Tenth Sunday after Pentecost: Hallowed By Thy Name....

Readings for this Sunday are:  Genesis 18:20-32; Psalm 105:1-6; Colossians 2:6-14 and Luke 11:1-13

“Lord, teach us to pray…”

There’s something about the disciples’ plea that touches me deeply. After all that time with Jesus, travelling together, sharing life together, learning from the Master, they still watch Jesus pray, and say, “I want to pray like that….Lord, teach us.” 

Jesus responds by teaching them this prayer – the prayer that has become THE PRAYER of the Church – all churches, in all times and all places.

One of the things that struck me when I first started going to a Lutheran Church was how often the Lord’s Prayer was prayed. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer in worship. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer to start meetings. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer to end meetings. Just about any time a group of Lutherans gather together for any reason at all – we pray the Lord’s Prayer.

I think a big part of the reason we do this is because the Lord’s Prayer is the prayer that Jesus gave us:

-      we know it’s got to be good,

-      we know it’s how God wants us to pray,

-      and we know it covers all the bases.

“Jesus, teach us to pray…”

Jesus gave his disciples this prayer as a model on how to pray.  So what does the Lord’s Prayer teach us about God, about ourselves, how we pray? We’re going to spend the next few weeks praying the Lord’s Prayer, and thinking about what each part tells us about God, ourselves, and prayer.  We’re going to be asking these questions;

·        What do we think each petition of prayer means?

·        What new insights can we find about the petition?

·        And what does it mean for us today?

Finally, we’ll spend just a little time in prayer, using that day’s petition as our model.

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

Let’s look at the first three big words and this prayer: our, father, heaven.  These words frame and set the tone for the entire prayer:

“Our” – Have you ever noticed that all the pronouns in the Lord’s Prayer are plural: our, we, us?  This is a not prayer for me and my – although when you pray this prayer by yourself certainly your concerns, the cries of your heart are wrapped up and included in the “Our”: this congregation wherever we may be at that moment, and the prayers of the whole church.  The “our” connects us to each other and to the world as we pray with and for our communities, and especially with for those most vulnerable, “the least of these.”

“Father” – If ‘our’ reminds us that we are a community, ‘father’ speaks volumes about relationship.  We address our prayer to a God who loves us as parent loves a child. God who is adopted us as children and heirs. 

“Heaven” – “heaven” further defines “father.”  Our father is God the creator of the whole universe. God the provider.  Jesus tells us that God is more faithful than even the most loving human parent to respond needs and requests of God’s children.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name…”

What does this mean?

(What do you think it means?  Take a moment to answer.)

Praise God.  Be thankful.  Remember God is holy.  Keep God’s name holy.  

In the Small Catechism, Luther answers the question this way: 

“It is true that God’s name is holy in itself, but we asking this prayer that it may also become holy in and among us.”

Luther linked it to keeping the second commandment:  to not take the Lord’s name in vain.   Luther went on to say that when we pray “hallowed be thy name,” we are asking God to turn our hearts more and more to God, so that our lives reflect God’s love and holiness.

“Hallowed by thy name” can be heard as a request for God to help us rejoice in and praise God’s holiness and to make our lives show that holiness.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

What insights can we discover?

Let’s look a little deeper.

“Name” goes a bit deeper than just the name of God. Name means reputation – like somebody’s good name. Name also was identity - who someone is, what their character is like.

“Hallowed” is a word we really don’t use a lot anymore. It means to make something holy – which is to set it apart, make it special, make it exclusive.  And the way this is worded in the Greek, is that we’re asking God to make God’s name holy.  In other words, we’re asking God to be God.

That’s in effect what Abraham was asking God in our story from Genesis today. Abraham starts out appealing to God’s justice and righteousness and mercy – surely God will not destroy the righteous with the sinful!  That’s not in keeping with God’s righteousness or God’s mercy.  Abraham’s plea for God to save Sodom for the sake of the righteous living in it – including his nephew Lot and his family – was a request for God to act in keeping with God’s character. For God to hallow God’s name.

Jesus tells us that we can trust God to be God.  He tells the story of the sleeping friend reluctant to get up and answer the door and meet his papers need.  To those listening to Jesus, it’s an absurd story – no one in that day would ignore the demands of hospitality and not get up and answer the door and give what was needed.

