In the Church it’s the Easter Season. But in our society it’s Mother’s Day.  In the poignant passage from the Gospel of John Jesus invites his mother to “behold” him, and the disciple whom Jesus loved to “behold” his new mother. This dynamic between mother and son at a critical moment shows the true caring that ought to characterize all of our parental/child relationships.  Not only was Mary a good mother, but Jesus was a good son, though not without causing his Mamma some grief.  May their mutual respect, conflict, and love for each other come to characterize our own homes as well.

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 The Preacher Says:

            For almost a century the 2^nd Sunday of May has been designated “Mother’s Day.” I like it when folks get a “day.” Groundhogs get one. Even Dads. Maybe someday preachers will have a day, if someday ever comes. Mother Earth has her day. Today is the Lord’s Day. In the pecking order of prominence, we’re wise to see that God gets one. I mean if he made ‘em all, right! But I’d bet more people observe Mother’s Day than the Lord’s Day. Dads are church‑averse, but moms have clout.  Christmas, Easter and Mother’s Day are the big three days of male holy obligation when wives and mothers are able to guilt-them into the pews. However you spin it, that puts our Moms right up there in mighty high cotton! Appropriately so; appropriately so.

            The mother/child relationship is on-going and continues beyond the grave. We never get finished interacting with our parents. The bond that connects us with our sources is one of the strongest there is. Even Jesus knew “from where he came and where he was going.” This is true for everyone here today. As diverse as we are, there aren’t many points where we’re alike, but this is one of them. We all entered history through two biological parents; and each of us are recipients of some kind of parental experience; either from our family of origins or someone who served in their stead. And for the rest of our lives some sort of interaction between us and them will take place.

            It can be negative or positive or neutral, depending on the circumstances. But with all of us, Mother’s Day is about unfinished business. And what’s true with us was certainly true of Jesus. The New Testament texts that speak of Jesus in relation to Mary and Joseph are very much like our own. His father fled to Egypt for safety. Worked in a carpenter shop, took him to church on the Sabbath. That’s about it for Joseph. But there’s plenty going on between Jesus and his Mamma. The impact of their influence continued as a force throughout his life, up to his dying hour. The interaction was robust, but by no means idyllic.

            Jesus and Mary got into it a lot. And it was often heated. This should surprise no one, because we’ve all lived way too long for innocence when it comes to parental relationships. We both bless and fail our kids; shape and mis-shape them with our own hang-ups. And when our kids have kids, they’ll do the same thing. It oughta be a great consolation for us to realize that even God didn’t require perfect parents in order to bring somebody like Jesus into the world. Mary and Joseph obviously did a lot of things right in Jesus’ youth. Otherwise how could he have the ability to develop the character, courage and spiritual strength to grow up as the best of the breed? One of the priceless gifts we can bestow on our kids is the gift of delight — in what they are and that they are. Like at his baptism when Jesus was affirmed by his Father as “one in whom he was well-pleased.”

            I started displaying the pink rose during my Silver Spring days, when a young woman shared with me how she dreaded going to church on Mother’s Day. She inherited negative messages from both her parents. Her mother’s situation was untimely. So she was an unwanted child. And her Dad wanted a boy. One said “I wish you weren’t here.” And the other said “I wish you were something else.” They laid a dual whammy on her. And she still finds it difficult to live that down.

            Now everybody should have a Jewish Mamma! Jesus had a pretty good one. And he turned out all right. But some mothers bequeath to us a “birth myth;” stories of our beginnings. Dad’s can’t do it. But Moms can. Some like to remind us of how much they suffered in order to bring us into the world; with a subtle obligation to pay them back for the pain we caused. “Look what I did to get you here, therefore you owe me by being what I want you to be as re-payment.” My Mom’s version was: “I brought you into this world and I can take you out!”

            But Jesus bears no trace of anything like that from Mary. A good mamma is somebody we can lean on. A better one makes leaning unnecessary. To her everlasting credit Mary didn’t load her son down with guilt for being born. Consequently he “increased in wisdom and stature, in favor with God and man.”  Lord knows Mary had her faults. She misunderstood Jesus’ need to go to the temple, “being about his father’s business.” Instead of supporting his religious quest, she chewed him out for being outa line! Nor did she understand him at the wedding in Cana where he called her “woman,” and not “Mother.” But this lack of understanding eventually grew to a state of alarm as Jesus riled up the masses and did weird things that upset his family. Like self-effacing Dolly Parton said, “All creative people are a little bit nuts!” 

            Finally they came to take him home. That’s when Jesus realized he had to draw a line between himself and his Mamma and claimed authority over his own life against her. We liken it to a mother bird pushing her young out of the nest. But it’s what every young adult has to do sooner or later. Or else live a life of weak dependency. Early on, as children we’re helpless. That’s when its appropriate to “cleave to father and mother,” to help us grow to a point where we can “launch out into the deep” and live out our lives in pursuit of “our Father’s business.” We weren’t intended to remain in a perpetual state of reliance on others. My parents provided us with a good home, but I couldn’t wait to get out the house! It seems odd in society today. There comes a time when the “cleaving” has to end and the “leaving” starts. It happened to Jesus when he set out to “be about his father’s business” and declared “Who is my mother, brother and sister? Those who do the will of my Father.” Not the will of Mary.

            A good Jewish Mamma, she was given to over-protectiveness in an attempt to maintain control of her puzzling Son. Think of what it does to somebody when they’re not trusted to find their own way. It says “you can’t handle it. We don’t believe in you.” Mary blessed her son tremendously. And yet they had to endure the difficult business of “distancing,” if he’s ever going to be who he is and not who she wants him to be. Still it didn’t sever their relationship completely or separate them totally. They continued to relate and interact, if from a proper distance.

            The Fourth Gospel says Mary was at the foot of the cross on the day he was crucified, the only member of his family mentioned. That took guts. It was a measure of her devotion that she continued to have for this one she loved very much but could not understand. The last thing Jesus did was an act of tenderness toward his mother, assigning to John the beloved, to adopt her as his mother. There’ll be no orphans in the kingdom of God! There is great affection and gratitude in his words: “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.” He cared for his mother Mary, right up to the end. (John gets a pink rose).

            So where are you in relation to your parents? What kind of “unfinished business” remains between you and your sources of existence? Dead or alive, the bond is unbreakable. One form of unfinished business for some of us may be to say thank you to our parents for all they did to get us where we are. To show our appreciation for the love and support when we weren’t able to take care of ourselves. For giving us a good start in life.

            Another form of unfinished business may take is to forgive our parents, for the mistakes they made on us. Some wounds are deep and we still carry them around. But one thing might become apparent. If we dig deep enough, parents who hurt their kids have predictably been hurt. Realizing that can soften the shape of our resentment and offering the gift of forgiveness, even to one no longer alive, can release the soul from a lot of pain. Maybe somebody here needs to lay down the feelings of hostility toward those who gave you life; to forgive them for their failures and hope that our children and our children’s children can find it in their hearts to forgive us someday.

            Another form unfinished business might take is to distance yourself from your parents and make your own way in fulfilling your destiny. Parents get used to the role of being the boss and some never grow out of it. If this is never challenged, kids become an echo of somebody else. And history will have missed out on one of the special gifts God intended to give to it. Nobody is bullied by anybody else unless they allow it. The domineering need somebody willing to be dominated. Humans have only the amount of freedom we’re willing to claim or even fight for if need be. Maybe somebody here has unfinished business and needs to do what Jesus did, “to leave father and mother” to dis-attach and assume responsibility in pursuit of “your Father’s business.”

            Or maybe the shape of your unfinished business is to make provision for your parent’s future as best you can. That’s the last thing Jesus did, to see to it that his mother had a future. And this too is proper. There’s a reciprocity built-in to the cycle of human life. At the beginning we’re helpless and completely dependent on our parents to provide for our needs. But when the cycle runs it’s course and our helplessness turns to strength and their strength turns to helplessness. Is it not right and good that we care for those who cared for us? Parents have the responsibility for the dawn of life. Their kids have a responsibility for the sunset.

            Recently I saw a TV documentary entitled “Am I my brother’s keeper?” It took place in a family in West Virginia. And the tender efforts of a middle age couple trying to take care of her grandfather, suffering from the difficulties of aging. It began with the picture of the grandfather as a young man, 25 years old. And ended with one of the dying man being held helplessly in his granddaughter’s arms. Life goes full circle from helpless to helpless. The commentator noted we’re much more accustomed to seeing older people taking care of younger people; than younger people taking care of the elderly. But that will change as people live longer.

            So “am I my brother’s keeper?” No, I’m not my brother’s keeper. I’m my brother’s brother.  Because people are not to be kept.

ProvidencePrayers: (5/13/12)

            Here in this house of prayer, where we become a part of something bigger than we are, O Lord, we acknowledge that there are times when all that keeps our faith afloat is a sense of gratitude for all the ways we are blessed.  While the headlines beat us down, still there are many blessings in our lives–a sense of purpose, decent health, loving families, good friends.  For meaningful worship, uplifting music, the wisdom of the scriptures, inspiring us with the hope that tomorrow will be better than today, we give Thee thanks.

            We would not overlook those blessings that come to us in disguise: unwelcome burdens that make us stronger, sieges of illness that destroy our notions of indispensability; confronting differing viewpoints that cause us to solidify our own determination to earn the ground we hold.  Let this church with its towering steeple, continue to be a sign of hope for an age that seems to kill the things it loves.  We thank Thee for our leaders who think and feel; for members who balance faith and reason and whose loyalty to Christ is a 7‑day a week affair. 

            We remember all for whom life is hard trying to come to terms with their losses.  Some watch their health slowly declining. Remind us all that Thou art the Great Physician. Bless all in need with your promise and our presence.  We pray for ourselves, a people with many different outlooks, capable of mischief and mercy; people who on a clear day can see forever; and in our darker moments struggle to see at all.  While we need each other to lift us out of ourselves, let us never forget that what holds us together keeps others away. For all of our false starts and broken promises grant us the faith to see Thee as Thou art, so that we may praise Thee as we ought.  Through Christ our Lord.

            On the Fifth Sunday of Easter the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet frames our worship. It is understandable if the disciples don’t get the point. We wash before the meal, not in the middle of it. The master’s feet are washed by the servants; not the other way around. Events are not unfolding in a way that makes sense to them. No wonder Peter blurts out, “You will never wash my feet!” But just as we prepare for supper by washing our hands, Jesus prepares his disciples for what lies ahead, by washing their feet.

            This is scandalous, of course. The soul does not want to be face to face with a God who is less than all-powerful. The spectacle of a kneeling God is devastating. No! Let God be seated on a throne, holding all the symbols of power; let us be the ones to kneel. No wonder Peter is stunned when he sees Emmanuel crouching at his feet! Because Jesus knows what’s coming he wants his followers to be ready: Jesus will die (and live); the disciples will live (and die). Whether we wash in it or drink from it, Jesus offers living water.

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            When we lived in Arizona one of our favorite places to visit was the “Desert Caballeros Western  Museum” in Wickenburg, a cow town west of Phoenix. It provides an in-depth history of the Southwest. In the section featuring 19^th century practices of stagecoaches, they offered tickets in 1^st, 2^nd & 3^rd class. The price descended with each category. However, the distinction wasn’t whether you got a window or aisle seat. But what’s required in case of an emergency. Which happened a lot in those frontier days. Because the roads were unpaved, and had lots of mud holes and steep hills.  Sometimes even a team of horses couldn’t pull a fully loaded coach. No problem if you went 1^st class; you got to stay on board. But those in 2^nd class had to get out and walk up the hill to lighten the load.  And if you purchased the economy 3rd class ticket, you were expected to get out and do the dirty work and assist the stagecoach driver push the vehicle up a hill or pull it through the mud. This arrangement makes sense in light of the times and conditions of 19^th century transportation. It’s logical that the more you pay, the better the privilege. Like flying 1^st class or coach today. Considering that’s how the world works with a lot of resentment over classism identified these days by percentages, Jesus was revolutionary. Because he stood the world’s hierarchy of values on its head. He turned the accepted order of 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd class upside down.

            Today’s scripture lesson from the Gospel of John, tells what he did on the last night of his life. He wisely anticipated the ordeal that lay ahead. So he wanted to spend his final hours with his friends in a farewell meal, that’s since been instituted as “the last Supper.” So Jesus arranged a place in an Upper Room, and 13 of them gathered as the sun went down. But then a problem developed over the common practice of “washing their feet.” The disciples didn’t wanta bother with it, because they were more concerned with their privileges. So in the middle of the meal Jesus got up and did the dirty work himself!

