bread: the ultimate sign of love given, Jesus’ body broken for ours. Breaking the daily bread, feeding our fractured souls: now we see clearly.  He is risen, He is risen indeed!

 In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Additional sources:

     Buecher, Frederick, “The Secret in the Dark”, pgs. 256-257.

050811.gpc

01 May 2011 “Seeing is Believing” John 20:19-31

I invite you to join with me and sing the first verse of “Joy to the World.” We can sing it without the organ or piano, I’m sure we can.

I really haven’t lost my mind, at least not in an obvious way. While it’s true we just sang a Christmas hymn and while it also true we’ve just finished Easter, shouldn’t we sing Joy to the World? Jesus has risen from the grave and shouldn’t we continue our Easter celebration, shouldn’t there continue to be joy in our world? Surely the kids or grandkids aren’t completely out of Easter candy are they? I would imagine their parents are ready for them to come down off the walls. So, perhaps some folks are ready for Easter to be finished more than others.

Yet, Easter brings the hope that stays with us, the hope we have prayed for, the hope that once again Jesus will save us. And he has, with Easter we became resurrection people. But in some ways, the resurrection has been spoken of so often we’ve become immune to the serious theological and practical implications its truth has for our lives.

We are, by nature, curious people. It is not long after we begin to talk that we start to question everything. That desire to know stays with us all our lives. Topics and interests come and go, but by and large we are curious folks who want to know first hand what our world is about. Knowing about resurrection, on the other hand, may have slipped away from our curiosity.

In today’s Gospel story, Thomas was being faithful to his human nature, he was faithful to his personal desire to know the truth about his life, his world, and ultimately, the experiences he was having as a follower of Jesus. Given the recent turn of events, Thomas was not about to stop being Thomas.

Jesus had died, of that he was certain. Now, his friends were telling him, Jesus was no longer dead but was alive and had actually appeared to them and had actually spoken to them. It is not that Thomas disbelieved them, Thomas simply wanted to know for himself, first hand, if these wild accusations were true or not.

When I taught at Blinn College it was always a struggle to help my students understand about life and what was indeed true and real about what goes on in our lives and what might be suspect. Often, I found, we confuse our own view of what we think is true for what everyone else actually knows to be otherwise. Very often, our personal view is just that, our personal view. And just as often, that personal view is not what anyone else would agree to be true. Finally realizing this difference is a humbling experience.

Thomas shows us the right way to understand about life, by asking questions, “Where is your proof?” he wants to know. “Show me”, he says.
Being true to himself, this is exactly what Thomas asked when the other disciples told him they had seen Jesus alive, that information just did not compute with Thomas. He had seen them nail Jesus to the cross. He had seen them pierce his side with a sharp lance. He would have to see the evidence for himself that Jesus was risen from the grave. Otherwise, he was skeptical and in many ways, so are we.

At some point in our lives we may have asked for more proof about God. At some point in our lives we may have realized that just because people we know, people we respect, or even people we love believe certain things about Jesus, they may be wrong. Their faith claims are just that, theirs and they may not be sufficient proof for ours.

So we do what Thomas did, we ask questions, we strike out on our own, we study, we read, we pray, we engage in discussion, we expose ourselves to new and different ideas. Slowly, we begin to define limits for ourselves. We discover what we absolutely do not accept as the truth, and with the same certainty we discover bits of possibilities, truths we do accept in our belief system.

In sort of a routine way we discover one such truth, then another, and before we realize it, a miracle occurs and a faith develops that we hold to be absolute and foundational and solid as a rock with no compromise or wiggle room. These solid truths become strongly held faith and belief certainties that define our Christian way of living.

When it was evening on that day, the disciples were huddled in the upper room – afraid of the religious authorities, afraid of the religious folk who resist the message of the Gospel and its light – preferring instead to hide in the old ways of holy habit.

We Christians may be like this in a sense – it is easier to hide in our old ways, our comfortable clothing of holy habit. In a way, this story may actually be a picture of some churches. We’ve heard the good news of the resurrection, yet we prefer to huddle in safety, where outsiders cannot reach us.

Yet Jesus will not let us huddle safely from the world. When he first appeared to Mary she did not recognize him, so he called her name. Mary. When we first do not recognize him the church, speaking for Christ, calls our name for Jesus.

Like Mary and the other disciples and everyone for whom Jesus died we cannot avoid the relationship Jesus desires to have with us. He has done too much for us to take him lightly. He has come back into the life of the living. He returned from the grave to be with his disciples again and he has returned from the grave to be with us, each of us.

Why would Jesus do this? We aren’t like Mary. Or, are we? In Jesus’ mind we are. In Jesus’ heart we are not different from those he appeared to after his death, after his resurrection. Like them, Jesus loves us so much he comes to find us, to call our name and to send us out into the world. We too have been breathed upon, we too received the Holy Spirit at our baptism, we too have therefore become disciples of Jesus Christ.

