March 20, 2016

Palm Sunday
Nick Smith

Today’s liturgy really rushes this day past us. Instead of savoring Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem as a moment of victory, the entire Passion is read for our Gospel. Yes, Jesus will be crucified in six days, but we should not miss that this day marks the beginning of Jesus’ ultimate victory over death—the ultimate act of our salvation. Today is the first of eight days that changed the world—today marks the start of the ending to our beginning.

Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is in all four Gospels in various forms. John notes that the people marvel at the raising of Lazarus from the dead and crowd around Jesus. In Luke, the Pharisees ask Jesus to quiet the crowd, and Jesus responds that even if he did, the stones would cry out! Mark provides a subdued entry with little fanfare or attention but notes that Jesus enters on a donkey. Finally, Matthew relates the enacting of the prophecy by Zachariah, “Rejoice in heart and soul….Shout with gladness daughter of Jerusalem! Look! Your ruler comes to you: victorious and triumphant, humble, riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. And the Gospels reveal that the entire city was stirred up.

Up until this day, Jesus stayed out of the limelight. He has kept a low profile—urging his followers to tell no one. Today, the time has come for Jesus to be recognized for who he is and for why he had come—for what he was to fulfill and the task he wanted his followers to accomplish after him. Jesus enters Jerusalem to finally announce himself as the Messiah—the promised savior. He proclaims himself to be a different kind of ruler for the people, establishing a kindom of peace and love and non-violence, and not what the crowd expected. By coming to Jerusalem, Jesus is compelling people to make up their minds—once and for all—about God and God’s kindom.

Here are the events of Palm Sunday

The night before, Jesus dined with Simon the leper, reported by Luke to be a Pharisee, in Bethany. A woman came to him with an alabaster jar of expensive perfumed oil, and she poured it on his head as he was at the table. 8 When the disciples saw this, they became indignant and said, “Why this waste? 9 It could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor!” 10 When Jesus learned of this, he said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a good service for me, Jesus replies, in preparing him for his burial.”





John reports
Now a large crowd of Judeans learned that Jesus was there, and so they came not only because of him but also to see Lazarus whom he had raised from the dead. 10 So the chief priests planned to kill Lazarus too, 11 for on account of him many of the Jewish people from Jerusalem were going away and believing in Jesus.

Luke reports
Now when they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 telling them, “Go to the village ahead of you. Right away you will find a donkey tied there, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me—that is, the reading we heard before mass for the blessing of the palms.

Later it is reported
As Jesus approached Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, he wept over the city saying, “If you had only known on this day, even you, the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and surround you and close in on you from every side. 44 They will demolish you – you and your children within your walls – and they will not leave within you one stone on top of another, because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”

Later
As he entered Jerusalem the whole city was thrown into an uproar, saying, “Who is this?” 11 And the crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

The crowds shout before him, proclaiming him as the Messiah, shouting hosanna [save us] and declaring him a king in the line of David. And Jesus accepts their acclamation—he does not deny the title. In fact, when told to keep his followers quiet, Jesus confirms their acclimation explaining that if he could quiet them it would be to no avail because the very stones would shout out the news.

12 Then Jesus entered the temple area and drove out all those who were selling and buying in the temple courts, and turned over the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those selling doves. 13 And he said to them, “It is written, ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are turning it into a den of robbers!” 14 The blind and lame came to him in the temple courts, and he healed them. 15 But when the chief priests and the experts in the law saw the wonderful things he did and heard the children crying out in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became indignant 16 and said to him, “Do you hear what they are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read, ‘Out of the mouths of children and nursing infants you have prepared praise for yourself’?” 17 And leaving them, he went out of the city to Bethany and spent the night there.

Finally

The chief priests and the experts in the law heard it and they considered how they could assassinate him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed by his teaching. 19 When evening came, Jesus and his disciples went out of the city.

Then we have the passion reading from today’s gospel—the horrible events to come. But even there on the cross, Jesus will make a statement of victory and triumph. Jesus cries out in a loud voice: “Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachtani!” In English, this is usually translated to mean “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Generally, this is phrased as a question and is thought to mean the abandonment of God. In Aramaic, however, this is not a question but a declaration: “O God! O God! To what (a purpose) You have kept me! Or “To what a purpose you have left me.” And left does not mean to abandoned, but it means spared to fulfill an end or a destiny. This is a shout of triumph. A shout saying, “I have accomplished it!” [Like the phrase, “it is finished in other gospel accounts]. This translation tells us that this was Jesus’ destiny—to suffer and die for us and to rise from the dead in victory as the fulfillment of God’s promise.