            Washing somebody’s feet is a practice we’re unfamiliar with because we wear shoes and socks. In Jesus’ day the roads were dusty like Arizona, and they wore sandals without socks. So they washed feet like we do hands. Those in the upper class had slaves do the washing.  In Jesus’ circle that was a luxury, so they passed the different responsibilities around. But the disciples, perhaps sensing things were coming to a head, had been arguing that day about “who gets to be in 1^st class and who’s relegated to 3^rd class.” The same Stagecoach-system was operative back then too.  With the same old struggle over who was on the bottom of the totem pole. Even though it was a common-sense system, it still lends itself to grievance and competition. Wanting a place that somebody else has is built-in.

            So the disciples’ were squabbling as they ate the Last Supper. When you’re bent-on being better than somebody else, nobody’s in a mood to do the menial task of washing somebody’s feet. “What’s in it for me,” takes precedent over “who does the job.” When oversized egoes get in the way of contributing, that’s when things break down. Even in the gospel of John there is gridlock. When nobody is willing to do what needs to be done, that’s when Jesus stood tall by stooping down. And here’s the key:  “Knowing he came from God and was going back to God.” When you know where you came from and where you’re going, it liberates us to accomplish something worthwhile.

            “He got up from the table, wrapped himself in a towel. The Master did the work of a slave: washing the disciple’s feet. And when he had finished he said, “Do you realize what I have done?” Noooooo! Do you understand what the world calls greatness is “lording it over other people,” striving for privilege and manipulating somebody else to do it for you?  But for Jesus, true greatness in the kingdom of God is the willingness to freely serve somebody, to do what needs to be done.

            How do you market Jesus’ zany standard of values in a world that strives for position of privilege? No wonder people don’t come to church! Church is where there is only 3rd class; where others come 1^st. Church is where we get out and push; and wash off the dirt; and do whatever else needs to be done for the overall good of the commonwealth. How odd this sounds today, when it’s all about me, me, me! In the financial world, it goes from the top down. In Labor, it’s about seniority. In the government it’s about votes and getting to stay in power. In society just follow the money. And that’s given us envy, rioting and anarchy! Getting to go 1^st class is the name of the game in every realm I can think of … except the church, where everyone stands on the same level before God. In the church, even the banished are accepted. When fear that we might not get to be at “the head of the class” casts out love, we revert back to “the law of the jungle.” Where the goal is to be “King of the Hill,” the common good will suffer every time, even Jesus’ disciples were not exempt.

            Where can we turn today to find people like our Lord who realize the value of their worth, “knowing that they came from God and are going back to God,” so they don’t have to focus on self?  In my estimation, this is one of the church’s greatest gifts: to remind us “where we came from and where we’re going.” This is what enables church members to volunteer to serve on the mission field. We don’t do it because we have-to but because we want-to do what needs to be done; even if it means getting down and dirty. Church is where we learn what Jesus meant by being a 1st class human being.

            What was true then is still true now. Wise business managers know what to look for in their employees. Somebody who cares about what needs to be done instead of just drawing a paycheck. That’s because there are two kinds of people. Those who want to be something. And those that want to do something. That’s why Jesus said “It’s not enough just to know this, you will be happy if you do it.” Jesus will take a do-er over a be-er every time. God knows somebody whose desire is to be something has an over-sized ego. Rather than doing a job, they use the job and other people to enhance their sense of deficiency.

            One whose goal is status and place looks with double vision at every problem. Instead of asking, “What needs to be done?” they ask, “How can I play this, to advance my self interests?” How can somebody with this mind-set make difficult decisions, if they’re incapable of sacrificing or risking looking bad or what others might think? Too many people like this in places of our decision‑making leads to a frustrating existence where nobody gets anywhere. Those who want to do something have gotten themselves off their hands. If a problem calls for a hard decision; if it calls for sacrifice, what should I do to bring about the most good? Who wouldn’t want an employee like this? That’s what Jesus was demonstrating to his disciples.

            What holds in the secular world echoes the wisdom of Jesus centuries ago: true greatness is not about trying to be prominent; or being too good to get out and push awhile or have somebody do it for us. A 1^st class human, according to Jesus is one who is willing to serve, and contribute to the needs and alleviating the difficulties of others. We in the church come from the same source, as Jesus. By the grace of God, we “come from God, and are going to God.” Our worth has already been determined. Therefore we are free to give something back. Our calling is to be part of the answer, not part of the problem.

            In 1994 I went on a mission trip to Cuba. We loaded our suitcases full of medicine and clothes to leave behind. When we were packing, my wife handed me a big bag of hard candy. She said “I expect this will come in handy sometime while you’re there.” And she was right. We went through lots of small towns with what seemed like hundreds of children rushing to us when we got out of the car, in case we had something to give. In one place I got out my bag of candy. It went fast. I tried to give everyone their fair share, but as it began to run low I was anxious that I might not have enough for all of them.

            Sure enough there were two kids left and I had only one piece of candy, individually wrapped so it couldn’t be separated. The older boy was closest to me so I gave the candy to him. There was a moment of hesitation. He looked at the candy and saw that my bag was empty. Then he handed it to his little sister. And a big smile came on her face as they walked away. And I thanked him. And Jesus said “Bingo!” That kid gets it. To go 1^st class in his stagecoach, it’s about what we can give to others, not what others can give to us. Therefore, I would invite all of us to go 1st class, Jesus style. He could’ve ridden a stallion of war, but he preferred a beast of burden.

            On the last night of his life, he got down and dirty with his disciples, in a 1^st class act of humility. He wasn’t too good to wash his disciples’ feet. And sooner or later he’s gonna get to Judas. Now what’s he gonna do? He looked up into the eyes of the one who would betray him and then back down at his feet to wash off the dirt. Whew! 1^st class, Jesus style! He means for us to do the same; to love not only those who’re easy to love, but those who are hard to love. To the filthy as well as the clean, the banished as well as the embraced, Judas as well as John. Aren’t all of us mixtures of faith and betrayal? The good news is:  no matter where we’ve been, no matter where we are, or where we go, what we’ve done or had done to us, God loves all of us.  Even Judas. In our moments of crisis, tragedy, celebration, anxiety, pain, and despair; the love of Christ is there for us too…as the Gospel of John put it — “right to the very end.”

 ProvidencePrayers: (5/6/12)

            Our prayer is to the One who “emptied himself” that we might be fulfilled, “Even the son of man came not to be served, but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.” Tatoo those words on our hearts with indelible ink, Lord. And that your measure of us is not how many servants we have but how many people we serve.

            Our prayer is to him whose only weapons to conquer the world were a towel and a basin. Whose  grace always runs downhill. Whose gospel is the most counter-intuitive force in history. Even salvation history. Who wants to be ransomed, as guilty rebels; when we can be coddled, as misunderstood victims? We’d much rather have a 2^nd chance than a 2^nd birth. May this hour of worship enable us to accept ourselves and be delivered from the need of self-promotion; to commit ourselves and shake the need to be distracted; to deny ourselves that we may know the truth that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Renew our love for the scriptures, keep us hungry to make the world a better place, with a tenacity to contend for what we believe is right, and to always be ready to admit our limitations. May this church continue to stand for the truth that sets us free.

            Our prayer is to him who remains the same above all the changes and chances of our hurrying years, be near to all of us in  our individual ways; bless each of us with what we need most, so that the pardon, hope, and direction of the Gospel will minister to us and lead us on.

            Our prayer is to him whose love is less “because of” and more a love “in spite of.” Let the remembrance of Thy grace around the table today make us more authentically human and more dependably beneficial to Thee, for we pray in faith and with thanksgiving, through Christ our Lord…

On the Fourth Sunday of Easter Luke’s account of Jesus’ second appearance story continues. It features Jesus as crucified, risen and hungry. It is subtle, psychologically honest, ambiguous, startling, mixed with joy, doubt, disappointment, and blindness; all the things that characterize life as we know it. It shows how our expectations can blind us. However Luke makes it clear that the Jesus who died and has been raised has not come back simply to take up his old job. Rather he patiently explains “the words that he spoke to them while he was still with them.” There is continuity but also discontinuity. All that contributes to the disturbance we feel when we have trouble recognizing that which used to be familiar to us.

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            My wife faithfully reads the Knoxville obits and crime scenes. Recently there was a “disturbance” on a street near our place. But what kind of disturbance? So we were disturbed by the disturbance. Cause there are disturbances … and then there are disturbances. Sometimes we enjoy being disturbed; if it’s playful. Brave preachers will even try it in church! Like when I recently cajoled the choir to blast the unison litany from the balcony: “Whoooo Cay-uhs!” It disrupted the preaching, but it fit. Shaking ‘em out the door that day, folks don’t remember much of what I said. But they sure remembered what the choir said! People enjoy being unsettled. Up to a point. As long as we don’t cross the line; then it’s not funny anymore. When the disturbance upsets us, messes with our convictions, threatens our world view. When our beliefs are challenged and our values mocked, nobody enjoys that.

            I learned about “the birds and the bees” when I was just a child; around 7-8. Andy Patrick, who was older than me broke the shattering news to me about how babies got here. Now mind you I still believed in Santa Claus! But when he told me what my Mamma did in order for me to get here, I protested! It was alarming. “My Mamma wouldn’t do anything like that!” He said “how do you think you got here, dummie?” And when I said My Daddy ordered me from the Montgomery Ward Catalogue,” needless to say, I never heard the end of that one. They had something on me for 40 years!

            Even when I went to college, I thought I had my ducks in a row. My world view was naive, my theology was fundamental, and I went into the classroom with a big chip on my shoulder: “Don’t try to change me!” And everything I heard from my professors was painful! To realize that I might have it wrong; that I needed to expand my outlook. Nobody likes that kind of disturbance. But it’s a given if you intend to get an education. Otherwise it’s just indoctrination.

            Disturbances are fun, till they tangle with something we think we had settled. I recall how flustered I was when it was pointed out to me that none of the gospel stories of the resurrection are alike. One says it occurred before sun-up; another says after the sun was up.  And you know my professor relished in pointing that out! “Was it two angels or one?” Whew! It was unsettling. And I couldn’t reconcile it to make it fit my literal approach to the scriptures. Finally I had to step back and admit it. I know it’s not the highest motivation for studying the Bible, but hey when you’re agitated! I tried to spin it every way I could think of but there it was as plain as day. Thanks be to God, during my schooling, I grew into a broader vision of the scriptures, with instructors who gave me permission to change my mind. What’s wrong today is so many walk across the stage with their diplomas in hand and don’t change!

            We’re OK till something we hold dear is overturned. It happens often in the classroom. I was fortunate to have caring professors, who helped me get a handle on updating my philosophy. Because they never openly disparaged my old one. I repeat, they never disparaged my old one. That big-spiritedness paved the way for an “open mind to the scriptures,” to provide space to re-think a more realistic approach to life and people. Their attitude was “we report, you decide.”

            Have you ever had anything like that happen to you? Where you were forced to reconsider your values; what it means for your faith? I hope so. It happened to the disciples. According to the Gospel of Luke, the death and resurrection of Jesus was so confounding to them, they couldn’t handle it by themselves. They’re all over the place. Matthew said he appeared to those on a mountain in the Galilee, “but some doubted.”  John allowed as how Thomas said “I won’t believe it till I see it!” Mark said “The Marys sprinted out of the cemetery in fear and trembling and didn’t say anything to anyone!” Luke is best of all “They disbelieved for joy!”

            Can you identify with their consternation? The gospels never claim the disciples had it all together. Each one is different. But all are alike in declaring this was so upsetting that it impacted everything they believed and turned their world upside-down and inside out. There were no maps. Luke allows as how they tried to run from it and turn back to the past. They didn’t know what else to do. The two on the road to Emmaus were going back home. Simon Peter led some of the fishermen back to theGalilee. Fishing was familiar. They knew how to fish. But they didn’t know what to do with Jesus. They were quite vexed by it.

            Now these are not atheists. They believed in God. Judaism had served them well. When they met Jesus they were already religious. They observed the Sabbath; prayed and sang hymns, gave alms to the poor, offered sacrifices at the temple. Judaism would do just fine. They worshiped God. Who needs a crucifixion or a resurrection? They can go back to their old religion. It’s not so disturbing. Or they could modify it. No need for radical change. Trim it down some so they can wrap their arms around it. Add a little Jesus onto what they already had. That’s not so disturbing. Or they could jettison their entire past, and go completely with the new. Go around pressuring folks to do what you did and embrace Jesus they way you did. “My way or no way.” All that does it turn people off. But even that’s not so disturbing.

            What is disturbing was this new experience that invaded their faith, that forced them to re-appropriate it into their lives after the crucifixion. That’s hard, because “the future ain’t what it used to be!” I’m not sure how new experiences impact us most, the future or our past. We all have a past. It’s all we have till the future happens. Then it becomes the past. It’s who we’ve been; who we’ve become; all that brought us here. We dare not discard our past. That is Alzheimers. You have to “stand your ground” to hold onto it. Because today elitists view the past as a less enlightened age, instead of the distilled experience of millions who faced similar human vicissitudes before us.