Thomas was not there when Jesus came, neither were we. He doesn’t believe until he sees the marks, neither may we – not because we lack faith, we are curious by nature remember. It’s just that our skepticism has kept us safe in the past from making foolish decisions.

Thomas was like us, he wasn’t so different from the others, he wants to see the same thing they saw, he wants to see the same things we want to see, “show me the marks” he says. “Show me the marks,” we may say.
In the same room with the same group, in church, Jesus comes to Thomas and shows him the marks. Then, like John who had entered the tomb and believed, Thomas believes, he says, “My Lord and my God”.

This story does not end with Thomas, it takes on life here in our church and it goes with us every where. We too proclaim to Jesus, “My Lord. My God”! This is clear from Jesus’ blessing on each of us who, though we have not seen, yet we believe. It is from this belief that Jesus embraces us and raises us to be his church.

Our society has many who doubting likeThomas and they want evidence before they believe. They cannot see the marks of the body of Jesus, but they can see the marks on the body of Christ, namely us, God’s church.

Sometime what they see, well, it isn’t so Christian. Society and non-believers and those from non-Christian faiths are quick to point this out. We see you church people! We see what you are doing! Sadly, the marks of today’s Christians do not always convince the many like Thomas in our world who want evidence before they believe.

Mahatma Gandhi said, “I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. You Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

Voltaire, the 18th century skeptic said, “If Christians want us to believe in a Redeemer, let them act redeemed.”

Unless I see the marks, I will not believe.

In the history of Christianity there are marks that would help those who doubt like Thomas to believe. The marks we have to show them are many. They include the stories we tell of our Christian witness. There are many we can tell, stories of people like John Calvin or John Knox or others responsible for the Presbyterian tradition finding its way to America.
Voltaire might say, yes, these are heroes; every movement has its hero’s, what about ordinary people?

We need look no further than this church to find ordinary people who are heroes in the faith. We need look no further than the marks left by the real life stories of people in our own church. Founding congregations, founding ministers, chartering families, pastors and families from the past, and even each of you in this place this Sunday. We, in our lives of faith, create the marks those who doubt long to see. Once they see how we are, then they will believe.

People come into this church on a regular basis, they come to our campus often. We are a busy place. When they come, we show them a great deal, and what we show is good. Before they can believe, they want to see what it is that marks us as the body of Christ, they want to see what marks us as Christians who are like Christ, they want to see that we not only believe in a redeemer but that we act redeemed.

People come into this church on a regular basis and they call our name. They tell us, “Unless I see his mark on you, I will not believe!” They come to worship, we greet them during the passing of the peace, during fellowship times before and after worship, we invite them to our table to take communion with us, we invite them to break bread with us in fellowship at our congregational luncheons, we let them see Jesus’ mark on us when we open God’s church to them to give them a place of comfort and love for their school, for their thespian group, for their place to worship, to pray, to study scripture, or to grieve the loss of a loved one.

These are a few of our marks, there are others, you know about them, you know about the wonderful ministry network we have for taking care of one another, for keeping up with one another, for visiting with one another, for loving one another. You know about our Christian marks.

Can we feel good enough about these marks that we will bring others, like us or not, to this church, to see our marks, so they may believe? I believe we can. I believe we can because those who ask to be shown the marks of Jesus on us want to see the marks in a church, in a familiar place, this church. And the greatest truth we can show them would be the boldly lived claim, “See how they love one another”. “See how they love one another.”
Is it any wonder that we sing - Joy to the World!


In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.

“Seeing is Believing” John 20:1-18

24 April 2011 “Seeing is Believing” John 20:1-18

Being truthful this morning of all mornings I come looking for answers. Perhaps you can help. How exactly do you hold an Easter egg? I know, many of you have the same question. Do we hold it delicately or firmly? Do we hold our Easter egg delicately so we don’t break it or firmly so we don’t drop it? It’s been a year since last Easter and I always forget.

I bring this up because many of you have already held an Easter egg this morning and you could advise us on this matter. But, perhaps latter, for today is a day to set aside such deep and complex problems.

For today we are in high celebration of a different, sort! Today is a day like no other. Amazing grace has filled the morning dawn and today of all days God’s amazing grace has taken hold of us. Being truthful this morning we come looking for that grace. Have you felt it yet today? Have we felt God’s grace? Have we seen God’s grace filling the space around us? It is here with us this morning in our sanctuary.

Look around, who do you see? There, right there in that pew in front of you, God’s grace. There in that pew behind you, God’s grace. There in that person to your right or to your left, God’s grace. God’s grace has filled their hearts as it has yours and mine, and we are radiant this morning! We are all clothed in the newness of life that has come to us in our risen Lord Jesus. We are God’s grace this morning. He is risen! He is risen indeed!

Even the weather is spectacular, it is a glorious Easter Sunday and the world is glowing. The world is outshining itself and just now we have heard this amazing and true story about Jesus. Our Jesus, taken from us so quickly, now has come back. He is risen! He is risen indeed!