Let us savor the victory of Jesus the Christ over sin. We should celebrate this day as disciples who continue to follow Jesus in spite of risk, anxiety, uncertainty and fear. ​

March 13, 2016

Fifth Sunday of Lent

The Woman Caught in Adultery

First Reading: Isaiah 43:16-21

Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, 17who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:18Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. 19I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. 20The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people,21the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.

Second Reading: Philippians 3:8-14

8More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith. 10I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, 11if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. 12Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.

Gospel Reading: John 8:1-11

While Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them. 3The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, 4they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. 5Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. 9When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. 10Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” 11She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

Sermon:

Sex is a powerful force. Many of us will do a lot to get it. Most of us do it within the confines of the law and marriage, but there is story after story about people who are willing to cross the line for sex. Adultery is one of the major causes of divorce. It’s a betrayal of trust; one of the most difficult to forgive.

In today’s gospel, we have two people who were willing to cross the line. Both would have been very familiar with the penalty for such an act. Death by stoning. In Leviticus 20:10, it states that “If any man commit adultery with the wife of another and defile his neighbor’s wife let them be put the death, both the adulterer and the adulteress.” That’s a strong penalty. Death by stoning. It was how society worked then. It’s important to understand it from a historical perspective.

In the time of Jesus, the law concerning adultery was very much based on the idea that a wife was her husband’s property. If another man had sex with a married woman, he had violated his neighbor’s property. It was stealing, theft, clear and simple. So it is that in some parts of Africa the seducer (man) is punished with the loss of one or both hands, as one who has committed a robbery against the husband. The woman is also punished, often by bodily mutilation by her husband so that she will be prevented from being a temptation to other men. Sanctioned violence against women has been perpetuated for generations.

The irony is that this gospel story has always been known as the woman caught in adultery. But if she was caught in the act, there had to be another person. The act involves two people, not one. What happened when the woman was caught? Did the man get away? Was he allowed to escape? There seems to be no mention of him whatsoever. If a stoning was going to happen, where was the man? Why would this woman be made to pay for the adultery alone? Did people know the man and want to protect him? No one seems to be questioning these things—except Jesus.

Jesus fully appreciates how the Pharisees believe that this is an open and shut case. They’ve been wanting to find a way to trick him, to embarrass him and they believe this is it. And the crowd wants vengeance; they too feel fully justified in stoning this woman. It is their law, their right. Everyone may have already had stones in their hands. Jesus is also aware of all that is happening behind the scenes. He knows that there are many unanswered questions. Jesus sees the unspoken dynamics, and he almost always takes the side of the victim.

Jesus knows he is being trapped. It’s what his actions are all about. His drawing on the ground bought him some much needed time to configure the words, to find a way to help open the Pharisees’ eyes to the broader picture. By not looking at them, Jesus was holding up a mirror for them all, everyone gathered, to examine their own consciences. Rather than pointing the finger at them, something that would have simply elevated their anger, Jesus invited them to do it for themselves.

If they were free from guilt, they could throw the first stone. What a brilliant way to turn this situation inside out. Instead of falling into their trap, Jesus steps outside the usual way of thinking and turns it upside-down. Both the Pharisees and the crowd had to be infuriated and may have wanted to use the stones against Jesus. We can’t stand it when someone calls our bluff. Suddenly the public shaming is focused on those who are meant to keep the law. Instead of using the woman for public shaming and scapegoating, Jesus was enabling public ownership of them all as sinners. He created a way of forcing them to admit their own wrongdoing without any words being spoken in exchange. This is what sets Jesus apart. His wisdom, his brilliance in finding a way to bring about change without raising a finger. In fact, his finger was doodling in the dirt—allowing his mind and heart to be open to God’s grace.

We must take notice—Jesus responds with calm, with quiet. This story is meant for each of us. Each of us has our own guilt to keep us from pointing the finger. But it is extremely difficult, especially in these political times, not to point a finger to those who want to call forth our worst selves. The CNN reports on Friday were alarming. Riots are breaking out. The extremes of individualism vs. social concern are clashing. How are we to respond?

First we must be certain that we are not casting stones; that is to participate in the very system that causes violence and power seeking. Second, we must allow love to guide us, even when we see hate all around. We cannot strike out. We cannot be as proud and as angry as the mobs that are causing such violence. Our doodling in the dirt might come in the form of using our laptops to write to our congress men and women. Or signing up for a peace rally (which is now happening every Friday at 4:30pm on the Pentacrest) or clicking on the link I sent you all to get a bumper sticker that reads, “Love Trumps Hate.”