            That’s why no one genuinely becomes an overnight conservative or an overnight liberal. Having been some of each I can’t make fun of anybody’s past. Or belittle how they got to be the way they are. It takes time for a genuine person to become what they are. Many things come into play. That’s why we’re different. And different is not bad. It’s just … different. The Bible says there were two huge issues that terribly disturbed the early church: 1) the death and resurrection of Jesus. And 2) His mission to the Gentiles. Good Friday wiped them out! They couldn’t come to terms with the fact that the Christ must suffer. Even though he taught them often. It flew over their heads.

            When Peter confessed him as the Christ in Caesarea-Philippi, he rebuked Jesus as soon as he said “he must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die.” At the Transfiguration, three disciples got a glimpse of the suffering messiah. Even though Moses and Elijah were there to confirm it, it was just too disconcerting that the Christ must suffer. Everybody knows messiahs are supposed to rid us of suffering. Maximum protection was what they expected. What they got was minimum protection. But maximum support. When all you get is support when you expected protection, it’s very disappointing.

            Equally disappointing was Jesus’ mission to the Gentiles. Like Jonah they didn’t want to hear it. Their belief that they were exceptional was so ingrained in them for so long, it didn’t register. Jesus went out of his way to teach them, the Samaritan woman at the well, James and John calling down heavenly fire. His mission was to the Gentiles too! “It’s for everybody.” It’s so distressing.

            The Risen Christ came back after Easter to remind them what their own Bible says. He “opened their minds” so they could understand it. The past you think is threatened by his death and resurrection is the same one that prepared them to go forward. Paul said in Galatians “In Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave or free.” Jesus wanted them to “Go back and work through it again.” Don’t run from what disturbs you. Stand your ground! Bring what bothers you to worship. If only because you believe the living Christ will open your mind so you can reclaim your past. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been there. One function of the church is to allow us to embrace all that we were and are; not despise it, or run from it, or live in it. I feel sorry for folks who’ve never had the carpet pulled from under them. They’re missing out on all the benefits of being wrong.

            In this world — there will be huge disturbances; that nobody admits. Shocking, bewildering. In our society today it’s a scandal a day. Fast and Furious. The Secret-Service-secrets exposed. The gleeful GSA disgrace. Openly flaunting decent standards. Adults acting like kids. It’s disturbing. But hey, they’re cool! When did it become more important to be cool than to have character?

            Jesus post-Easter message was to point them to what he said to them before. To remind them to remember. My wife and I love our Maltese doggie. But this breed has a mind of its own. She’s the first dog I’ve had that wouldn’t fetch a ball. Most dogs do that instinctively. Lilly Beth just looks at the ball and goes like “Something tells me he doesn’t want that ball!” I’ll toss it and she just stands there. I point to the direction of the ball, “It’s over there!” And she wags her tail and smells my finger! “No. Go get the ball!” When it comes to chasing a ball, our Lilly Beth just doesn’t get it.

How much more finger pointing does God have to do?

 Providence Prayers (4/29/12)

            We relish the Season of Easter, Lord, a time when dancing on tables seems more appropriate than kneeling in prayer.  Mindful of the discrepancy: a time of hope and joy, coupled with the coarsening of our culture, we still keep trying division and violence.

            As we look to the world above us, we’re reminded that the more we know of Thee, the more we realize the need to know Thee more. In a world that is cautious about believing anything it can’t touch or smell or measure, help us to see the unseen with the eyes of faith.

            As we look to the world below us, we hear the worn-out complaints about all that’s wrong with your world and your church — the despised organized religion.  May Jesus’ modesty curb our status‑seeking, his humility melt our pride, his purity condemn our lust, his love for people shame our love of things, and his universal mission challenge our sectarian aimlessness.

            As we look to the world within us, Lord, we’re prompted to lay our many needs before Thee; our own individual needs, so varied that no one prayer can say it all.  Make us grateful that our ways are known unto Thee; that faith outlasts the night; that Thy judgments are redemptive; and Thy mercies sure. Grant us the ability to overcome whatever in us runs counter to the risen Lord, and the courage to be loyal to spreading the light he came to shine.

            As we look to the world around us, give us compassion for those grieving the inexplicable losses this week, whose lot in life is harder than ours; and those nearby who live and die as though there was no Easter, who can’t seem to recognize that at the heart of things — love reigns, and heaven cares.

            Grant us peace in the confidence of our faith, so we may live out our lives as best we can, in trust that the love we’ve met in Christ Jesus will someday rule the world. May that “kingdom … come on earth, as it is in heaven.”  So shall we continue to have unfailing cause to bless Thy name.  Through Christ our Lord.

This week’s Easter text is the appearance of the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus.  A story centered around the disbelief of the disciples and the fulfillment of Jesus’ words, depicting the emotions of fear, sadness, surprise, and joy. Within this cycle of disbelief and fulfillment, we see the drama of crucifixion resolved by resurrection. Remembering, interpreting the scriptures, sharing a meal, and opening the mind are some of the ways God gets through to us when we’re blinded by life’s ambushes.  If that happens in our worship, this scene will be re-enacted in our time.

Hear the sermon

The Preacher Says:

            Have you ever experienced something so strange you had to re‑orient your thinking to explain it? Most things we can handle. But every now and then a rare experience leaves us completely flustered; so off the wall, we can’t find a context to fit it into. The followers of Jesus had one of those “too-good-to-be-true” experiences. What they saw, heard, and touched completely baffled them. And they were a mess. The church grants us 50 days to let it all soak in. Today’s text for the third Sunday of the Easter Season, is one of seven post-resurrection stories. All of them are a little ghostly. A familiar stranger, is gradually recognized as Jesus, but then vanishes after they realize who he is.

            Good Friday stories aren’t like that. They’re 100% solid. Jesus is nailed to a cross with his nameplate tacked on it, where he dies in front of many witnesses. There is no mistaken identity on Calvary. No sudden appearances and disappearances. He stayed put. The death is real. And the resurrection is only a rumor. Hearsay is hard to substantiate. Somebody allowed as how the tomb was empty, which can mean anything. But that was the situation facing the early church. And what we find there is what we still experience here. Except it would be nice if we had his address or email!

            For Luke, it lies somewhere on a road between here and Emmaus. He’s the only one to mention the story. But all of us can identify with it. It’s the stroll you take when life ambushes you; when your team lost; when your candidate was not elected; when somebody you love died. It’s our feeble attempts to try to get our life back to what it used to be but never can be. Real crucifixion. Resurrection rumor. It’s a heckuva place to be. Their story is all we have.

            For these two deeply disappointed disciples, they’re hopes were crushed. It was a three day whirlwind. They put their hopes in Jesus. But he was a big let-down. They “hoped that Jesus was to be the one to redeem Israel.” But after he’s arrested, crucified and entombed, surrounded by guards, some of the ladies claimed they had a vision of angels at the empty grave.  Good Friday was too real. Easter’s still a rumor. Each post-resurrection appearance story is ambiguous. We’d expect some assurance on Easter. Instead all of them feature a mixture of ecstasy and despondency; an intermingling of delight and discouragement. The news was heard differently by different disciples. For some it was an explosion of joy; for others an erosion of hope. It’s a staggering thought; especially if all you have to go on is a rumor.  God raised from the dead Jesus of Nazareth and even some of his original followers missed it. I guess there’ll always be some people who miss out on Easter.

            I wonder about our own experience with the resurrection. I’m not talking about going to church on Easter Sunday. How would you describe your experience with resurrection? Because we can be “in church” on Easter Sunday and still miss Easter, just as Cleopas and his buddy were inJerusalembut missed the risen Christ.   Both Luke and John have stories about somebody missing out on Easter. In John it was Thomas. Cleopas fills that role in the third Gospel. In both accounts, Jesus comes back to re-energize them for what lies ahead.        

            What stands out to me is how the risen Christ understands those who missed him. It means so much to be understood. To be listened to; to be taken seriously. That’s always been an attractive role of the church. A place where people try to be understanding even if they don’t understand. I find it striking that the New Testament Gospels never demand that we understand either Jesus or his resurrection. Or the crucifixion either, for that matter. Nobody is required to make sense of the climactic events in the turbulent life of Jesus. Instead, the post-resurrection appearances lighten our burden in our attempts to explain the unexplainable; (to unscrew the inscrutable)! It’s a good thing to know that we don’t have to understand Easter to experience Easter.

            Jesus’ capacity for understanding lies beyond our ability to comprehend. He can inspire magnificent visions and also minister in the face of shattered dreams. He’s a Prince of Peace who won’t shy away from chaos or conflict. What he says we can depend on. He taught us to pray but also accepts those who’ve been burned by unanswered prayers. He identifies people who don’t always get it right. He offers unmatched encouragement, but knows better than any other the depths of discouragement. For those like Cleopas and his friend who haven’t sensed the joy of Easter; who are convinced that all that’s left is to give up and walk away in despondence. Luke says Jesus understands.

            And he appears, even to those not looking for him! He appeared to Mary, who came to anoint him. She didn’t have the slightest suspicion that Jesus might be alive. Jesus appeared to these two downcast travelers worn out because of their sorrow. We can only stand so much of that. Like Mary, neither were they looking for Jesus. Or maybe they’re looking for him in the wrong places. Just trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered faith and carry-on with Jesus no longer around. Resurrection from the grave was the farthest thing from their mind. He told them about the third day. They should’ve known. The resurrection was so low on their radar screen that when he showed up, some thought he was a ghost. And others refused to believe what they saw. When the familiar looks strange it does that to us.

            None of Jesus’ appearances were marked by dramatic settings or regal greetings. Just common place stuff. Like being mistaken for a gardener; appearing out of nowhere on a dusty road; or cooking a fish-breakfast for his disciples on the shoreline of the Galilee. We don’t have to tour an empty tomb in a garden in Jerusalem to experience the reality of Easter. The risen Lord comes to be with us wherever we are too; at meal times, in fun times, when we’re at work, and when we’re worried. Jesus comes to people of faith plagued by doubts and still appears where we least expect him.

            But he never comes just for the heck of it. He comes for a reason. These two needed tending to. Notice how he “interpreted to them the scriptures” (v. 45). He “opened their mind.” Mercy how we need that in today’s world! So many closed minds; made up minds. It’s a common human foible. One of the first things Jesus did after Easter was open the minds of his followers. It’s almost surgical. And after he opened their minds, he interpreted not just what it meant in general, but what it meant for them in particular. Jesus thinks it’s important that we have a measure of self‑understanding.

            The risen Christ takes the trouble to comes alongside of us, not above us, but beside us, to understand us and interpret us so we can better understand ourselves. They’ll be needing that for what’s ahead. Never behind. Always ahead. That’s the direction of God. That was the angel’s message to the disciples. “He goes before you, into Galilee.” It’s nice to know that before we go, Jesus is already there. Christ helps us understand by challenging us when we need to be confronted, warning us when we need to be flagged, blessing us when we need to be affirmed, loving us when we need to be appreciated. To correct us when we need correcting, and direct us when we need directing. The story of Cleopas shows us that Jesus not only takes us where we are and shows us where we oughta be, but also assists us in getting there. “He opened their minds to the scriptures. And their hearts burned  within them!”

            Thelast thing he did was commission them. He gaves them something to do. Jesus called to mission every person to whom he appeared. That means communion with Christ and a commission from Christ are inseparable. Sharing the gospel and caring for people are what Easter is really about. As much as life after death. For Jesus it’s no big deal if his disciples don’t get the resurrection right. He sends them off on a mission with flimsy credentials. The gospel doesn’t hang upon correctness. All they have is the story. Their calling is to tell it. And for those who haven’t seen him it’s still a rumor. But for him, mission overtakes intellectual brilliance.

            This is a resurrecting universe. Things can bounce back. We see it in nature, as springtime erupts from the bleak days of winter. But also in societies. Time and again those virtues of goodness, truth, and beauty seem to be destroyed in the flow of history. Then somehow, they keep rising up again. We need to realize that in our time, which looks dark.

            All the great values of Western civilization were in peril when the Nazi’s came to power inGermanyin 1933. Slowly, the great lights of tolerance, the free flow of ideas, and of a church uninhibited by the state were snuffed out.  The whole world was at war. Jews, gays, the mentally handicapped, and critics of the state were shipped out to the concentration camps and the ovens. Millions never returned. A darker period of humanity is hard to imagine. But the things that seemed to be given over to death from 1933 to 1945 have returned in Germany and Japan. Today both countries are strong allies of democracy. In our lifetime, witnessing national resurrection says it’s possible that the destructive history that plagued the world can be risen above.

            This larger view of the resurrection applies to where we’re situated here in Providence. The existence of this church for almost 400 years is a testimony to that. Surrounded by the arts, institutions of higher learning, uplifting choral music. Our majestic steeple symbolizes the truth of the scriptures; freedom to believe. Truth, beauty, goodness, freedom. It’s why 5000 souls from all over the world visit The Meeting House every year. We still make it our business to see to it that resurrection isn’t just a rumor!