In Jesus’ death and resurrection, we have been cleansed of our sin; we are now able to be reborn, resurrected to new life. We have a fresh start where sin may no longer be our sole cross to bear, a fresh start where love may have another chance. Love coming to us from Christ’s dying for us. Love extending from us filling us with grace and joy and blessings and an unbounded desire in our heart to give it all away to the most surprised people. Those whom we least expect, surprising even ourselves.

These past 40 days of Lent was a time for clearing and cleaning and digging out the rocks and thorns and weeds in our lives. These were the days set aside to help us be honest with ourselves and, with God’s help, get rid of the unhealthy life habits we have been holding on to.

With God’s wisdom, space has been cleared that will allow us to tend to a new life, a new garden where we have been planted with God’s love, where we may realize new growth, new beauty and joy.

Space has been made where we may cast our new love upon the world, one person at a time. Space has been made where God’s kingdom will come, where resurrection will bring God’ grace, God’s hope to our life and to all we gather to God.

Through so much of our life God reminds us of God’s grace and Easter Sunday is one of those special times. The kids are excited about the day and the adults are too. There is that egg question after all and that question about God’s grace, and we know today is the day for answers.

In the midst of this excitement, we are drawn to church. Christmas and Easter have this effect on us. They draw us to the church to find our answers and hear once again the stories of God’s truth that ground us IN the world while not grounding us TO the world.

So, the Easter story: Mary came to the tomb early that Sunday morning. The stone covering the tomb had been rolled away. Without looking in, and in shock, she ran to Peter and the others to tell them what she had seen.

For Mary, still in her grief because Jesus had died on the cross, this was too much. She laments, “They have taken the Lord,” his body, they have taken his body from the grave. And I don’t know where they have taken him.”

Peter ran to the tomb to see for sure. Unlike Mary, he entered the tomb searching frantically for Jesus and saw only piles of rags. He and John saw that Jesus was gone and they too were in shock. They have taken the Lord, what are we to do now?

Mary was back now at the tomb, she stood weeping, and she bent over to look into that space where Jesus had been and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. The angels questioned her tears and her sadness, “Woman, why are you weeping?

Don’t you know, she replies, they have taken the Lord, he is not here, he is gone, forever, he is gone from us and we will never see him again. Why don’t you understand? The angels understood, they understood what Mary did not.

She turned around and was face to face with Jesus, but she did not recognize him. She thought he was a gardener. He asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

Mary was so filled with sadness and hopelessness, sadness that Jesus had been crucified, sadness that she has come to the tomb to prepare his body for burial only to find he is no longer there. She was filled with her fear that Jesus, the one whom she loved, her savior, had abandoned her.

Still believing Jesus to be the gardener, Mary said to him, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” She asked him if he knew where they had taken her Lord. Jesus knew. He said to her, Mary.

Jesus began his new life, his new ministry as the resurrected Christ by calling the first disciple of the new chapter in human history by her name, Mary. Mary recognized his voice and then she understood, this is Jesus, he is not missing after all, Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Mary has suddenly felt renewed, resurrected from sadness and fear and hopelessness and her lost sense of self. Jesus said to her, “Go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God”. With uncontrolled joy Mary ran and told them all, “I have seen the Lord.” Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

It is fair to wonder this morning what this all means. We understand the story. Jesus, once dead to us, dead so that our sins would be forgiven, is now alive and risen, risen so we will be risen too. We get this. We’ve read it in scripture, we’ve learned it in Sunday School class, and we’ve heard it preached many, many times before. We may even understand what we think this all means. After all, we are intelligent faith filled Christians.

Then, perhaps understand is too strong a word. Saying each of us is to be part of a life of resurrection from the old life of sin to the new life of grace is one thing, knowing how that life would look is another.

Do we have the faith that it takes to honestly believe that the resurrection life, begun in Jesus back on that first Easter Sunday, has become our new life? This is 2011 after all. Do we have the faith to believe we are to live a new resurrection life? Dearest ones, we must.

We must believe our life is a resurrection life if we ever expect to know who God is and what God has in store for us. Believing in the truth of the resurrection and believing, through our baptism, we are included in this new life with Christ takes a leap of faith. But from that leap we see that Jesus Christ has walked from that tomb right into our lives, and if we haven’t heard it, he calls us by our name.

Jesus calls your name and mine this morning no less than he called those early disciples. His call is to come and follow him, to leave the old life behind. He expects this morning that we will finally give him our answer.

That is our real Easter surprise. Jesus wants to hear from each of us this morning. Not about how to hold an egg, but have we felt God’s grace tugging on our hearts and will we accept his call. Dearest ones, we must.

Easter Sunday is the day the Lord has made for you and for me. Easter Sunday is God’s answer to our lives of struggle and pain, confusion and indecision. God’s voice is clear, we are called to accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior for we are to be resurrected from our life of separation by sin, separation from our Holy Lord God. In Jesus’ resurrection we are lifted up, saved, to live in God’s kingdom where we become our authentic selves. Disciples of Jesus Christ.

