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Sunday, May 3, 2015

Forgiveness: Bulldozers and Baltimore

Sermon 5.03.15
John 20:19-23
Real Life. Risen Life!

For these weeks since Easter we’ve been hearing the stories that are told in the gospels that witness to Jesus’ post-death existence.  Each scene we’ve heard includes Jesus appearing to his followers in completely unexpected ways – because, let’s face it, no one expects a once dead person to show up for a walk on the road, or hang out in gardens, or BBQ on the beach…but Jesus does all that and then some.

And each story is filled with seemingly small details that the gospel writers take great care in laying out for us – and one detail that has been catching my attention is all the running involved in the resurrection! After the people realize who Jesus is, alive and walking alongside them, they run like mad!

Two men walk the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus and Jesus appears teaching them for hours, entering a home and sharing a meal.  And when the disciples, who have unknowingly spent much of the day with their beloved teacher realize who is sitting at the table…they take off! Running to find the other disciples, running to tell them that Jesus is actually alive!

Just last week we heard Mary’s story – how she found the empty grave and went running to get others.  And then the first people she sees also go running.  They run to find people who will listen, they run to share their news – probably looking for validation and help as they wrestle with the experience of seeing Jesus, scars and all, living among them.   These could be flights of fear, they could be complete jubilation – it’s hard to know, but there is no denying that the vision of the risen Christ gets people moving.

And then, on the evening of the resurrection we get this story.  As light as fallen, the movement has ceased.  The yelling and story sharing turn to hushed, intense whispers and running stops and turns to bent postures for the followers of Jesus are terrified. Darkness has fallen on that Easter day and the disciples cower behind locked doors.
And still, the risen Christ appears.  Just has he appeared to Thomas who was doubting, just as he appeared to the disciples walking the road and grieving, just as he appeared to Mary who stared into the empty tomb confused and hurt and betrayed.  The risen One appears through the locked doors into a room of stillness and fear.
Peace be with you, he speaks.  All that running has paid off, their minds are sharp, they recognize Jesus immediately.  Still, no one moves. 
Jesus shows them his scars, proving his identity? Fulfilling the prophecy? Or perhaps, he is displaying his body with all the violence that has befallen him, all the injustice that cut into those scars and he speaks the response that can only come from new life…Peace be with you.
Still, no one moves.

Then Jesus breathes on them and gives them the power, breathes on them the authority, and speaks these empowering, yet very difficult words…
 Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them.  If you retain the sins of any they are retained.

The marching orders for the church of the risen Christ have been received.  Now, with our vantage point of over 2,000 years of hindsight and history – I think it is safe to say these words have been used and mangled throughout time.  Acknowledging the differing viewpoints of the entire body of Christ around the world – these words are down right scary! Followers of Christ are given the authority to forgive and retain? Doesn’t Jesus know who he is talking to? A people, then and now, who are prideful and self-seeking.  A people who love sensationalized drama and getting ahead.  The human instinct to judge and label and exclude…to these people, (these people) Jesus says if you forgive, they are forgiven.  If you retain, they are retained.  

Forgiveness sounds different depending on who is speaking it.  Forgiveness requires different modes of confession and repentance depending on what church is offering it.  There have been and still are eras of the church when forgiveness required looking a certain way, pledging allegiance to an empire.  There have been eras when the authority of the church was wielded with blood and control and oppression.   And there throughout all these eras there are churches who are quiet, fearful, stingy with their authority, slow to share freedom and forgiveness with its people.  The charge to  offer freedom in the name of Jesus, also brings the capacity of inflicting deep pain in that same name.

 So, what does a church, fully risen and forgiven by the scarred and risen Christ look like and sound like? How is this forgiveness and retention really lived in our faith community?

Every time we worship we participate in an ancient practice most recently called, the sharing of the peace.  Here at Westwood it happens differently at every worship service, at 9AM is falls just after the prayers of the people, at 10:30AM it comes at the beginning of our worship and on Wednesday evening people are invited to share God’s peace as they are leaving. It may be our most flexible, yet consistent, worship practice.  

Today it’s a friendly face and a genuine handshake.  In its earliest form however, the sharing of the peace was seen as an act of worship which responds directly to Jesus’ teaching that one cannot approach the altar of God without first having reconciled with their brother and sister.  The sharing of the people was also meant to be a sharing of grace and forgiveness. This ministry we do to each other is far greater than a sociable handshake or a ritual of friendship.   We give to each other what we are saying: Christ’s own peace, just as Jesus did in that locked room.  In worship we are called to be reconciled to one another, to get our affairs with one another in order, before God.   We move around, shaking hands, offering greeting and Christ’s peace – and sometimes reconciliation does indeed come through these small gestures. But we all know that the deep healing we all are in need of and the profound forgiveness our world is seeking often takes big efforts, sweeping humility and  mass movements. 

Being unassuming, quiet Midwesterners, forgiveness so often looks like a shrug of the shoulders, the trite mummer of “Oh, its ok.”. With these socially acceptable words and movements we confine the gift of forgiveness into a controllable exchange, nothing more than a polite handshake. However, the forgiveness of the cross comes from a darker, more prevailing and more hopeful place than a shoulder shrug.