            As St. Paul reminds us : “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think on these things” (Philippians 4:8).

 ProvidencePrayers: (4-22-12)

            O God, who chased away the gloom of the disciples with the gospel of Easter and drowned their despair in a sea of grace, surprise us in this Easter season. Take away from us the presumption that leans on our strength instead of yours; the impudence that mistakes our wisdom for yours; and the audacity that equates our will with yours.

            We acknowledge that the life you have given to us has many good things. The problem is that most of them can be gotten only by sacrificing other good things. In a time where they are no solutions, only trade-offs, we thank you for “opening our minds” to the scriptures.”  May we not “harden our hearts” against its inconvenient interpretation. We invoke your power to overcome strife, to endure suffering, to rise above affliction and to pass beyond death. 

            Let us never lose sight of the connection between Good Friday and Easter — that your victories don’t come without cost.  Make us as willing to pay the price of your victories as we are to claim them for ourselves. Instead of lamenting our inability to make our neighbors take notice of us, make us doers of deeds that turns their attention to you.  Assure us that our Lord’s promise still holds and be present with us now, as in the days of Jesus, to make us whole and to make us holy.  Through Christ our Lord.

  The disciples were taking no chances.  Earlier in the day, Mary Magdalene returned from the tomb with unbelievable news.  But the numbing memories of Friday were too fresh in their minds.  In their confusion and fear, the disciples remained huddled away in the safety of the upper room.  It was an instinctive response, born out of self-preservation. It was there that the risen Christ found them running on empty, piercing their self-imposed isolation, greeting them with peace.  There was no denying the scars on his body.  Yet there stood the Christ as proof of what God can do with what we have done.  The disciple’s fear was overcome with joy. But Jesus reminded them that more joyous still would be those whose faith knows no limits, who demand no proof, and who are waiting to believe, even now, in the unbelievable.

Hear the sermon

The Preacher Says:

            Today’s gospel reading tells of Jesus’ second appearance after Easter. The disciples are behind closed doors in the Upper Room. But Jesus comes to open them. They, like the folks in our churches, come in all stripes and flavors. And arrive at their faith in different ways. Some see the risen Christ in one glorious revelation, like Mary Magdalene. Some say, “Show me the evidence,” like Thomas. Others stumble into it, like Simon Peter. Many, like Judas are never sure what they believe. It’s no wonder, because after Easter Jesus comes and goes like a rainbow on a sunny day: now you see him, now you don’t! All they had to go on was a rumor, that could only be tested by dying themselves. Somebody said they saw him, but it didn’t look like him. And before they recognized him, he vanished!

            Mary of Magdala, was the first person to whom Jesus appeared. Considering today’s latest “war,” the war on women, even then it was highly unusual for Jesus not to appear to a man. But that’s just like Jesus. Mary thought he was the gardener till he spoke her name. A week later he had some unfinished business with Thomas, up in the Upper Room. I’ve always had a soft spot for Thomas, popularly known as “the doubter;” but he’s just tardy. Nor did he put much stock in blind faith. But neither was he gullible. Like some folks will believe anything, even obvious lies, if only because they agree with it or wish it to be true!

            Thomas was the odd‑man out; and no‑doubt felt left‑out! Nobody likes being the last one to learn of exciting news. I suppose the disbelief on Easter is to be expected. The disciples didn’t believe the women. And Thomas didn’t believe the disciples. Nobody believed anybody at first. Is it any wonder? Jesus is back from the dead! For something this big, Thomas insisted “Unless I see it, I’m not buying it.” It’s understandable, to take somebody’s word on something so incredulous. Anybody trying to make sense of today’s monumental challenges and doesn’t have doubts, hasn’t lived long enough. A sense of curiosity is a healthy concomitant to growth. Critical thinking frees us from illusions and enables us to distinguish between what’s real and fake.  Because the opposite of faith is certitude, it’s why I’m suspicious of those without any doubts! Because they’re unprepared to be wrong.  And miss out on the deep lessons that life has to teach us.

            Thomas was up-front with his questions. Questions are good. Even Jesus questioned God on the cross: “Why have you forsaken me?“   But it wasn’t because of his doubt; it was because he believed.  Jesus is one of many biblical doubters, like John the Baptist; “Are you the one?” Remember the father of the epileptic “Help my unbelief.” Paul and Silas were in jail in Philippi. Suddenly there’s an earthquake and doors were flung open!  But they didn’t run.  Like those in the Upper Room, the jailer’s afraid of dying. But Paul wasn’t afraid. Heck he said “I die daily. Death where is your sting?” He believed what the angel said to Mary: “Don’t be afraid.”

            The other disciples said “We have seen the Lord,” and you missed it. Luke called it “an idle tale.” John assigns that line to Thomas: “Until I see it like you guys did … it’s just an idle tale.” So next Sunday, Jesus appeared again, but “without opening the door” and offered to let Thomas touch his wounds.  But he never did.  He didn’t need to.  Jesus gave Thomas the benefit of the doubt.     Because there’s way more grace in God than sin in us. There’s seldom a “no” so definite that God will take it as final. Or a door so locked that Christ can’t pick it!  No heart so dead that God can’t awaken it.

            All the Thomases in this world could use the benefit of the doubt.  He’s scurrying all over this enlightened College Hill, looking for a place to belong. He’s the skeptic, searching for hypocrites, so they can be used to justify his own resistance to believe. Modern society has birthed decades of Thomases, looking for “wounded hands.” He’s in our families. In the next pew. And there’s even a little bit of Thomas in ourselves. He’s the kid who’s made to go to church and now never darkens the door. He’s the macho-man on the fringes of the faith, who expects to go to heaven but won’t set foot in a church — because he thinks religion is for women and wusses! But it’s the church that requires of us the strength to give not take.

            How on earth do we present the Gospel to those like him?  Do we debate him; bribe him; threaten him with hell; nag him about heaven or just leave him alone? I think it’s mighty fine of Jesus that he didn’t shame Thomas. He stood his ground and refused to take someone else’s word on something important. So Thomas speaks to those whose honest doubt is not a sin but a means of coming to terms with reality.  The church oughta be as open to those who ask good questions as it is to the know‑it‑alls who think they have all the answers. 

            People come to worship every week, because they want to believe, but some haven’t fared too well in the luck department, in need of help with their unbelief. And we’ve got to give them something to believe in. So, this is not just a story of absence and doubt. It’s the staggering truth that Jesus is still able to break through the locked chambers of our lives to give us the resolve to go on in spite of our doubts.

            After Easter Jesus went out of his way to reconnect with his disciples, to bring them a sense of “Peace,” replacing their anxiety with powerful pastoral gestures:  He “showed them his wounds.”  The nasty marks in his hands that hadn’t healed yet. These were the hands that pulled his friend Lazarus out of a tomb in Bethany; the hands that reached out to touch lepers; that blessed the bread and lifted the cup and were unjustly tethered to a cross. When he invited Thomas to touch the wound in his side, it was an intimate gesture, not unlike post‑surgical patients who proudly display their stitches. Only Jesus’ wasn’t from surgery! The most courageous man who ever lived was identified by his scars, not his muscles.

            They heard the women’s report about the empty tomb, but words weren’t enough to convince anyone. Hurting people need a touchable Jesus! Church is still at its best when it becomes our touchable Jesus. Maybe you’ve known that touch. Hopefully you’ve provided it. Where else are you gonna go in this depraved world, and somebody asks you to share your prayer concerns? This world won’t slow down a single minute for your pain! Least of all Washington. The cold shoulder is what we’re accustomed to from the world. Whooo Cay-uhs? The church cares. That’s why we stick with it. Every week people assemble in this old Meeting House to help us offer perhaps our greatest gift: making Jesus real.

            Then Jesus did something unusual but pastoral, he “breathed on them.”  This is John’s Pentecost.  The Fourth Gospel has none of the showy spiritual signs in The Book of Acts. No glossalalia, or tongues of fire dancing around. Nobody accused them of being drunk. Just scared. I’m not sure which is the worst. But it’s easy to get the biblical Easter confused with the cultural one. The gospels don’t say: “Christ arose, therefore you too will arise.” There’s plenty of that in the Pauline epistles. But there’s no gospel commercializing of the resurrection. That’s what society does. What the gospels say is: “Yeah, Christ arose … now go tell somebody!” The resurrection of Jesus is not about something to get, but something to do!  Our mission is to spread the good news, so that people won’t have to stay locked in a room with open doors.

             One other thing Jesus gave them to do:  to be quick to forgive. “For if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain their sins, they are retained” (John 20:21). Lord knows we need more of that! Quick to forgive! We’re quick all right! Quick to condemn. Quick to judge somebody. Quick to blame and deny. Easter gives us the opportunity to be blessers and forgivers! So Jesus thought it was worth a post-resurrection appearance to put himself out and make sure Thomas wasn’t left out. The Church sometimes leaves people feeling that way; for not knowing enough or believing enough, or believing differently.

            When Mike Wallace died last week, it reminded me how people get locked in by their ideas of hate, prejudice, vengeance. And the worst has to be those who think they’re so right, they never need to change. That’s why today’s leaders will say anything in order to appear consistent. Wallace built his reputation as a tough interrogator who exposed our inconsistencies. He’d confront some sacrificial lamb with “Sir, you once said…” Uh oh, “what’d I say?” I must not appear to flip-flop! But Wallace did his homework. Who can remember something they said years ago unless you dwell on it? And the victim squirms into all kinds of contortions, to spin whatever he said Wallace said he said, just so he can be right! Where does this fear of inconsistency come from? To win? To never be wrong? To always get your way? Why would we want to miss out on the unexpected benefits of making a mistake? That’s why I’m more attracted to those who are big-spirited enough to revise their position as life moves on. Who said once we got an idea about something, it had to be defended to the death?

           St. Thomas shows us that U turns are still permitted in the kingdom of God, if not the kingdom of man! Life demands them of us.  All I gotta say is, growth is acceptable with God. But pretending isn’t. That’s why I cotton to ol’ Thomas. He refused to doggedly hold onto a previously held conviction. When he was wrong, he admitted it. He made no alibis. He was big enough to change his mind.  Thus he still serves as the church’s best model for developing a durable faith that’s unafraid of honest doubts, a sustaining faith that seeks to serve and a bountiful faith that dares to believe the unbelievable. Whatever it takes to bring us to our knees — where we too can declare the greatest confession of faith in the scriptures: “My Lord and my God!”

 ProvidencePrayers: (5/15/12)

            O Christ, whose birth means nothing unless we’re born anew, whose life means nothing unless we live for God, whose death means nothing unless we die to self, and whose resurrection means nothing unless we live up to the best that’s within us. Breathe Thy Spirit into us in this worship that it may lead us to a stronger faith, evoke in us a spirit of peace, and open our eyes to something worse than dying, and that is the fear of it. We’re constantly aware of the many ways people try to be “spiritual but not religious.”  Let us be as gracious in forgiving the failings of our institutions as we are of ourselves.  We’re grateful for this hour to consider what the unexpected developments in our world have to offer us.  Instead of trying to avoid that which makes us feel lost, let us engage it as a spiritual discipline.

            Deep suffering makes theologians of us all.  May this church help us make sense of the senseless things that invade our lives. We come not looking for miracles but for mercy and strength to leave our hiding places behind.  Lucky ol’ Thomas got to touch the wounds of Jesus and came to believe. We look around and see many wounds that tempt us to disbelieve. It has made us experts at accusing and more interested in what we deserve, rather than who can we serve.  Believing doesn’t come easy for folks this far removed from Easter.  So we bless those “who have not seen and yet believe.”

            We thank Thee for springtime in Providence; for hills to climb, burdens to bear, temptations to resist and doubts to overcome, all signs of Thy presence in unlikely places, reminding us we’re not alone. Throughout this Easter Season, Lord grant us open minds and hearts as seed beds for a vibrant faith, that energizes us to do our part to fulfill these prayers.  We pray in the name of the risen Christ, who makes meaningful life possible and for our church which makes it hopeful.  Through Christ our Lord.

            On Friday, the Marys witnessed Jesus’ body laid in a sealed tomb, and guards stationed. After dawn on Sunday morning they return to mourn. Matthew reports that there were displays of cosmic power, including an earthquake, which heralds the arrival of an angel. The stone over the door of the tomb has marked death’s victory, but now the angel, whose appearance is like Jesus transfigured, rolls back the stone and sits on it, symbolizing Jesus’ triumph over death. The guards are spooked, but the angel assures the women “Do not be afraid.” Jesus has risen from the dead. They will see him again up in the Galilee. The women leave the tomb in a state of shock coupled with joy. When they “take hold of his feet,” it attests to his bodily resurrection. Jesus’ reference to the disciples as “brothers” indicates he has forgiven them for their desertion.