Initiated by God, Jesus came to Mary, and Jesus comes to us. The results of that encounter are dramatic. It changes our lives. We are sought out and we encounter the risen Lord who calls us to follow him giving us a glimpse of who we are meant to be, of who we can become. For we, dear brothers and sisters, are meant to be like Christ. We are created to be like Christ.

Open any egg you may find, peel away any shiny chocolate covered bunny, find the jelly beans, our real treasure this day is Jesus Christ.
He is risen. He is risen indeed. And he is not alone.

"Fetching Donkeys" Mark 11:1-11

17 April 2011 Fetching Donkeys Mark 11:1-11

We never raised donkeys on the farm at Greenvine. I don’t know why, we raised just about everything else. Maybe it was because of my friend Johnnie. Johnnie raised horses and when we ran on Saturday mornings it was one complaint after another about those horses; they ate too much, they cost too much, they were too much trouble. Then one kicked him in the face. He was lucky it didn’t kill him. I know horses and donkey’s aren’t exactly the same, but Johnnies stories probably had a lot to do with our not having donkeys.

I do have a favorite book about a donkey though. It is called “Platero and I” by Juan Ramon Jimenez. Listen to how the man who loves Platero describes him ( pg.3).

Today’s scripture doesn’t tell us much about the donkey. I say donkey because the Greek will allow a translation of both “the foal of a donkey” and “the foal of a horse.” For me, donkey it is.

We do not know how this particular donkey was chosen over the others. Jesus apparently knew him and the roll he would play and Jesus likely loved him. We do know he was in the village, we know he had never been ridden; he was tied up there near a door, outside in the street.

When this donkey was brought to Jesus his disciples threw their cloaks on him and Jesus sat on him. It appears the donkey never objected to any of this. Though never ridden, he had never met someone like Jesus before. When he did, apparently all went well. All went well with this little donkey who was the chosen one. He was the one chosen from all the rest by Jesus to bear him to Jerusalem.

As the story of that journey is told we can easily imagine those who spread their cloaks on the road, those who spread leafy branches, those who went ahead and those who followed. They might have seen the procession that day and said, as was said of Platero, “Look, He is like steel”.

I wonder, would they have said this about the little donkey or about Jesus?
Clearly, Mark’s gospel reading this morning is of Jesus’ final journey, one that would take him from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem and to the cross. As Jesus and his apostles were approaching Jerusalem Jesus sends two of his disciples ahead into town. Not to scout things out, not to find lodging, not to set up a meeting between Jesus and those who were out to take his life. No, they are sent on a mission to fetch a donkey.

No other place in scripture has Jesus sending his disciples on what appears to be such a minor assignment. I can only imagine their disappointment. They were with Jesus after all, he had become famous among the people, and they were recognized as his disciples, an important position. It would not be surprising for the people to look at them with the same awe and respect they had for Jesus. They were his crew after all, his advance men, part of his inner-circle, very important people!

They knew Jerusalem was to be a special stop for Jesus. I imagine they were looking forward to a far grander and more noble assignment on this day than that of fetching a donkey. To add to their dismay, they may have felt this particular assignment eliminated all hope of their being known as the greatest disciple. All of the disciples had been jockeying for advantage, angling for glory, arguing about being the greatest. They had asked Jesus, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”
Yet here were these two, not at all in glory, but mucking around a stable, probably feeling like horse thieves, all they while trying to wrestle an untamed and no doubt balky animal toward the olive grove. They might have thought, “For this we left our families and our fishing nets!”

In the gospel of John, Jesus doesn’t send anyone looking for an un-ridden donkey. Jesus enters Jerusalem on foot. The donkey enters the story only after the crowd gets caught up in the excitement of the moment. And in John, Jesus finds the donkey, not his disciples.

This sort of makes Marks telling seem rather trivial doesn’t it? Finding the donkey seems more like a designated chore – sort of like making sure the bathrooms don’t run out of hand soap, or watering the new flower bed or one of a multitude of routine and mundane details of church work that are necessary but may not help us feel like we are being involved in the really important work.

The presiding officer at the ordination of an Elder, a Deacon or a Minister of Word and Sacrament will ask the candidate, “Will you in your own life seek to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, love your neighbors and work for the reconciliation of the world?...Will you seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination and love?” These words stay with us our entire ordained lives.

At first such language may give us the impression that the nature of any calling to follow God, is a brave, exciting, fast paced, rock star like existence. Calling us into the fore front of life’s experience, working for the reconciliation of the world, where we are the key to helping people regain their lost dignity or something grand like that, lifting folks through their pain filled life experiences and bringing them cheerfully to the promised land, to a life of prosperity where only the best reign with God. Really important work for really important people.