The next story is equally absurd - no parent would give his child a poisonous scorpion instead of bread!  In laying out these two totally impossible, ridiculous scenarios, Jesus reveals to us just who our heavenly father is:  the giver of good things, the one who knows our need before we ask, the one to whom we can confidently go to in prayer.

 “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

What does this mean for us today?

Prayer is powerful stuff.  Prayer changes things. 

My friend Martha, from Revgalblogpals, said this about the power of prayer: “Prayer works on God, works on us and it works on others.” 

That’s what ‘hallowed be thy name” does.  Our prayer works on God, asking God to be God. And God comes near with justice and mercy and grace and love, bringing peace and wholeness and healing. 

“Hallowed be thy name” works on us, opening our hearts and turning us into people who live in such a way that God’s justice and mercy and grace and love is revealed to everyone around us.  

We pray “Hallowed by thy name” our sake, and for the sake of a world that desperately needs God’ peace, justice, mercy and love.

And God listens.    

So, let us pray…

We’re going do a little exercise that I often do with my confirmation students – we’re going to restate this first petition of the Lord’s Prayer in our own words. Here’s how this works:

    1. As a congregation, we’re going to pray, “Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” 

    2.   Next, we’ll take time for each of us to pray a prayer praising God, thanking God, or asking God to be God and to help us live in a way that reveals God’s love.

                a.   You can pray this out loud or silently. 

                b.   If you’d like to, and I encourage this, turn to someone next to you                      and take turns praying your prayer of praise out loud.

    3.   After a few minutes, we’ll close with “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen”

“Jesus, Lord, use this time to teach us to pray…

“Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…

Time for prayer of praise

“For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.”

We continue our time of prayer and praise with the hymn “Thine the Amen,” 801 in the blue hymnal. 

(If you're reading the blog and don't know this hymn, substitute a hymn that speaks to you of God's holiness and what God has done.  Two ideas -  "How Great Thou Art" or read the Psalm for the day.)

It's OK to Not Do It All - Monday Musings on Luke 10:38-42

I wrote this drama for a preaching class.  The assignment was to preach incorporating a 'found text'  - and at the time, I saw an ad/billboard (I can't remember what it was for!) that said "It's OK to not do it all."  I remember thinking, "That's sort of what Jesus was trying to tell Martha."  Then I started wondering what Martha's response was.  Did she listen to Jesus and sit down?  How did her life change from this encounter with Jesus?  What did her friends think?

Martha: 

Let’s see.  The washing is all done. 

And the bread baking went so much faster with Mary to help.  And we had so much fun reminiscing about mother! 

Hmm.  Dusting – I should probably dust.  No it can wait.  There are more important things than dusting every day. 

         

Email!  I have time for my e-mail. And I need to answer Rachel last message.  I don’t know quite what to say to her….

Maybe I should re-read our last few posts….

(7Days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From:  Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

To: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

Dear Martha,

I can’t believe you emailed back already!  And such a chatty note!  Usually it’ two weeks later and you say “been really busy, hope everything’s ok, talk more later.”  What’s gotten into you?

Anyway, I’ve been telling you all along, it is OK to not do it all.  That’s why God gave you a sister.  You need to give that dreamer a good kick in the you-know-what and get her to do her fair share.

I can’t believe this Jesus told you Mary chose the better way!  I mean – what do men know about how to care for a guest. Really, he simply has no idea just how much work it is to host a party.  What did he expect – for you to sit down and spend time with him AND there would be a meal!  Did he think there would suddenly just be enough food for all?

Oops – gotta go.  It’s time to pick the kids up from Hebrew school.

Shalom, Rachel

  

(6 days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

To: Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

Dear Rachel,

You just don’t get it.  When Jesus said Mary’s choice to sit and listen to his teaching was a better choice than my choice stay in the kitchen to prepare the meal, I WAS angry.  I couldn’t believe he took her side!   

So I thought – I’ll show him.  I’ll sit down and listen and then when dinner’s not ready, he will see that he should have sent Mary in to help. 

So I sat right down next to Mary and started to listen.  After a while, I stopped being angry and worrying about dinner, and really listening to Jesus.     

You know what – no one starved!  After Jesus taught us for awhile, everyone pitched in and we had a delightful dinner.  Those fishermen really know how to cook a fish!  I even had John show me his recipe!

I had planned to wow Jesus with my skills at hosting a party on such short notice. Instead, I actually got to enjoy a meal with my guests!  It was so nice to be a part of the table conversation instead of running back and forth to the kitchen.  Jesus tells the most wonderful jokes. 