The Preacher Says:

            Matthew’s rendition of the resurrection includes Mother Nature acting out a bit. After an angel shows up, the ground quakes, the dead awake, and the Marys are commissioned to preach to the other disciples to look for Jesus up in the Galilee. Unusual words. But equally unusual is what’s not said. In none of the gospel accounts of the Resurrection is there a single mention of what it means for us. There was plenty of that last week. Palm Sunday is a human response. Easter is God’s. The parade was all about us; the hope of a reward for us; welcoming a messiah means we stand to get some goodies.  But on Easter there’s nothing in the gospels about “what’s in it for us.” There is no commentary on it. No “Now that Jesus is Risen…and so we shall be raised too.”  Not a word about how the resurrection impacts our life other than “Don’t be afraid.”

            Gosh, how could it be that Easter morning is not about us?  Because in the four gospel accounts of the resurrection ‑ how it happened, where it happened, and who was there when it happened; on that Morning of the first day of the week, it didn’t have anything to do with us, because Easter is strictly between God and Jesus! Easter is different from Christmas in that regard. No “guess‑who” came down the chimney during the night and ate all the cookies and left us all the presents. I don’t recall ever hearing a preacher preach on Jesus’ resurrection without saying what’s in it for us? It’s striking how the gospels don’t hesitate to rub against the grain of our society’s direction.  So you can’t merely turn Easter into one more way we can get stuff; even heavy stuff like forgiveness or eternal life. 

            Easter Sunday calls for strong words. But I don’t have any profound miracle stories to assure a single soul of life after death. Since there’s nothing in it for us, maybe the best we can do is just tell the truth. 2000 years ago today, sometime before daybreak, God raised from the dead, Jesus of Nazareth. Who likes to listen to announcements? This one though, is more of a supreme proclamation than a mundane announcement. Announcements aren’t easy to hear. Nobody pays attention to them.

            In Matthew’s Gospel he mentions something that gets our attention: an earthquake. But even that flew under the radar, because the next thing the disciples do is go back to something normal like fishing. Matthew, like Mark tells about the ladies running around all over the place when it finally hit them about what happened. They were so spooked they didn’t say anything about it to anybody. It’s as hard to tell as it is to hear! The first gospel closes with the disciples gathered with Jesus up in the Galilee on a mountain top, and there they worshiped him. But not all of them. Some of them doubted! How could they doubt?  Being a child of the resurrection doesn’t mean we have everything figured out. This announcement is dynamite! Hard to hear. Hard to tell. So whatever the nature of the resurrection, it didn’t generate perfect faith in those who experienced it firsthand. It is not to angels or perfect believers, but to the wavering/worshiping community of disciples to whom the story of Easter is entrusted.

            Luke says the disciples at first brushed it off like the Republicans, they’re anti-women. So goes the media narrative. “It’s just idle talk.” But Luke offers a more profound way of putting it: “They disbelieved for joy!” I’ve never yet figured out how anybody could do that. But it goes to show the difficulty in communicating the resurrection. All kinds of things are read into it. John tells the story of St. Thomas in the Upper Room. Jesus’ skeptical disciple. “I won’t believe it until I touch the wounds in his side or his hands and feet.” Being there didn’t make it any easier to hear.

            And I don’t claim to have any gimmicks to make it easy for ya’ll either. I have no proofs to offer, to guarantee life after death; so everybody can go home feeling cozy and secure. Even if it is Easter. I couldn’t if I wanted to cause there’s a cross in the background of this resurrection. So I’ll just tell the truth: They tried to nail him down on Friday, but he got loose on Sunday. There’s no way to shrink that by providing over-used explanations. We don’t explain the resurrection. It explains us. It can only be announced. Because nobody was there to see it. There’s a certain restraint; “while it was still dark.”

            I can tell you that for a whole lot of folks this announcement is very important. For too many it means nothing. But the older you get, the more important it becomes. For those who’ve lost their lifelong mates, or their best friends, it’s the most important thing in the world! In the Apocalypse St. John is on the Isle of Patmos on Sunday morning. Says he’s “in the Spirit.” He’s afraid for God’s church coming under attack from the Romans. But he knows they can’t win. God can send 10,000 angels and “wipe away every tear from their eyes.” No more sorrow. No more death. Jesus is on the loose! That’s what Easter meant to John.

            The same goes for the Apostle Paul. Boy did the resurrection energize him! He said “I die daily.” This guy’s amazing. Shipwrecked, beaten by the Romans, whipped in the synagogues; stoned and left for dead. We can only imagine the pain he endured; broken bones, cuts, bruises. “I die daily,” he said. He carried around in his badly abused body, the dying Jesus. We wake up daily and hope for a better tomorrow. But Paul died every day. Can you get with what that must be like? Maybe that’s why Easter meant so much to him. He prayed three times to God for healing and God said “my grace is enough.” Paul was disappointed that he got grace to endure instead of a cure. But that didn’t matter. What is “a thorn in the flesh” compared to the noble privilege of being one of the first to proclaim the Easter faith? What’s a little thing like death in an empty tomb? “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death where is your sting?” How often have those words blessed the grieving as they stand over an opened grave and watched their loved ones being lowered down into the dirt? Whew! It means a lot for Jesus to get loose.

            Not everyone has the beloved disciple’s faith, or the depth of Mary’s love. But all of us can find hope in ol’ Simon Peter.  For him it meant getting to start over. He denied the Lord in his most difficult moment. Did what he said he’d never do. He underestimated the power of evil and overestimated his ability to stand up to it; but when that “cockcrow” hit, Whew! He “went out and wept bitterly.” Only Mark singles out Peter to hear the announcement. “Go tell his disciples … and Peter” (16:7). Jesus had to track him down back up in the Galilee because he’s out “fishing all night and caught nothing.” Jesus wanted to know if Peter “loved him.”  Three times Peter denied and three times he professed his love for the Lord. Once for each denial. Each one was like pulling a wisdom tooth. Peter had to go through that humiliation if he’s gonna “feed Jesus’ sheep.” Easter meant a second chance for Peter. And this time around he didn’t blow it. I wish I could make it easier, but all I have is the story. The point of the gospel story though, is not just a resurrection from the dead, but Jesus’ from the dead.

            It’s interesting to see those for whom there was no announcement. Nothing for the big dogs — Alexander or Caesar. Nothing worth remembering about King Herod, who tried to whack him while he was still in the cradle! Certainly not Caiphas the priest who framed him; or Pilate, the wishy-washy procurator who screamed at the silent Jesus: “Don’t you know I have the power?  I have power over you to snuff out your life in an instant?” Jesus knew, but he never flinched. And he’s the one in chains! Easter can put steel in your spine like nothing else can do, for those who take it seriously.

            It’s not just in general, but very particular. The one raised from the grave was Jesus. I reckon an earthquake would be appropriate! This is earth-shattering news. God wants it preached in all the world that Jesus is the one being vindicated. The Best of the Breed. He’s what God had in mind when he created all ya’ll in his own image. Ask anybody who knew Jesus. Not one can say he ever raised a hand against them. Or speak ill of them or blame them. Or Lie to them. Nothing but the truth. Did he ever betray you? Disrespect you? Any takers? None. His epitaph was fairly simple: “He went about doing good.”

            After 2000 years of being on the loose, what’s sad is the majority of folks out there care more about last night’s party than today’s preaching. Like those two beggars stationed on a prominent street corner; each with a placard, and a tin cup. One of them had more in his cup than the other. One sign simply read: “I am blind.” The other one hopped out at you: “It’s springtime, and I am blind.” To miss out of Mother Nature’s glory? Seeing the leaves popping out and the grass turning green? To see no crocuses peeping through the soil? Oblivious to the colorful daffodils and tulips? No Easter lilies blaring the truth through their white trumpets? To be blind to the most wonderful news of all eternity – the resurrection Jesus?? Don’t let Easter be wasted on you.

 Providence Prayers: Easter Sunday, April 8, 2012

            O Lord, God of all creation and re-creation, who sees in us what others overlook.  And overlooks in us what others see, hear our prayer on this Easter day. The soul of the world is weary, in need of your grace. Its past is a burden on our shoulders, its present has set a stumbling‑block before our feet, its tomorrow is lost in a maze for which there is no map. We bless Thee for being a God of endless surprises–who chastens us when we give up, and encourages us when we expect to be admonished, who challenges us when we should be congratulated and praises us when we expect to be criticized.

            The spirit of our world is torn, in need of your care. Help us to see as you see. What is it that makes us want more than we have, even when we know more is too much? Show us that a neighbor is not defined by one’s circumstances, but by one’s humanity. And that peace is not just the absence of violence, but the presence of justice. Remind us that the world is not ours to conquer, but Thine to tend.

            The heart of our world is indifferent, in need of something to believe in. Its eyes turn away from suffering, its ears won’t listen to the abuse; its lips prefer spin to the truth. No wonder we seem dead and listless. Stir us awake! Sometimes we feel alone and hopeless. Remind us of the “third Day.” 

            The mind of our world is confused, in need of Thy clarity. Calling bad good, and wrong right. “Grant us wisdom for the living of these days.” If our motives are not honorable; if our aspirations are selfish; lend us Thy counsel for direction.

            Be our strength in times of disappointment, our healing in times of illness, our salvation in all times. Provide us with the resources to “run with patience the race set before us.” And for the knowledge that “neither death nor life, things present or to come, or anything else with the whole creation can separate us from Thy love,” we off ouir praise and thanksgiving. We came to this old Meeting House today in hopes of a renewed faith, so we might leave with joy and purpose, Through Christ our Lord…

This Sunday is pivotal in Christendom.  The text is Matthew’s story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Excitement and raised expectations are in the air.  Palm branches are on the road.  “Hosannas” are heard.  People are waiting for a messiah.  But as it turned out, Jesus was not the one they wanted. He rides a beast of burden, not a white stallion of war. Both celebration and suffering converge on this day when Jesus entered Jerusalem and set his sights on the crucial week ahead. 

Hear the sermon

 The Preacher Says:

            Palm Sunday begins the week we call holy, at whose center stands a cross; and at whose end is Easter.  It’s the day a good man descended into greatness. And it’s not the suffering that makes it holy, but the love that prompted the suffering. I find it striking that the motivation underlying the need for the “celebration of Palms” is a colossal misunderstanding of who Jesus was and why he was there.  But the same impulses are still with us after 2000 years.  We live in a culture nurtured by an avaricious media that conducts an up‑to‑the‑minute feeding frenzy on every horror imaginable. The latest being the senseless shooting of a young man in Florida, that contributed to a cry of outrage in an effort to bring the perpetrator to justice. It’s not a black/white thing, but a right/wrong thing. That’s why we have laws:  “a person is innocent till proven guilty.”

            However if you can stir up a mob of protesters you can short-cut the law. The ends justify the means if you’re convinced that the suspect is “guilty till proven innocent.” This was the same approach Jesus’ opponents took with him. Caiaphas already had his verdict, then came the trial!  While some media markets are making hay over the simplified narrative that fits a familiar agenda, it seems wise to me for some restraint on this tragedy, till the justice system can work. That’s why we have fair trials. O. J. Simpson got one. So should Mr. Zimmerman.  I don’t know enough to say one way or another, except there are two sides to a tragedy that didn’t have to happen, but did. The reactionary mentality and the predictable call for violence is troubling.  But what stands out to me is the role that a reward plays in getting what you want. A $10,000 bounty has been offered by one group to get the shooter captured. Along with a threat that he should “fear for his life.”

            Offering a reward to get your way is very effective because it gets results. It’s been going on a long time. A significant part of the Passion narrative involved a hefty sum of 30 shekels to nab Jesus.  In today’s coinage, it would be about $5000.  The Temple authorities bribed Judas by dangling “the price of a slave,” if he’d reveal where Jesus was. When there’s something to gain from somebody else’s pain, that’s the lowest of the low.  But the obvious appeal of getting a reward, other than believing somebody’s lies, is the most powerful motivator there is.  It brings out the worst in people, including even betraying our best friend.

            In the old days they posted pictures of outlaws on jailhouse walls. Today its on the TV screen and the Internet. Like anything complex it has a good side. It’s why people fish. Fishing is a perpetual exercise in hope. A fisherman uses lures as bait to hook something of value.  I need not remind you that several of Jesus’ disciples were fishermen.  Judas Iscariot and Simon were zealots. Matthew was a tax collector. But Simon Peter, the Zebedees, and James and John, who jockeyed for a seat at the Right Hand of God in glory, as their reward for following Jesus  — they were innately vulnerable to the enticement of reward.

            Jesus himself was tempted by the Devil with a pay-off. In the wilderness he was offered a reward: to be “worshiped as ruler over the whole world.”  But he saw through the temptation and showed proper restraint. Because he had a small ego and a big self, he became “servant of all.”  But enslavement is not much of an enticement. That makes Jesus hard to understand. One of life’s most difficult challenges is to stick with something, when we don’t understand it.