While this rock star picture sounds promising, we all know that’s not how being a disciple really works. Glamour and glitz are not part of our calling. Never once is it mentioned that serving people with energy, imagination and love often boils down to ordinary stuff like ordering bulletin covers, changing light bulbs in the restroom, visiting people in nursing homes who aren’t quite sure who you are, running around town looking for lilies when the florist looses our order, being called at the last minute to set-up fellowship hall for a luncheon and everyone else is out of town or not answering the phone because they have caller ID and they just know you are going to ask them to do something at the last minute. Again!

Or even as two of Jesus’ disciples found out, by finding a suitable donkey at the last minute.

This gospel of Mark sets a tone from the very beginning that is different from the other gospels. Matthew begins with a genealogy, Luke begins with an historical account of the development of the mission of the church as the instrument of God’s purpose in history. And John takes us back to the beginning, the creation, and theological reflection.

Marks’ gospel begins instead with a call to “prepare the way of the Lord.” The beauty of Mark’s message is found in the way we are to go about preparing that way. Not, surprisingly, as grand, powerful, and all knowing defenders of the faith, which is perhaps a blessing in disguise.

No, we are to prepare the way of the Lord just as we are, just as we live, just as we go to work, to school, to church, on vacation, to the store, even as we pay our taxes. It is that time of the year again isn’t it!

We are called this morning to prepare the way of the Lord as we go about living our ordinary lives, staying humble, being obedient, to the point of embracing our routine daily tasks as exactly what God expects of us as we become defenders of the faith.

We see this in the gospel message as a whole, Jesus never asks the disciples to join in the typical power structures of their day in order to have a representative voice in the running of things. No, that is not Jesus’ style. Instead the apostles do ordinary things, they get a boat ready for Jesus, they find out how much food is on hand for the multitude, they find a room and prepare the table for the Last Supper and, of course, they chase down a donkey for the Lord and his entry into Jerusalem.

This call to discipleship ministry is our call to full Christian participation in the gritty details of everyday life; humbly, obediently, with love and genuine caring for God and for one another in our hearts. It is a sign of our mature faith when we embrace these gritty details in the midst of the ordinary and are thankful this is who God has really called us to be. For we are far from being rock stars.

While these words may speak the truth about where we are in our personal walk with the Lord, we know words alone will not save us. Joel Marcus, a Markan scholar, believes Mark understands, “the preparation of the Lord’s way in a rather prosaic manner as the arrangements people make for the ministry of Jesus.”

Perhaps we haven’t understood the Christian life this way, this notion that we are to make “arrangements” in our lives for the ministry of Jesus. It reminds us that we are called to give up control of our lives, to turn our lives over to God and then, the most radical of things, to listen for God to tell us what “arrangements” we are to make to prepare the Lord’s way.

On the one hand, each of us is called by God to help prepare the way for the good news of Jesus’ ministry. God knows us and the roll we will play and God loves us. We are called to be apostles no less than the original apostles, going out to teach the world who Jesus is and to make disciples, to introduce people to the truth that just as the rising sun chases away the night, so God has scattered the power of death in the rising of Jesus Christ! That is what we are to do, live the truth.

But let us be cautious.

Clearly, it is Jesus’ ministry that the world depends upon, not ours, our role is to prepare the way. We are the ones who fetch the donkeys!

Yet our task in crucial, as ones who fetch the donkeys for Jesus, as ones who are called to live through our routine life, the often exhausting and terrifying and mundane life, these very details of our service to the Lord are how we help prepare the way for the Lord. Our faithful service is gathered into the larger truth of Jesus’ redemptive work in the world. Our faithful service is to mirror Jesus’ even as we make arrangements to walk with him to the cross.

Jesus tells his apostles, “Go into the city to a certain man.” First we make arrangements for a donkey, now for a man where we will have our last supper. Then we make arrangements to go with Jesus to that place called Gethsemane where Jesus will be arrested. Then the arrangements take us with Jesus to Pilate who after flogging Jesus, handed him over to be crucified there at Golgotha. Where Jesus cried out with a loud voice and breathed his last. Yet, not finished was he and not finished are we.

We are to make arrangements to prepare the way of the Lord. What our preparation of the Lords way looks like is often a matter of speaking a quiet word in a committee meeting, spending time with someone who is incoherent and coming apart at the seams, giving a ride to church, emptying a bedpan for someone we love or scratching a few halting words on a note to someone suffering, in pain, confused, lost, or failing to heal.

In Marks’ world, “preparing the way of the Lord’ usually looks like standing hip-deep in the mire of some stable trying to corral a donkey for Jesus. All the while shouting, “Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Additional sources:
“Christian Century”, April 4, 2006, pg. 18.

10 April 11 Being Raised John 11:1-45

10 April 11 Being Raised John 11:1-45

It is not difficult to recognize these stories of death and resurrection as a foretelling of what is coming for Jesus, death then resurrection. We should not be surprised I expect, this being Lent and our anticipating Easter.