And we may have to go one step further by talking about politics in calm voices with those who disagree with us. If Trump becomes the Republican nominee, we need to be very concerned. And there’s no reason to think it can’t happen. Not anymore. The Pharisees are alive and well and they believe they are in the right. They are using the very same tactics that Jesus called into question—blaming, scapegoating, hatred.

Remember, the woman caught in adultery knows she is guilty. And she knows the consequences of her actions. When Jesus asks her if anyone has condemned her, she says “No one sir.” Jesus says, “Neither do I condemn you”. He has no need to judge her—or to punish her. Instead, he instructs her to sin no more. And I would imagine this was a conversion experience for her—having her life saved by a man.

Mary Demuth, a Christian author wrote, In this story, Jesus Christ didn't overturn the Law. Instead, He re-established righteousness on the basis of grace. With grace at work in our lives, so much is possible. First, we can begin by removing stones—the weapons that are used to promote violence and hatred. What stones are perpetuating anger and resentment in our own lives? What stones keep our hearts reluctant to forgive? Grace can help us soften our grip so we can eventually release these stones.

In our first reading, Isaiah speaks God’s words, “I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” That something new is God’s grace abounding in us and around us and through us. Demuth goes on to say that, Grace ushers in forgiveness, but it also empowers us to walk in a new way. Holiness, then, is built on the experience of grace, not on the fear of the Law. Jesus is in the business of rescuing and releasing us, while at the same time calling our sin for what it is: self-centeredness.

And so we are invited to acknowledge our tendency to think of ourselves first and foremost and instead to move in the hope of what is possible with God’s grace. We can move beyond passivity and complacency and be empowered to help change the political system and our future. Let us hope that this “new thing” can be our conscious efforts to forgive, to drop our stones and to help co-create a whole new world, with God’s grace. Amen.





Communion Meditation

History Is on an Inevitable Course
Sunday, March 13, 2016

As I shared last week, Paul believed that history and all of creation are headed toward a radical union, which he called pleroma, "the fullness" (Colossians 1:19, Ephesians 1:10). But the journey is presented as slow and grueling, as you can sense in his ecstatic and paramount writing in Romans 8:18-39. Read this passage, beautifully paraphrased by Eugene Peterson:

I don't think there is any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. This created world itself can hardly wait for what is coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back now. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment. Meanwhile the joyful anticipation deepens.

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. We are also feeling the birth pangs. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. [This is what I call "negativity capability," or the rubber band pulled back which increases the momentum forward.





So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing [the Godself] to the worst by sending [God's] own Son, is there anything else [God] wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? . . . Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing. . . . None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us."[1]

February 28, 2016

Homily: February 28, 2016
Luke 13: 1-9

Back in the mid 1960’s, my oldest sister and her family moved to Bakersfield, California. Whenever my mother received a letter from her, she would read it to us as we sat around the kitchen table. In one letter, she wrote, “Bakersfield is very hot and very dry. I miss the green of Iowa, the smell of the grass, cut hay, corn and fresh vegetables from the garden. We are located in a neat place, though. Drive for about an hour to the west, and you are on the beach by the ocean. Drive about an hour to the east, and you’re in the mountains and cool air. One funny thing we’ve discovered is that on Saturdays in the fall and on other evenings of the year, the scenic overlooks going up the mountains are packed with cars. We saw an Iowa flag waving in the breeze last Saturday, so Paul stopped and asked what was going on. It seems that Iowans drive up the mountain roads to the overlooks and tune their radios to WHO from Des Moines in order to listen to the Iowa football games. You can only get WHO at the mountain elevations. Why, we asked. Because it brings us closer to home, they replied. We took our grill and tail-gated on the mountain last Saturday, talking to fellow Iowans and listening to the Iowa vs Illinois football game. We’re not big football fans, but we had fun.

This phenomenon has always stuck with me over the years—people would drive up the mountain to listen to a football game in order to be closer to home. I don’t suppose this happens any more with satellite and cable TV, but I think the entire situation is interesting.
I know with myself, home is where I grew up, where my family was, my parents, my brothers and sisters—my extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins and childhood friends—even though I haven’t lived there in 50 years. For me and [as it turns out] most people, this is home—the place where you were loved, accepted and welcomed, even when you were less than perfect.