            Parents ask me when it’s OK for their kids to take communion? They’re too young to understand, so withhold it till they’re older. Yeah right! Who can make sense of how somebody dying 2000 years ago has anything to do with me today? Even Jesus’ disciples were clueless at the Passover. They completely misunderstood Jesus’ emphasis on servant hood and began to fight over “which one was the greatest?” The Lord’s Supper isn’t about age, or whether we understand it. It’s about willingness.   Jesus said “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.” That’s good enough for me.  If we waited till we understood everything that life bowls down our alleys before we acted, nobody would get anything done.

            I don’t understand our policy makers, but I pay my taxes. Church sometimes leaves me shaking my head … but I stick with it. I sure don’t understand my good wife, but bless her heart, she may not understand me either!  When I say (tongue-in-cheek) “If I was God I could beat this!” It’s just another way of saying “Who can understand the ways of God?”  Even Jesus struggled with this in Gethsemane. Committing without understanding applies in politics, religion, our corporate and personal endeavors. Couples who decide to get married have to go through this. But that doesn’t stop them.  Ah to learn the art of loving completely without understanding completely.  That’s why we come to church.

            And it’s the disciple’s challenge in our scripture this morning. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem is an occasion for a parade, in celebration of the people’s hopes, that Jesus would assume the royalty required to give them what they want:  an easy life, a simple faith, a clear journey.  Most of all they wanted to see evidence of God’s favor on their nation ‑ an unwise combination of church and state.

            Palm Sunday is a day of stark contrasts: excitement and disappointment; joy and sorrow; affirmation and betrayal.  Is it any wonder nobody understood what was happening?  The King’s on a donkey not a stallion, and palms are laid in his path.  They’re shouting Hosannas and the King weeps because he knows his throne is a cross. For him it’s not a parade but a funeral procession. The evangelists make it clear that the disciples didn’t get it. But at least they were there, for the time being anyhow.  Sometimes loyalty pulls rank over understanding.  And times come to all of us when we have to do something that we can’t say why we’re doing it. If you haven’t faced this, you haven’t lived long enough.

            Palm Sunday raises the issue of our motivation for serving God.  I feel for people who have to know too much; that they insist on understanding before they act.  Some call the alternative “blind faith.”  And I reckon there’s a bit of “Missouri” in everyone. It would be great if we could see everything before we believe it. Jesus’ most famous Missourian, was Thomas, the doubter.  Before him Jeremiah the prophet refers to God as Tempter.  “O Lord you have enticed me; or seduced me, and you have prevailed.” Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, had the misfortune of being called to preach bad news in the pre-exilic times inIsrael. No one was receptive to his message of doom because the people weren’t listening. Jeremiah’s disappointment in God was the result of his unrealistic expectations. Killers of the human spirit. What did he expect of God? Why did he feel tricked by God? Did he think he could do a better job than God?

            The people most susceptible to falling to the most powerful seduction on earth, are those innocent, idealistic, souls with a grievance — like the Palm Sunday bunch; who ignore all the warning signals, seeing only what they want to see, when reality messes up their agenda, blinded by their hopes.  When the seducer dangles something glitzy in front of you and you bite; the hidden hook isn’t always something you’re hungry for. People get hooked on drugs, notoriety, money, violence and power.  But the most common temptation is the powerful lure – of reward.  It’s the theological assumption that if you’re faithful to God, say your prayers, pay your pledge, and behave most of the time … then you rewarded with God’s protection, and deliverance, and being right.  It is the underlying motive for Palm Sunday and why a lot of folks still go to church asking: “What do I get out of this? What’s in it for me?” Would we still serve God if we knew there was no heaven? The enticement of reward. Powerful stuff!  You hear it all the time. Whenever somebody poses the well-worn dilemma: “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Where’d we get the idea that those who love God will live on Easy Street? Who said believing the gospel gets us what we want? Or maybe we misread St. Paul in Romans: “To those who love God, all things work together for good.” Not “all things will go our way!”

            When we lived in Indiana during seminary days, the parsonage had a big yard and the church provided us with a Wheel Horse riding lawnmower, but it kept breaking down. So one of our deacons kindly volunteered to use his mower to cut the grass on Saturday afternoon.  But there are no guarantees, even with church work, and wouldn’t you know, danged if his lawnmower didn’t blow an engine! He was quite upset and said, “Why did this happen to me?  I’m doing God’s work!”  Maybe if he was God, he could beat that! Everybody likes to be appreciated.  Like Jeremiah, we’re enticed by the thought that doing God’s work will show others how special we are.  It’s a seductive but fictitious idea.  So say the scriptures. The Bible allows as how there is a reward for doing God’s work. And the only reward for doing God’s work is … doing God’s work. Period.  Furthermore if we’re really good at working for God, it’s likely to get you killed! That’s what success looks like in the upside-down kingdom of God; if Jesus or John the Baptist or St. Paul is our model. And I don’t know anybody who likes it.  Least of all, Teresa of Avila, one of the ancient saints. After she had a difficult day, is said to have said, while shaking her fist up at God: “It’s no wonder you have so few friends, if this is how you treat ‘em!”

            It’s Palm Sunday all over Christendom. Today you can walk into any church in the world and hear the story of how God treated his Best Friend; whose reward for perfect obedience was crucifixion! And yet crowds still throng to worship him.  With a cruciform Christ, where’d we get the idea that faith entitles us to benefits or protection or wealth?  Who said the gospel “works?” It seems to me that we’ve either been seduced or else we’ve glimpsed something in Jesus that eclipses all our self-seeking fantasies.

            I hate to ruin ya’ll’s Palm Sunday. But all I gotta say is: there neither was nor is a pay-off for doing the work of God. Other than the doing of it.“If you DID IT to the least of these my brothers and sisters, you DID IT to me.” “The one who hears these sayings and DOES THEM is like the man who built his house on the rock.” “DO unto others as you would have them DO unto you.”  Our only reward for doing the work of God is in DOING IT. That and the staggering self-annihilating love of God … who raises us from the dead!  Sounds to me like you could lose your life that way!  Then again, you just might find it.

 ProvidencePrayers:  Palm Sunday (4/1/12) 

            Loving God, in whom the heart’s deepest fears are assuaged and the furrowed brow soothed, hear our prayers for all whose darkest night still lies before them.  Hold tenderly in Thy arms all who are weary or discouraged.  Restore us as surely as Christ rose from the tomb into the light on Easter morn.  On our pilgrimage from Ash Wednesday to Palm Sunday, nothing can prepare us for the arrival of Jesus into Jerusalem facing the end of his pilgrimage. Even though we know how it ends. Crowds still show up in church troubled by tomorrow’s emptiness as well as yesterday’s sins.  Deliver us from all our temptations and may this day’s “hosannas” save us from tomorrow’s self interest. With Good Friday looming, how can we possibly imagine Easter?

             We confess how quickly we rally around those whose fervent prayer is “Give me success;” but how soon we desert the suffering whose prayer is “Not my will but thine be done.”  Lent is a time for asking tough questions: at what point does our insistence on the superiority of Christianity make us less Christian?  Do we come to worship a God with power to transform us, or is it because we like to enjoy the rewards of the advantages that we think our faith owes us?  Show us O God, that there’s more to worship than just showing up. Forgive us for preferring our own system for getting hold of God, to a God that’s way beyond our grasp.  Enable us to be less condemning of others for understanding God in a different way.

            Blessed Jesus, ride into our city today, into the broken places, into hearts broken and afraid. Teach us what it means to die to self, that the unfathomable purposes of God may break through in some unforeseeable sunrise.  Remembering Thy suffering and with the confident trust in the hope of the 3rd day, we pray the prayer given to the disciples of all generations…Our Father…

The Text Says:

  The Garden of Gethsemane frames our text for today’s worship. There Jesus prayed selflessly while one had already gone to sell him out to his opponents and three disciples slept. Jesus experienced deep anguish and loneliness at their failed loyalty. “My soul is sorrowful.” He wanted them to “watch and pray,” but while they slept, he was left alone to pray, “Nevertheless, not as I will, but thy will be done.” If we were granted only one prayer to pray, could we do any better than that?

 The Preacher Says:

            The synoptic story of Jesus praying in the garden is a critical point in the gospel narrative. Because there it became obvious once and for all, that he’s not going to fight. Thus pulling the rug out from under those assuming that Jesus was in town to marshall his forces and lead an uprising to overthrow the Roman occupiers. Simon Peter defended him by whacking off a soldier’s ear. But Jesus put the ear back where it was and rebuked his bombastic disciple. “Put the sword back in the scabbard.” That would’ve been a prime time to fight! He was able.  Matthew leaves no doubt about that he could have won big in a wipe-out. “Don’t ya’ll know I can requisition twelve legions of angels from my Father and they would fight for me?”

            So should we do all we’re able to do, just because we can? Jesus didn’t. Gethsemane was the ideal opportunity to stand up for himself. Everyone else was primed. Rebellion was in the air. It’s now or never. With Jesus, now never came. When they nailed him to the tree – was another time to fight back. All the cruel taunting: “Others he would save. Himself he would not save.” Truer words were never spoken; and by his enemies at that. But no, he couldn’t come down … and save us too.

           What’s it going to take? Defend yourself. Dial up the heavenly army! 10,000 of those dudes? If it had been me, I would’ve called ‘em! But Jesus didn’t, because he was more interested in saving us than himself. “Greater love hath no man than he lays down his life for his friends.” But even on the cross, Jesus wouldn’t fight back. 10,000? Any way you cut it, that’s a lot of angels. Professor Craddock points out that of the four evangelists, Matthew likes to call Jesus “the King.” Matthew’s Jesus is a powerful potentate. He could do anything. But he doesn’t. There’s that Old Testament text that reads: “In the spring of the year, when kings go forth to war.” But Jesus is a king who won’t fight. Matthew can’t seem to say that enough. 

           Everyone was expecting a messiah/king to deliver them from oppression. John the fore-runner, who many thought was the Messiah got jailed because he’s looking for a Messiah-King with a backbone. And Jesus had a stern spine but it wasn’t a crowbar! They wanted a crowbar. Finally he goes up to Jerusalem to meet the fate that awaits him there. He would teach when the sun was up, because he was so popular with the crowds in town for the festival. But at sundown Jesus got outa Dodge, and spent the night with his buddies in Bethany; where there’s a garden nearby, called Gethsemane — the place of the “wine-press.” Like the other places where Jesus retreated, it was isolated. Only he and a few others know about it. But one of them spilled the beans on Jesus! He told the authorities where Jesus was. Not out of malice or money, but to force Jesus to fight.

            Now Judas comes off on a level with the devil in John’s Gospel. And I think he’s treated unfairly. As the church looks back on the climax of Jesus’ life, John’s church cast a dark shadow over Judas. But Judas, like the others, was frustrated with Jesus refusing to fight. The time was ripe for revolution. The zealots were restless. Everyone assumed Jesus came to Jerusalemto begin the insurrection against Caesar. That’s what they expected. What good is a Messiah who won’t fight?

            So Judas thought if he could just get them together, Jesus would finally begin the fight for freedom that everyone longed for, for so long. Everybody went along with it … except Jesus. And when Judas saw that Jesus wouldn’t fight, he was so devastated, that he tossed his ill-gotten, 30 pieces of silver into the Potter’s Field and hung himself!

            It was in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus was rudely arrested, and taken to a trumped-up trial. Now’s the time to fight back! Stand up against the injustice. Do something for God’s sake! Jesus had at his disposal twelve legions of angels armed with the swords of the Lord! If Jesus called them, they would’ve come to bail him out. “Ya’ll wanta fight? OK bring it on.” And there stands 10,000 angels behind him! This time I brought my Daddy with me! Now who’s backing down? Why on earth was Jesus so stubbornly non-violent? Why did he hold back when he could’ve won?

            It reminds me of Ahmad Bradshaw, the running back for the Giants in this year’s Super Bowl. With the clock running down, he took a handoff inside the five yard line and headed for the goal line with a head of steam. Suddenly he realized the Patriots were intentionally allowing him to score. And he tried not to score! But his momentum carried him right up next to the goal line and he twisted in butt first! Because he couldn’t stop he ended up backing into the end zone! Has anybody ever seen athlete trying not to score in the Super Bowl? But here’s this half-back who pulled back! It was almost comical.

            Why did Jesus bridle himself? From the very beginning, it has been characteristic of God. He kicked the first pair out of the garden of Eden and then felt for them. They were pitiful, girding themselves with fig leaves. So God became a Seamstress and sewed clothes for them out of animal skins. But instead of creation getting better, it got worse and God lost it. Cain killed his brother Abel and it was downhill from there. God said “it was good.” Then he’s sorry he created the universe and repented of it! He’s glad and then sad! So God decided that his creation needed a bath! And it started to rain and it didn’t quit for 40 days. And the earth was flooded and only those on the ark were spared. You wonder why God didn’t just get rid of all of them. Noah pitched a drunk after the water subsided! Why can’t God do it? He gets close, right up to the edge. Then pulls back. 