What we know from the eye witness reports of Lazarus’ illness and death is this. His sisters, Martha and Mary, send word to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” We know Jesus’ response to Martha and Mary will surprise them. Jesus knows Lazarus’ illness is not leading to the sort of death expected, but to an intervention by Jesus to restore Lazarus’ life, and to glorify God. So he waits.

Then knowing that Lazarus has died, Jesus goes to the place where he is. Even knowing that Lazarus had been in the tomb four days Jesus says, “take away the stone”. Then he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus come out!” and Lazarus came out, alive.

Martha and Mary felt sure that with Jesus present when their brother was ill, he would be healed and would certainly not die. They base their plea on the Lord’s love for their brother and their love for him. Jesus, as we will discover, is looking beyond death. Jesus says death will not be the final outcome of this illness. When the dust settles we will all see the glory of God in action, but Lazarus must die first.

There are deep emotions at play in this story. Martha meets Jesus when he finally comes to Bethany where they live. Her soul is overcome by grief over the death of a brother whom she loved. But, she is also a disciple of Jesus, so her heart and soul are filled with reverence for her Lord. Hers is a heart stirred to its very depths, and swaying between grief and hope.

Jesus tells Martha even though Lazarus has died he will rise again. He assures her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Then he asked Martha if she believed this. She did not waver as she says, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

Martha is right, Jesus is the resurrection and the life in person. Because he lives, we too shall live. With him present, resurrection and life is assured. He is always the conqueror of death.

At the tomb he assures us once again, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” If we would only believe, if we would have even the faintest faith, by that faith alone, these great truths become ours. As a result of who Jesus is, the resurrection and the life, the life of one who believes always conquers death.

Then his proof, Jesus says, “Lazarus, come out.” And Lazarus does. You see, the dead respond to Jesus’ call. The glory of God, the revelation of his wonderful attributes of power and love, grace and forgiveness were there for all to see in Lazarus emergence alive from the tomb.

Having shown God’s glory in Lazarus’ death and resurrection Jesus has set the table for his own glorification in his approaching death and resurrection. The stage is also set for us and for our calling to glorify God as we live our life as a disciple and he raises us too to glorify God.

We know what this life requires, faith, deep love and trust, allowing our worldly life to die in order for our glorified life to begin. It’s just a lot to ask, to believe and have faith and be sure about this born again promise.

In Lazarus’ story is the assurance we need. We are Martha and Mary and our loved ones have died. We are Lazarus sure to die some day. We love Jesus and we know he loves us. We do have a believer’s faith. We are sure about ourselves. This morning’s gospel assures us about Jesus, about what Jesus will do for us. For in saving us from ourselves, Jesus glorifies not just himself or us for that matter, he also glorifies God.

He glorifies God in his life and, miracle of all miracles; even in our lives we will glorify God. When we join our lives with God’s, we glorify God. We dear ones are called by Jesus to join our lives to God’s. God’s stream of life flows naturally down and around and through all life. Our life is naturally drawn to flow into God’s. It is to this natural state our lives are drawn if we will live honestly to who we are and who we are to be. This is the only life that wants to be alive in us that matters.

The Quaker’s have a saying, “Let your life speak.” “Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you. Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you represent.”

Before we can tell our life what we want to do with it, we must listen to our life telling us who we are. That is if we believe.

If we believe and have faith this is the truth that will collect us and direct us to God’s truth, to God’s grace, known through the action of Jesus Christ and known through our own lives if we live this authentic truth. Cultivating that life truth becomes our authentic way to live and show the world God’s grace.

That cultivation of life begins for us here in church this morning. It is as if there is a purpose and an intention that God has woven into church that we must listen to. God has a purpose and an intention for our life that we might not know of if we don’t listen. Truth and values are being revealed in God’s holy Word each Sunday and the voice of our life will speak in these stories being told even from this pulpit.

Lazarus’ story isn’t the only one telling us about our life. In 20:7-12, we read.

“A young man named Eutychus, who as sitting in the window, began to sink off into a deep sleep while Paul talked still longer. Overcome by sleep, he fell to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead.”

I know church can be a place where the preacher talks longer and longer. And I know how easy it is to be overcome by sleep. I too have sat in the pews on Sunday morning. Church, for some, is a favorite place for sleeping.

I recently read of a preacher who tells about the Sunday he had divided up parts of the sermon with the liturgist for effect and to give broader participation. Following the service the organist, who couldn’t see the pulpit from the organ said to the pastor, “I didn’t know that the liturgist was helping you out with the sermon so after you spoke and then I heard the liturgist speak I assumed that you had collapsed and died and that he had to take over the sermon.”

Church can become a place of slumber, a place where a death of sorts is expected. Sad – it ought to be a place of resurrection and awakening.

Eutycus’ story is a strange story; Paul arrives with Luke in Troas. On Sunday they join other Christians for worship. Sunday of course is the first day of the week when Jesus rose from the dead. Every Sunday is supposed to be Easter all over again.