A few years ago, I was preparing to leave a darkened corner of my world, an environment filled with anger, shame and violence.  After leaving, it took two more years before I could really discuss it and as shared with a trusted pastor how deeply I longed for reconciliation, how far away forgiveness or peace or wholeness seemed and I railed against how much pain was laid on these years.  I heard him say, “Of course it hurts, forgiveness so often does.” I was stunned by his statement and disturbed by how true it felt in my very core. Had there simply been shrugged shoulders at every offense we could have still been in that former place, leaving was a form of forgiveness.  Moving out of a ben posture of fear was a way of saying that there was something more life-giving.  It was in leaving that I finally experienced that new life God promises and extends to every person – even the angry, even the shameful.

When we simply shrug our shoulders we are saying that whatever brokenness that exists is ok, whatever hurt that has scarred us (or others) is ok and that ok-ness will stay with us. The forgiveness extended to us by God is so different from the shoulder shrug, for when God forgives us there is a swift and powerful movement away from what has been.  Forgiveness is a bull dozer that clears the way for newness of life and healthier ways of being human! 

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.  If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.  This is the call of the church, this is the charge from our Risen Savior: forgiveness is about being on the move, seeking out and fight for and pointing to life among us!

The world needs no more retaining – no more binding up hurts and horrors, our world is full of such spirits already.  I’m sure all of us where struck by the distressing headlines that filled the news this week.  When I read the endless blogs and articles addressing the horror that filled the streets of Baltimore this past week I was also remembering the words that have been preached from this pulpit these weeks since Easter – words that have claimed a resurrected world in the name of the Risen Christ.  And so the movement for reconciliation begins, the cry for the peace of the risen Christ must be heard from the church of Christ, from the people who share the peace and claim the resurrection here.
Where are you, risen Savior? Are you on the streets of Baltimore?
Where are you, risen Savior? Are you in the villages of India and Nepal?
…..Are you on the pillaged fields of the Bakken oil fields?
Where are you, risen Savior?
The risen Christ appears in these places of fear and locked doors.  He comes, breathing new life to the angry and shame-filled and destroyed ones.  And in his presence we know the violence that fell upon the body of Jesus was not the end of the story.  The injustice and corruption, the pride and prejudice did not have the final say! The risen Christ did indeed rise from all these powers of the earth and from the depth of the grace and spoke to his followers… “Peace be with you”
I saw the risen Christ in the feet of the clergy who marched together peacefully through the streets of Baltimore.  And I saw the risen Christ in the passionate face of a young man who put himself between a police line and restless protesters crying out, “Do not give them a reason, do not give them a reason.” 
Because forgiveness and reconciliation is a powerful, sometimes painful experience, Resurrection is not clean.  It is not devoid of emotion and outrage.  Being an Easter people does not mean living in our Easter clothes, afraid of getting them stained.  Being an Easter child means speaking life into death, breath hope into despair, it means getting in the face of division and hate and shaking up apathy and laziness.

Peace be with you, Baltimore.
Peace be with you, India and Nepal.
Peace be with you wastelands and oil fields.

We can share this peace because it has been spoken and shared with us.  Because our stories of fear and shame have been freed.  For it begins with you and your stories of forgiveness and movement and it is carried out into God’s world.

You are forgiven. You are free.
You are the church of the risen Christ on earth, may we be forgiveness, may we be freedom.

For the peace that surpasses our deepest hurts, for peace that will change the world, we say thanks be to God.  Amen. 

Friday, March 20, 2015

Gospel, Grace & Gift (the Lutheran standard)

You were dead through the trespasses and sins 2in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. 3All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else. 4But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us 5even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— 6and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus. 8For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— 9not the result of works, so that no one may boast. 10For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. Ephesian 2:1-10

Two years ago the Christian Century poised a challenged to authors, theologians, pastors and the general public to articulate their understanding of the gospel message, the good news, in 7 words or less.  In our era of constant connection to media, 24 hour news tickers and the surge of branding and marketing experts honing in on our shrinking attention spans tells us that pithy, catchy and clear messages are crucial. 

Many of the responses to the Christian Century challenge sound like these…

Death is defeated by Jesus - follow him!

Love God.  Love neighbor.  Transform the world. 
Love your neighbor as yourself.

These are all biblical supported statements, important elements of the life faith and what it means to live like a Christian.  They also are the parts of Christianity that flow into our popular culture – challenge, transform, be perfect, do more, live a big, impactful, unforgettable life! These concise statements are actually talking about the great commission…what Jesus asks of his followers, the call of the church.  But this is not the gospel.  There are too many action words, the sentiment is all about our lives and about us doing stuff, good stuff certainly, but these statements are primarily about us.  This is not the gospel.

Then there are some other responses that Christian Century received, see if you can hear a different core to these 7 word phrases…

                God, through Jesus Christ, welcomes you anyhow.
                In Christ, God’s yes defeats our no.
               