            Later on we see it with one of his reluctant prophets. God was angry again, this time it was the wicked city ofNineveh. But Jonah had no restraint when it came to Gentiles. God wanted him to preach to them and tell them they have 40 days or the place is gone! Then in 40 days, after the entire city repented, so did God! “Maybe I was wrong about Nineveh.” And once again changed his mind. What’s with this God of ours, who can’t follow through with his impulses to destroy us?  Like Father like Son? Once Jesus went through Samaria and wasn’t treated hospitably. When he and his disciples were refused lodging, food and hospitality, James and John knew what to do. Let us handle it! They had no restraints. “We’ll call lightning from heaven down and raze this town to the ground!” And Jesus says, “Nah let’s just go someplace else.” Such forbearance! It’s not normal.

            When is he going to stand up and fight? Enough’s enough! He could have. But he didn’t. Matthew closes his Gospel with Jesus up on a mountain in the Galilee: “All power is given unto me.” Think about that. The King, with all power! People will kill to have it. And Jesus had it. And he wasted his power to love! Is Jesus a wuss? Nope. The farthest thing from it. Jesus had the character of God ensconced so deep in his soul, he taught us that God is not just power. But also the restraint of power. There’s something to be said for that. Why does God handcuff himself? The Fourth Gospel tells us that God didn’t send his son into the world to “condemn it.” That would’ve been too easy. In the garden Jesus drank the cup and flat-out refused a bail-out after he said “nevertheless.” Just a little restraint would do; so that “the world through him might be saved.”  “For God so loved the world…” This too is God.

            Our history as Americans and as Baptists screams of this. We in Providence ought to be familiar with it. The Framers wisely built it into the Constitution. When our country was young and the paint on this old building smelled fresh. We’d just won a war against the greatest power in the world. We had power. But what we needed was restraint. That’s why we don’t a king in America. What we have is three equal branches of government: the executive, judicial, and legislative divisions – checks and balances. Why can a President serve only two terms? Political Restraint. Why is the church separate from the state? Religious Restraint. Roger Williams knew. It’s not the power that makes us exceptional. It’s the restraint of power. This is who God is! And it’s the mark of an exceptional nation.

            It’s also the mark of a civilized human being. Last Sunday, coming home from church, we passed by a man putting out the trash. His little doggie got too close to the curb and he hit the dog! And that mistreatment didn’t sit well with either of us. Ah he can do it. Of course he can do it! He’s bigger than the dog. And my Libby said, “He should put the dog on a leash. Then he wouldn’t have to beat it.” Show a little restraint.

            When I got caught misbehaving as a kid, my Mom would threaten me with my Dad. “Just wait’ll your Daddy gets home! You’re gonna get a whipping!” Oh I dreaded 4:00. I sweated through every hour. Finally I heard the door slam and I knew I was in for it. Sure enough my Mom told Dad what I did and said “take him in the bed room and whip him.”  Here we go. I felt like a “dead boy walking!” Dad was pulling off his belt all the way. He shut the door behind us and I started wailing! But I was in for a big surprise! I escaped the belt, because it was apparent that he didn’t like mom making him to be the heavy! Instead he winked at me and whispered, “Now you yell while I whack this mattress!” And I was crying and laughing at the same time! Restraint can do that to us. Even to God!

ProvidencePrayers: 3/25/12

            Grant us in this time of worship, O God, an eye for beauty, an ear for truth, and a heart that hungers after Thee. We thank Thee for being so easy to find ‑‑ wherever there is love. Always with a pocket‑full of mercies: a heart without boundaries, happiness that makes us content, trials that make us strong, sorrow that makes us human, and mistakes that keep us humble. Grant us the courage to be possessed by something worth serving. As we struggle for ways to keep our footing in a slippery time, we pray for insight in dealing with mankind’s greatest problem: trying “to gain the world but not lose our souls.” Forgive us for thinking we can get away with it and have both at once.

            As we move through the ever darkening Season of Lent, that ends with Jesus on a cross, we’re reminded how it can be dangerous to rub the seat of power the wrong way. We are naturally attracted to those who agree with us; who hold to the same outlook; or share our world view. Jesus advocated for sharp minds and tender hearts to combat soft-mindedness and hard-heartedness.  So may this worship open our minds, melt our hearts, and consume our pride, that we may perceive the difference between what is good and what is best; what is reality and what is illusionary and how we should best spend whatever time we have left.

            We dedicate this hour as a blessing to Thee O God. We will sing it, like the Psalmist; and preach it, like the Prophet; and pray it, like Jesus in the Garden: “If there be any other way … nevertheless … not my will, but thine be done,” Help us to balance the tension between serving and strengthening as masterfully as he did. And thereby keep faith, in a world worth saving, with a dream worth sharing, and a heritage worth preserving, through Christ our Lord…

The Text Says:

            Only the Gospel of John tells the story of the Greeks looking for Jesus, who was in Jerusalem at the temple. It is one of the great moments of the gospel narrative because it gives us one of the first hints that the Good News is intended for the whole world. We may wonder what it was about Jesus that made outsiders seek him out. Philip and Andrew knew Jesus would never turn anyone away who was truly seeking him.

The Preacher Says:

            Our text begins with an irreverent Jesus starting a stampede in the church! By so doing he besmirched his society’s most sacred spot. So we wonder, “What was his point?”  Listen to the One who made it: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people of all nations…but you have made it a den of thieves.” This is important because it tells us what Jesus expects a house of God to be like.

            There are to be no walls. There’s something comforting to us about a wall.  It protects us from what’s on the other side.  But in God’s eyes, there’s no place for walls in our houses of worship. And especially when their purpose is to let some in and keep others out. So Jesus “cleansed the temple” because it had lots of walls. There was an outer court for gentiles. Next is the women’s place; they put them with the lepers. Another closer court for Jewish men, and the nearest court for Priests. Only the High Priest once a year could enter the inner sanctum — the “holy of holies.”

            That sets the stage for today’s story in the Gospel of John.  Some non-Jews were in Jerusalem for Passover. They heard about Jesus and wanted to meet him. So they engage in a little first-century social networking with Philip, the disciple with the Greek name. They were respectful: “Sir, we want to see Jesus.” They weren’t interested in hearing Jesus. They wanted to see him, in today’s over-used faddish sense: “Y’know what I’m sayin’?”  They wanted to see Jesus not Caiphas; though he had lots more clout. Who cay-ahs about Pilate or Herod or Caesar? All these noteworthy heavy-hitters.   But they came asking to see Jesus.

            Why him and not them? John doesn’t bother to explain why, leaving it to inference. And Philip is hesitant; wary of drop-ins who wanta see the “pastor.” Maybe they needed cash to get to Tiberias! So he checks it out with Andrew. And they decided to taket it to Jesus. “Master, some Greeks are anxious to see you.  No appointment. Not our kind. But appear to be good guys here for the feast.  “What do we tell ‘em?”

            And the weirdest thing happens. John the evangelist, loses interest.  Instead he turns to something else — another heavy speech of Jesus,’ about how it’s better to die than to live.  End of story. But before we leave it entirely, I’m struck about the attractive methodology Jesus used to share his faith. It stands in contrast to the most common but least effective way in our time: a telling witness. When it’s standardized it comes off as contrived that embarrasses as much as it redeems.

            Ever since Matthew’s Gospel ended with “Go ye therefore and teach all nations,” the church’s mandate is to share the Good News with as many as we can, in the best way we can. American Baptists have missions all over the world doing just that in ways that make God smile. Genuine evangelism is winsome, attractive, and best of all, modeled after Jesus of Nazareth.

            Of primary importance is it’s for all people.  God’s house must always be “a house of prayer for all nations,” where no one is excluded, including Gentiles. This flew in the face of Judaism’s “special interest” group, which was for Jewish men only. So Jesus expanded the boundaries of centuries of the way Judaism had operated. He stood for equality in a time of enormous inequality. Like Paul later wrote in Galatians 3:28, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus.”

            Correcting an injustice in the house of God lay behind Jesus’ symbolic enacted parable. He took a courageous stand for outsiders; made a scene, pitched a fit in church — taking up for those who were kept at a distance because of the way they were born.  Jesus thought it was important that ethics, ministry, and evangelism are all tied together.  Leaving one out leads to distortion. So it’s not hard to see why the Greeks wanted to see Jesus. He didn’t just “tell it like it is,” but he acted boldly and symbolically and it evoked an asking witness. Because he did something for those lowest on the totem pole of society, they came inquiring about him. That’s when you have ‘em where you want ‘em. Because then they’ll listen to you to tell them why you did what you did.

            John implies the Greeks wanted to see Jesus because he created a religious ruckus: Here was a Jew among Jews, sticking his neck out for Gentiles!  Nobody does stuff like that because it can get you killed!  And it didn’t just get the outsiders’ attention, but you better believe the authorities took notice! According to Mark, that defiant act led directly to the cross. “My father’s house is to be a place of prayer for all people!”  Not just some. All. That was quite unusual.  There were plenty of people telling them things. The Romans ordered them around. The priests referred them to the temple rules that said they’re to be segregated from Jewish males. They were in the same place as the women! 

            But this is the kind of daring that causes folks to listen when you talk. I don’t know anybody who wants to listen to something they don’t want to hear. So a lot of our evangelism falls on deaf ears.  It could be because we don’t have many actions like Jesus’ to precede our words. Jesus did something whereby he had everything to lose and nothing to gain ‑‑ going to bat for somebody who didn’t count. And it naturally aroused curiosity and anger. Jesus didn’t need to conduct revivals. Or set up a system to organize mass evangelism.  There was no plea for cash.  He just loved somebody that nobody else cared about.  I’d call that good news, wouldn’t you? Caring first and talking last, if at all lends an authenticity to your story when the time comes to tell it.

            I’m proud that our church is a place where the banished can come to see Jesus! We have ministries that might parallel Jesus’ method.  Crossroads, Steere House, PICA, the sandwich brigade, to name a few. There’s the sign on the corner “We reserve the right to accept everybody.” People off the street come to inquire about that. It offers an excellent opportunity to share what I believe is one of our church’s strengths.  First Baptist Church at its best is a modernized version of this scene of Jesus at the temple.  People still come here who want to see Jesus!

            Throughout the Fourth Gospel, Jesus relates to people like these Greeks John describes.  The woman at the well encountered Jesus who was gracious to her when most folks shunned her, and what happens?  She asked him, “Where can I get this living water?” Nicodemus came to Jesus by night, “for fear of the Jews,” and Jesus listened to his concerns and he asked him, “How can I be born again when I’m old?”  Jesus was out healing the sick, preaching the gospel to the poor and John the Baptist asked him, “Are you the one, or should we look for somebody else?”

            In the Book of Acts, Paul and Silas were singing hymns in jail at midnight and suddenly an earthquake set them free!  All the prisoners got loose and they were about to split, but the two preachers stayed put, because they knew the law that if a prisoner escaped, the jailer must die. So they gave up their freedom to save this jailer’s life! How often does that happen? Just before the guard was fixin’ to fall on his sword Paul stopped him. “Do yourself no harm, for we’re still here!”  The doors were open when he said it.  To which the pagan Philippian jailer asked Paul and Silas, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”  Then they told him.

            Like her Lord before them, the early church put the visible before the verbal. And folks couldn’t get enough of seeing Jesus! They acted, they accepted, they ministered, they cared ‑‑ and their unusual behavior caused a natural interest; and when asked, they pointed people to God. They embodied the old gospel song I grew up with “Let Others See Jesus in You.” Keep telling the story, be faithful and true. Let others see Jesus in you.” When have we done something unusually caring lately, that would cause somebody to ask of us:  “Sirs, we want to see Jesus?” 

            John allows as how he’s been inviting folks to “come and see” from the very beginning (1:39).  Seeing is believing in this Gospel, so when the Greeks come searching for Jesus, they’re desire to believe is assumed. This is a critical point in the gospel, because from here on, it is no longer enough to see Jesus. From this “hour” forward all seekers are invited to come and be with Jesus.  Big difference! Being with Jesus is more complicated than seeing him. And dangerous. Everybody wants to see Jesus, until they realize what it costs to see Jesus. Oh yeah, seeing Jesus is costly.

            John couches it in hidden code-words of the cross: “If a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies…this he said to show what death he must die.” V. 24 and V. 32 “If I be lifted up, I will draw all people unto myself.”  For Jesus and his followers, death is a doorway not a dead end. That’s why we want to see Jesus and why he has brought us to his “hour.” Jesus believed death precedes life. Not life precedes death as we see it. Our world goes to great lengths to disillusion us in that regard. The world says fending off death will save us. But Jesus says it will destroy us.

            Embracing our finiteness doesn’t seem to be the pathway to infinity. But St. Francis knew it long ago:  “It is in giving that we receive; it is in dying that we are born again.” That’s how “Ground Zero” becomes holy ground; the place where “grains of wheat come to life!” “When it … falls to the earth and dies, it surrenders to new life and bears much fruit.”  It’s so hard to surrender anything.  The agonizing process of letting go is familiar to us all.  