Paul was preaching and he was on a roll and this young man, Eutychus is mentioned. This is where we come in to live the gospel if we are like a 16 year old who has trouble staying alive during a sermon. He falls asleep toppling three stories to his death. Scripture then tells us.

“But Paul went down and bending over him took him in his arms and said, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” Meanwhile, they had taken the boy away alive.”

In a mere two verses we are told that Paul has paused just long enough in his sermon to raise a young man from the dead and then church goes on as if nothing happened. First Lazarus, now Eutykus. Who, I wonder, is next?

Maybe Luke is saying that this is the way church is supposed to be. Somebody seated in the third pew from the back, once was dead, and is now alive. Somebody near the cross in the choir is awakened from a coma.

This is the point of today’s Gospel lesson in the raising of Lazarus. The resurrection of Jesus means not only that Jesus is loose and on the move among us, but it also means that we can get loose. We can be raised and be on the move.

Things like this do happen here on Sunday mornings. Visitors may not notice it but those of us who are regulars, well we know the possibilities. To be raised from our malaise, our dread, our life of turmoil and pain to then be on the move, on the move to a new way of living.

There are a number of us named Eutychus or Lazarus who on some particular Sunday stumbled into this place, sleepy and slow to move only to be shocked awake. We were just praying our prayers, or saying the words of a hymn not really singing, receiving the body and blood of Jesus Christ perhaps, hearing the blessing of peace from our pew mates, when we sat straight up in our pew, our eyes flew open, our hearts leapt within us, like we were raised from the dead.

Born again, to the life we were meant to live, a life we wouldn’t have had if we had not come in here on the first day of the week. And resurrection happened. Just like it did in Jesus’ life, just like it does in ours these first days of the week.

This is the true life that speaks in us. Saying, I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.

This is the life death and resurrection may bring. This is the life that is possible for us when we believe in the seemingly impossible. Jesus Christ died for us. Jesus Christ rose for us. Jesus Christ lives in each one of us.

That, dear friends, should startle each one of us to be wide awake. There will be no sleeping today, there will be no falling to our death today.

Jesus Christ is coming to us. Do you hear him now calling our name, “Lazarus, come out.”


In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Additional resources:
Christian Century, February 26, 2008, pg. 21.
Pulpit Resource, Volume 37, No. 1, Pgs. 41-44.

27 March 2011 “Jesus Is Where He Finds You” John 4:5-42

Jesus is clearly a man who knows his audience. In our gospel lesson last Sunday we read the story of Nicodemus. This Sunday we have the story of the unnamed Samaritan woman. Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman. They couldn’t have been more different, yet Jesus knows them both and adapts his responses to them accordingly.

Nicodemus, we learned, was a leader of the Jews. The woman, on the other hand, had no status in the Jewish world. Nicodemus came to Jesus by night. Jesus comes to the woman by day. Nicodemus wants something from Jesus. Jesus, on the other hand, wants something from the woman.
Nicodemus tries to use reason with Jesus and is confused in the process. The woman engages Jesus in what turns out to be a rich theological discussion and understands who he is and what he offers her.

Nicodemus doesn’t understand how Jesus’ teaching can be. The woman not only understands, she leaves her water jar and went back to the city to share the good news with the people. Nicodemus seems to drift off in the story doing nothing. The woman begins to share the good news with those who do not know it. She evangelizes to the people and they invite Jesus to stay with them and he does. Many more believed because of her action and his word, for they heard for themselves and they learned that Jesus is truly the Savior of the world.

There are in these stories striking similarities in our lives. As Jesus was one on one with Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman, Jesus is one on one with us. Whether we go to him or he comes to us, it doesn’t matter. Both happen.

Usually, like Nicodemus, we go to Jesus when we need something, speaking our prayers of petition. Just as likely, Jesus will listen instead to our hearts. That is the place where Jesus truly wants to engage us. It is with our hearts that Jesus fills us with his profoundest wisdom, his greatest strength, his unlimited love and his saving grace.

Less usually it seems Jesus is the one who initiates the contact. The scripture makes is clear, Jesus does seek us out. He tells us things about ourselves no one else knows. He teaches us things about himself we certainly don’t know. Jesus, we learn, wants something from us. Something we don’t know we have to offer. Something only God can want. In the process, our lives are changed forever.

I believe it is our nature to try and figure these things out. To try and figure God out as we try and figure our own lives out. Like Nicodemus, we use our best reasoning ability. We aren’t always so bashful with God. We will generate enough courage and try and reason out our situation, thoughts about our life and God’s and how they might have meaning together. We do have a history of success with our courage leading the way. Using our brains to know who we are and how we are to live our lives results in practical, productive and workable answers.

Yet we find ourselves filled with doubt in the middle of the night and we struggle with where to turn for help. We don’t really understand how Jesus’ teaching can be true. It lacks good reason. We see our lives in contrast to Jesus’ teachings and we are confused like Nicodemus. So we dig safe trenches in our lives to which we crawl for safety while we gather our wits about us for the next assault on our confusion about what’s important. In our illusions we drift off, away from Jesus, until the night becomes so dark we seek him in our despair.