Many psychological research studies have found that our first or main childhood home plays an integral role in the development of our personal identities. These initial childhood experiences can become deeply imprinted into our psyche, and if they were happy ones, we often seek to recreate them as adults and return to them often during our lives to provide us with guidance, assurance and comfort.

We like to be home as people. We like to have those roots. We like to have a place where we belong—a place where we are loved for just being us.

So, what does “home” have to do with today’s readings? Well, just about everything. In the first reading, God calls Moses through the burning bush to return home—back to Egypt—and bring the people of Israel back to their home-land. Paul [in his rather bizarre retelling of Israel’s exodus] admonishes the church of Corinth, urging them to return home to the principles and teachings of Jesus. He links the predominantly Gentile population of Corinth to the people of Israel with the curious phrase “our ancestors;” thus, inviting them to return home to the teachings of Jesus.

In both readings, it is good to return home—to a place where you are welcomed in love and acceptance. In both readings, the word “repent” in Hebrew literally means “to turn around” or “to return.” To repent means to turn around and return home.

The gospel begins with two tragedies that have happened. Pilot has apparently had some Galileans murdered and their blood mixed with the blood of their own sacrifices. Jesus replies, “Were the Galileans worse sinners? No. Then Jesus adds another tragedy pointing out the eighteen people who were killed when a tower collapsed. “Were the eighteen victims worse sinners?” he asks. No. These events were not because of some great sin that those people had committed.

So why did they happen? We’re waiting for the answer from Jesus. But he doesn’t give us one. No, he ignores the abstract, “Why do bad things like this happen?” and goes straight to the lives of those listening. And to us. He turns and looks at us. Unless we repent, we too will perish. And this perish is even more catastrophic than the tragedies that brought death. This perishing is eternal. Forever being separated from God. Never being able to come home to his love. Jesus is taking us out of the abstract “why?” and turning us back to ourselves. Calling us to repent, that is, to turn around and come home to God.

Jesus tells us how repentance works. You turn away from something that is pulling you away from Jesus and turn around to come back home to God. It’s like the parable of the Prodigal Son. The young son wants his inheritance early. His father gives it to him. He heads off to another city to live. Do you see what the big problem is? As Americans, we think about how he wasted the money. We imagine what type of sinful living he indulged in. But the bigger problem happened earlier. He. Left. Home. He turned his back on his home.

Finally, he realizes what he has done. He’s feeding pigs and they have better food than he does. So repentance has begun. He turns away from what has led him so far from home and heads back. His father sees him coming. He runs to meet him. New robe. New sandals. New ring. Celebration! He’s come home. Repentance is coming home. Repentance is being welcomed home in love and acceptance.

Repentance is coming home to Jesus—to God, and God is waiting with open arms, but our time is limited, and we don’t have forever. Jesus illustrates this idea with the parable of the fig tree. In Jesus’ time, bad things didn’t just happen to good people. So if you found yourself in the midst of a horrific event then you must have done something to upset God. But Jesus says this concept that punishment and sin are related is inaccurate and inconsistent with the truths about God’s mercy and forgiveness. The last thing Jesus says before diving into the parable is “But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:5). The point is not that these people were sinful and therefore bad things happened to them; God never promised that your life would be free of tragedy and disappointment. The point is that you must repent—return to God--and the time to do so is now.

Just as the fig tree was, given another chance to bear fruit, so are we given another chance to repent, but you must not wait. This parable also provides the audience with a sense of hope. The story does not give you closure as to whether the fig tree produced fruit after that last year. It leaves it open—to give you hope that no matter how barren you may be, there is still the possibility of becoming fruitful.

When I travel somewhere new to me, I use a GPS. If I miss a turn, it says, “turn at the next street—turn right, then turn right and then turn right again, getting me back on the right path. With God, it’s always possible to turn around and get “back” on the right path—to come home, and God welcomes us with opened arms. Repentance is coming home. Things will happen. And while the gift of our earthly life is still ours, we need to ask ourselves, how is our relationship with God? Do we love our neighbors as ourselves? Are we relieving the sufferings of others or are we pointing fingers to connect the dots between their suffering and sin—blaming the person.

I can’t help but think of poor Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz who is swept away in a tornado, forced to face unbelievable horrors and dangers of all sorts, and who—in the end—processed the power of her own salvation by simply clicking her heels together and repeating the words, “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Maybe during this Lenten season we should all repent—turn around and return home to God.​