And this one, my favorite from the bunch, speaks the gospel message into our being,

                We are who God says we are.   We are who God says we are.

This seven words gospel nugget is as swift as it is intriguing.  For the people inside and outside and around the faith community, this pithy gospel slogan begs the question “If we are who God says we are…What does God say about us?!?”

If we are who God says we are…aren’t your curious about what that means? Well, both of our scripture passages today address this question quite directly, but I have a hunch the author of the 7 words was inspired by one of our verses from Ephesians…so we go back to this beautiful reading.

The author of Ephesians, first names our mortal reality.
                You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived…
We all have a past, short or long, that is marked with failures and flaws and that leaves us with scars from all the scratching and clawing we have tried to do on the way to being who we want to be.

All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.

I am so grateful to the author of Ephesians, that this dreary and entirely too honest word ends with like everyone else.  As if to say, don’t feel too bad, because you’re just like everyone else.  It is unavoidable – the pull to chase after gods that fail.  The desire to give away our hearts to those that will break it.  The defeat we succumb to when struggling with worldly realities we’ve discussed here each Wednesday; isolation, mental illness, addiction, financial strain and the great idol of busy-ness.

 We, as a people have a history, the church has a history – it’s not exciting or summed up in seven words – but it is a part of who we are, and how we are who we are.  We are a people, a church with a past and that is the beginning of who we are. 

Then the pivot…the point when this Word of God leads us through our past and points us in a new direction. 

But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses made us alive together with Christ.

Great love finds us, even when we were dead, Great love finds us and makes us alive together with Christ.  Brothers and sisters, listen up – because this is who we are.  We are not the failures, we are not the scars, we are not the sum total of our history or our trespasses. Nothing else gets to say who we are, not even our own self-loathing or self-congratulating selves.  We are alive together with Christ.

And then Ephesians gives us the battle cry of the Lutheran church, For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.

And, like everyone else, this just is.  This just is who we are.  Unable to wreak it, or spoil it.  Incapable of earning it or squandering it.  This just is who we are – recipients of the gift of God.


This seems like a good place to end my sermon.  Ephesians has brought us to the unexplained, extravagantly rich promise that we have been saved by grace through faith. 

But a nagging question has remained with me.  With Scripture texts such as these a sermon should have some pouring out this week with ease and passion and yet I found myself wrestling and wandering what this word of grace really means for us, Christians stumbling through a post-Christendom, post-modern world. 

I am not sure the church or the individuals who make up the church, or the individuals who don’t make up the church are really struggling with the question of grace.  I mean in the more classic sense of salvation and standing before the gates of hell and “being saved”.  Martin Luther once illustrated grace by saying it is like we are a helpless caterpillar, surrounding by a mighty ring of fire and God reaches down, pulls us up and rescues us.  I most certainly can be wrong, but I am guessing that by and large we are not a society that flees to church out of fear of damnation or a large ring of fire.  We have just progressed to a different place in popular belief, a more self-sufficient and self-surviving place.

Yet, there are still struggles.

I think we battle ourselves, our scars, our histories which make it difficult to surrender to the gift of grace.

I think the rise of individuality in our culture makes it difficult to understand such a radical gift and the horrors of our world and the systems of power and corruption plant strong seeds of doubt deep within.

And every single message that we receive every hour of every day telling us that we are not enough, or that we are too much and that we must earn our place in the classroom, in the office, in our homes, on our social media feeds or even in our families, that we must do more and be something other to earn our place on this earth.

When confronted with all this and the ugly, harmful ways this has a hold of God’s world….well, then that sounds an awful lot like the gates of hell in our post-Christendom, post-modern world.

We are who God says we are.  We are who God says we are.

It is a pithy gospel word – not simplistic, not watered down.  But it confronts our struggle with this word of grace, yes?

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.

It’s not 7 words, but it packs the punch.  Saving us from ourselves.  Telling us plainly and finally that the gospel promise flowing from God’s great love is done in Jesus Christ alone.  The gospel is completed and has been for quite some time now.  So we can leave it alone, we can need not add to it, or chase after it – for it will not leave us alone.  The grace of Jesus Christ comes into our being in its intruding, controlling, liberating, renewing kind of way and says this is now your way of life.

We are who God says we are: new creations alive with Christ.

There is one more take on this grace thing I would like to close with.  Frederick Beauchner is a favorite Christian author of mine and he has this earthy, honest reflection on grace…just a tad longer than 7 words.

Grace is something you can never get but only be given. There's no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth.
A good sleep is grace and so are good dreams. Most tears are grace. The smell of rain is grace. Somebody loving you is grace. Loving somebody is grace.
A crucial eccentricity of the Christian faith is the assertion that people are saved by grace. There's nothing you have to do. There's nothing you have to do. There's nothing you have to do.
The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you.
There's only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace is yours, reach out and take it.
Being able to reach out and take it is a gift you have been given too.

Thanks be to God of great love, the giver of all life and grace.  Amen.