            So the “hour” comes for Somebody to be “glorified.” If Jesus had not died, we wouldn’t be here.  Because he did, we are.  After he cleansed the temple he faced two choices: the way of self‑offering or the way of self‑saving; the way of life or the way of death.  Like him, this is a choice from which none of us may abstain.  When our “hour” comes, each of us has one grain of wheat with which to cast our votes: will we save it or lose it?  It is the grain of life, and all creation is holding its breath to see what we’ll do with it.

            “His hour;” “If a grain of wheat falls to the earth;” and “If I be lifted up,” the three brief code-words Jesus uses to describe his death in the Gospel of John. It’s there for a purpose: to remind us that seeing Jesus can be very costly. It can cost you your life, as it is now. Do you still wanta see Jesus?

 ProvidencePrayers: 3/18/12

            Like the Greeks who came seeking Jesus Lord, people still want to see him, but not his church; the vast preponderance of souls who prefer to be spiritual but not religious; who love God but detest organized religion. It’s understandable once we consider what it costs to see Jesus. Jesus paid it all. But there’s a price for us too, if we’re more interested in following him than seeing him. When faith costs something more than a Sunday morning pleasantry. 

            We pray for those whose attempts at making this a better world often turn out to be worse than if they had done nothing at all. We acknowledge our preference for quick and easy answers to difficult questions. Forgive our lust for instant everything ‑ breaking news, instant credit, instant resolution to the complex issues facing our world. Hold to their high aspirations, those who strive to play a part in your larger purposes, despite the pressures of apathy and antagonism they inevitably encounter.

            “Renew the strength and mount up with eagles’ wings,” for all who work long and sleep little, who at least try to be responsible ‑‑ lifters not leaners. May this worship enable us to examine Thy ways ‑ who’s never in a hurry, yet never late.  Bless us with that kind of poise; to live with the abandon of a child, and the focus of a surgeon.

            We pray for our church as we try to be faithful to its unique calling; our openness to all. Bless us individually and corporately according to our several needs. Vitalize our worship. Energize our hearts. Inspire our souls. For the sick, we ask Thy healing touch. For the lonely, companionship. For the undecided, wisdom. For the bereaved, encouragement. We offer these prayers in faith and with thanksgiving, through Christ our Lord…

The Text Says:

Today’s Lenten text is a story told by Jesus about two houses, one built by a foolish man on sand and the other by a wise man on solid rock. Jesus’ metaphor is apt: human character is like a house. Taking shortcuts can be hazardous. The floods come and the house built on the sand will not stand. Matthew thinks Jesus is the Architect: “Whosoever hears these sayings of mine and does them.” Neither houses nor human character can withstand the whirlwinds of life without the vertical line to God. Jesus lays the foundation, he is the Rock. He is also the Builder. The fate of those who choose to build a life on surface values is “Great is the fall of it.” But those who “hear and do” what Jesus said, their house stands. 

 The Preacher Says:

            Which is more powerful, what life brings to us? Or what we bring to life? This is what differentiates between people. St. Paul might have had that in mind when he wrote: “We know that for those who love God, all things work together for good.” But leave off the first part and what’s left is preposterous. Everybody knows all things don’t work for good. Then there’s that part about “those who love God.” So that in any given circumstance, if we bring a vigorous interior attitude to meet it, we will get the corresponding results. Do ya’ll realize the power of that? What happens to us from without can blow us up. But the outcome depends on what is in us to explode. That makes what’s on the inside more crucial. Thus the need to be involved in the church where we cultivate the deep-seated strengths of soul and spirit.

            This is not a new revelation. 2000 years ago a Christian missionary knew that if anything “works for good” in anybody’s life, it’s because they had the faith to make it so. What makes life worth living? Having wealth? Getting high? Being successful? Making a difference? All of the above? Nobody finds life worth living. It has to be made so.

            In 1984 I was called to be pastor a racially inclusive Baptist church in Birmingham, AL. We moved from our home of ten years in Maryland.  Now anybody knows that politically, religiously, and educationally (the opposite way), the District of Columbiais a different animal from the Heart of Dixie. My buddies were worried about me making the adjustment. About a month after I moved I got a call from one of my friends, who wanted to know if the move was “worth it.” I remember saying, “I’m making it worth it.”  And that’s what we’ve done wherever we’ve moved.

            A consequential life doesn’t just pop out of the blue.  Usually there’s some luck, but any lasting progress in life comes from free initiative. How can anybody deal with the challenges they face unless they’re free to do something about them? Or else become a victim and expect somebody to bail us out. This is where St. Paul shines. Nobody bailed him out! He once begged God to do so, but God thought “his grace was sufficient.” How ‘bout that for a payoff? Few have faced more hardship than this Apostle. He was always getting thrown in jail. But he didn’t just “do time,” he made good use of it. That’s where he scribed what later became part of our Bible.

            Listen to this man: “I would have you to know that what happened to me has been for the greater progress of the gospel.” (Phil. 1:12) Whew! Not a hint of bitterness or exploitation. Not a word of protest about unfairness. Nothing about somebody owes me something for nothing. Lock him up in jail and he writes letters that became the most widely read literature in holy writ! How did he do that? What an indomitable spirit! Worshiped as a god; stoned as a felon, ship-wrecked thrice; loved as a brother; hated as a heretic; imprisoned as a miscreant. Few men in history, other than Jesus himself, have by a life of hardship, earned the right as he had to be listened to.

            And yet this guy, who laid the foundation for churches across the Empire believed, “All things work together for good.” There was something on the inside of this preacher that allowed him to be like that. I wish everybody had it. All this external stuff he brushed aside, because of the secret on the inside.  What life did to him depended upon what life found in him. Put a barrel over him and he’d come out preaching through the bung hole! The word “defeat” had no place in his vocabulary because he had the inner strength to turn whatever happened to him somehow, someway, into something good. Our faith teaches us that we can change any situation…any…situation, by changing our internal attitude about it.

            Like you are as rich as you perceive yourself to be. Or as poor.  The toughest things have to be whipped on the inside. Crutches are fine for a broken leg, but it takes time and stamina to heal a broken-heart. There is stubborn power in the human will, for good or ill. But God believes in us! And that we have it in us to whip whatever hand fate seems fit to deal us. The key though is whether we can believe it. That’s why we come to church. The Bible says God “will never put more temptation on us than we’re able to stand” I Cor. 10:13). I’ve got to admit, there’ve been times I’ve questioned that. But so far, by hook or crook, I’ve withstood all of my temptations. And even come out better from some of them.

          When I was a kid, one of the key figures was my music teacher. Mrs. Dickson we called her. She was more than a teacher, she was my counselor. She helped me see that practicing the scales when I’d rather be out on the ball field, wasn’t punishment, but rather to look at it as strengthening my fingers that were exploded in a dynamite blast that killed my grandfather. And it did. That was a long time ago, but I never forgot having to take music lessons. Yet I’ve often forgotten the philosophy of it: what the compulsions of life do to us, depends on what they find in us.

            It raises a question: What makes life worth living? Some say “Life is worth living if you’re lucky or attractive or powerful; born with a silver spoon in your mouth.” But that’s just for the fortunate few; the so-called 1%. What about those who have to try harder because they’re unlucky or afflicted or disadvantaged? Let alone those who do themselves in. Is theirs a life worth living? Sometimes I think in my hubris, if I were God, I could do better than that!

           Some would draw a line through the human race, with the fortunate ones on one side and the unfortunate on the other and those who find life worth living are those on the fortunate side of the line. Not if Jesus is our model. A carpenter by trade, with “no place to lay his head,” falsely tried and crucified, St. Paul overcame tremendous odds, Helen Keller, a blind person with vision; Dr. King, who inspired a nation to be it’s best self! What side of the line would they be on? These have not sat in the soft-cushioned seats of the world. They rose above their circumstances, in spite of them, because of something on the inside of them, we call strength of soul or tenacity of spirit, that’s just as real as money or luck or looks. Nobody finds life worth living. What belongs to us to find is a way to make life worthwhile.

           The Australian Aborigines throw out a boomerang and it comes back to them. It’s mechanically constructed to return to sender. Turn a homing pigeon loose far away from home, and it will too.  But a homing pigeon has a mysterious inner instinct, a boomerang doesn’t have. Then a Prodigal Son leaves home with his inheritance in tow. There he learns the hard way what it’s like being lost in the far country – and he may or may not return. There’s nothing programmed about a person. That troubled young man had something neither a boomerang nor a homing pigeon has – freedom of choice. He wallowed around in the pig pens, but still had something left of his Old Man inside of him, to straighten him out. Where even being a “slave” in his Father’s house is better than being a pawn of his “friends,” who used him till there was nothing else to lose. “I will arise and go back home to my Father!”

            That’s how we turn our bad decisions back into something good. We rise up above our stupefying surroundings that some people have a knack to make of their existence! But we don’t stoop. You don’t rise above anything by stooping. Oh it’s sad to watch people settle for so much less than God intends for us! Bounce a ball against the wall and it’ll return the way it was thrown. That is predetermined.  Gravity works. It’s a mechanistic reaction. But people don’t behave that way. When life bounces us around, we don’t have to react. We can respond. That is the difference between people. To react is reflexive. To respond takes into account our spiritual contribution.

            What did Paul have in mind when he described our ability to respond as “loving God?” He’s thinking of faith and purpose that gives life meaning no matter what happens to us. Where character is directed so that we find something worth living for and adequate resources to live by. In our capacity to make that kind of response, our freedom lies.

            Ecclesiastes, the most pessimistic book in the Bible says as much. “Life is vanity. All things come alike to all, for the righteous and the wicked; all the evil that’s done under the sun, all things come alike to all.” We don’t know what happened to that guy. We also know he didn’t know about the Gospel of John. It might’ve made a difference in his outlook. But it sure looks like he’s right. Birth and death, joy and sorrow, sickness and health, love and loss, happiness and tragedy – such things are no respecter of persons. They come to each, regardless of character or response. In the end, all things come alike to all.

            On Calvary three crosses were planted. On one of them resided a thief, profane and disrespectful. On the other was another thief, compassionate and penitent. Between them hung the Christ. Strange world where three such diverse men hung on the same Calvary! But all things come alike to all.

            Sometimes I think if I were God I could do a better job than that! A cruise ship sinks and good and evil alike drown. A tornado blows a town off the map and churches and schools fare no better than the crummy bars. Hard economic times engulf the honest more than the crooks. The rain falls on the just and the unjust. If I were God I think I could beat that! Alas, I’m just me. However we’re in luck for St. Paul provides us with the Word of God: “To them that love God, all things work together for good.” In one sense both Ecclesiastes and Romans are true.

            Jesus showed that in his parable of the two houses. One man built his house on the sand and the other on bedrock. The same indiscriminate fury from Mother Nature came upon both of them. The rains fell, the lightning struck, the floods rose and the winds blew. At that point Ecclesiastes is right: All things may come alike to all. But all things don’t come out alike. Because what life does to us depends on what it finds in us. That’s why Ecclesiastes is wrong. In the end the house built on sand is gone. The one built on the rock still stands. Just so, some souls go to pieces and for those who love for God, “All things work together for good!”  

            A man of means hired a builder to construct the finest home imaginable. No expense was spared; only the best would do. Yeah he shaved a few corners. It’s a common practice because it’s so easy to hide. But when it was finished, the builder was generally pleased with his work. Then the rich man said “The home is yours but you must live in it.” Suddenly the places where he cheated stared at him. And he realized how much better he would’ve built it, if only he’d known he was destined to live in it. You have to live in what you build, because life is what you make it. Make yours one somebody would be proud to live in.

 ProvidencePrayers: (3/11/12)

            All praise be unto Thee Loving Lord! And may this hour of worship inspire us to live better by putting us in tune with the rhythm that Jesus called “abundant life.” Like the man who built his house on the solid rock, be unto us the Rock of Ages, our Source of everything good in this world; upon Whom we can rely for negotiating our own difficult times, when the rains fall and the winds blow, so that in the end, we will be left standing.

            We thank Thee for unwelcome new experiences that lead us to discover in ourselves capacities that we never knew were there; for the challenging words of scripture that blaze fresh light on our souls and offer us a worthwhile purpose as our circumstances change; for the winsomeness of loyal friends, who restore our hope when things look bleak; and for your mercy that holds us steady, when the storms of life befall us. We pray for those who no longer have anything to look forward to.  For those who put spiritual growth at the bottom of their priorities; as well as those who build their houses on the sand by putting self at the center. We remember all who are hurting because what they long for most they cannot have. 

            May our church continue to believe in people who need believing in so that we can say “We must,” instead of “I can’t.” May the joy of Thy comforting Spirit indwell our souls, so that in the worst of times, we will be inspired to do the best of things. And let us never forget Thy great promise: “all things work together for good to them who love God.” through Christ our Lord, Amen.