Then we learn how Jesus is seeking us all along. Oh, this is such good news. The Samaritan woman engages Jesus in a discussion about God that has depth and insight and follows Jesus lead. Not her own. In this way, she not only begins to understand who Jesus is, she begins to understand about her life and the sole purpose for which she lives.

Consider for a moment that we are to write our name into the story, that we are the unnamed. In so many ways we see hope and possibility through her we may never otherwise find.

Notice how she engages Jesus in a critical dialogue seeking him, not relief for herself. Jesus says, “Give me a drink”. The Samaritan woman said, “How is it that you, a Jew, asks a drink of me, a sinner.” Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink’, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” She presses Jesus about this. “Sir, where do you get that living water?” And Jesus answered with greater detail and truth, “…those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty…it will become in you a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

For the first time in her life she believes there is a nourishing possibility for her like nothing that has come into her life before. She asks Jesus, “Sir, give me this water,” She opens her heart and soul to Jesus, in her new found faith she holds nothing back and reveals herself, her intellect and her heart, to what Jesus already knows about her. She offers her life to him. She begins to understand, Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ who will come and proclaim that those who worship him will have eternal life. She knows when the Messiah comes he will proclaim all things to us. Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.” Poor Nicodemus never made it to this level of understanding, belief, faith, or salvation.

But we can. We have come seeking earthly nourishment of body and soul and found life’s offerings may separate us from God. In our sinful nature we come to the well for water at a time of the day when others are not around so we will not have to be confronted by our sin, only to find Jesus waiting there for us. It is true, Jesus is waiting for us and when we show up he wants us to give him a drink of this life we think is so important, he will take it from us and give us in its place, a life that will become in us a spring of water gushing up to eternal life. The vessel we bring is our body and soul. Jesus will fill it for us.

Like our advocate, the Samaritan woman, we will leave our lives beside the well and go to the rest of the world proclaiming, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He is the Messiah. And many will believe because we have believed and lived our lives to teach his way.

In God’s amazing grace, in living as Jesus teaches us, in bringing others to Christ we accomplish what his disciples urged Jesus to do. When they returned to him they encouraged him to take some food. His response was, “I have food to eat that you do not know about…My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work…Doing God’s will brings about the harvest…and if we will but look around in our lives we will see the field is ripe for harvesting.” Many will believe in him because of our testimony.

We are the harvest crew that finds the people dying without Jesus.

The Rev. Arturo Malicara, a friend and hospital chaplain, reminded me often, people are indeed dying and they do not know Jesus, and each one of us who profess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior can help save them.

Ali Selem’s beautiful and understated 2005 film, “Sweet Land”, tells both the story of the power of love and the power of finding something wonderful that satisfies the deepest hungers and thirst of life. The film tells the story of a young German mail-order bride, Inge, promised to a struggling farmer, Olaf, arriving in Minnesota in the wake of World War One. The local minister and town judge both refuse to perform the marriage ceremony because, as they judged, of Inge’s socialist affiliations, her inability to speak English, and the loose morals and dissipated lifestyle of foreign women. Without rights or citizenship, with no family and no community – Inge stood alone, facing a hostile, unfriendly new world.

Though the marriage is forbidden, Olaf and Inge fall in love. Neighbors go to great lengths to make sure Inge knows she is not welcome, she does not belong, and that she is despised. Ignoring the disapproval of the townsfolk, Inge struggles to make a home and a life through hard work and devotion to Olaf. Conditions worsen, and they risk losing their farm. There is a deeply moving scene toward the end of the film where it appears the farm will be lost and Inge and Olaf are once again denied marriage. They stand outside the farmhouse with the local preacher. Olaf tells him that the farm is Inge’s home now, but the pastor shakes his head and says, “It can’t be. She doesn’t have the proper papers.” Her reply is that she has a home and citizenship and a marriage in her heart. The preacher says, “That’s not enough. It has to be real.” Inge than asks, “Do you have God in your heart?” The preacher stands mute for an unbearable time, than nods, smiles, and admits, “You’re right…my heart.”

It is by the faith and witness of a woman, an outsider, who reminds a community what is of true value, and creates a deep, abiding change in their lives. The townspeople repent, accepting Inge as one of their own, and stand with the young couple to save their farm.

We see in the character Inge the Samaritan woman by the well. An outsider who is found by Jesus and in the process, finds Jesus and a new life. Through her encounter with Jesus, and through our own, we find something of true and lasting worth – God’s spring of water overflowing with everlasting life.

That is if we have God in our heart.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Additional References:
Lectionary Homiletics, Volume XII, Number 2, Mar – Apr 2008, Pg. 28-35.
Pulpit Resources, Volume 36, No. 1, Jan – Mar 2008, Pg. 33-36.
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