Shalom, Martha

(5 Days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From:  Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

To: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

Dear Martha!

I am scandalized!  It’s one thing for those uncivilized fishermen to invade your kitchen – you can’t expect Galileans to understand the way sophisticated hosts manage their parties.  But you – you actually let them!!

I can’t say I think much of this Jesus you’re always talking about.  He seems to be rather lacking in the manners department.  He should have better control of his closest followers.  It’s like he cares more about talking than about the right way to do things.  What did he do after the meal, roll up his sleeves and wash the dishes?

Enough of this nonsense!  I’ve got a meeting with the synagogue women’s committee.  We’re having a bake sale so the youth group can go on the Jerusalem overnight trip – you know the one where they get to tour the temple and meet the High Priest.

Shalom,
Rachel

(4 Days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

To: Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

Dear Rachel,

As a matter of fact, Jesus does care more about talking with people, and listening to their stories and taking care of them, than about doing things the right way. 

And yes, he did help with the cleaning up, as did Mary and several of the disciples.  Really, Rachel, the evening was so much more enjoyable without having to worry about all that I needed to get done.  I got to know Jesus so much better.  He tells such terrific stories. 

How can I help with the youth trip?  Do you need any chaperones?

Shalom,

Martha

 (3 Days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From:  Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

To: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.menet]

Dear Martha,

I don’t know if you should spend so much time with this Jesus.  He seems to be a bad influence on you.  Your mother, God bless her memory, would turn over in her grave if she knew how you shirked out of your hostess duties and the pitiful way you entertained your guests.  Hosting guests is NOT about spending time with them, it’s about showing off how well you run a house and how good a cook you are.  I know your mother taught you better.

The bake sale committee wants me to ask if you could provide the usual 6 dozen baklava, 7 loaves of your mother’s famous bread and as much matzo as you can make.  Passover’s coming you know!

Shalom, Rachel

PS – how could you possibly find the time to chaperone!

(2 days ago)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

To: Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

Dear Rachel,

Jesus, a bad influence!  For years, you’ve been saying I’m too busy, I work too hard.  That I need to quit trying to do it all by myself and get Mary to help me.

I’m realizing that life is about more that clothes, or houses or food.  Jesus taught me that.   That it’s just as important to feed my soul with the bread of God as it is to make the bread that feeds my family.

 So I am taking Jesus’ advice to choose the better part.  Sometimes that’s being busy making bread, and cleaning house and serving my family.  And sometimes the better part is taking the time to pray, and listen and look for God in the world around me.  I discovered that my to-do list needed to include both time to love God and time to love the people around me.

That’s how I finally have time to answer my e-mails.  And how I can have time to chaperone the youth trip.  I’d really rather spend some time getting to know the young people in our synagogue than making all that baklava.  How about I just make mother’s bread for the bake sale?  That way I’ll have time to chaperone too!

Shalom, Martha

(Yesterday)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all?

From:  Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

To: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

Dear, Dear Martha,

That doesn’t sound like the Martha we all know and love!  I think that you should probably stop those trips to hear Jesus preach, leave the neighbors alone, and take care of yourself. 

Concentrate on doing more of those things that you are so good at – everyone in Bethany envies your homemaking skills.  If you want to spend some time with others, why don’t you invite some of those teen girls in and show them the proper way to keep a gracious home and serve fabulous meals.  You’re always saying how the young girls need to spend more time learning the fine art of household management! Mary could do with some of those lessons too!

The bake sale committee and the youth trip organizers think that they can manage without you this year.  Really, we’re all concerned about you.  You just haven’t been acting like yourself.  Perhaps after a week or two – stay home and let Mary take care of you for a change - you’ll feel up to leading the annual Pre-Passover house sweeping.

Shalom, Rachel

Martha:  (to herself):  Hmm.  Now, what should I say to her?  OH I’ve got it! (Speaking while typing)

RE: It’s ok to not do it all.

From: Martha [manicmartha@jcmail.net]

To: Rachel [rach@rr.bethany.com]

Dear Rachel,

There’s nothing wrong with me.  Actually, I feel better than I have in years.  I didn’t realize how over-scheduled I was.  I was so busy multi-tasking, being the best home-maker, cook, hostess that Bethany had ever seen, I forgot the most important thing.

Rachel, it really is ok to not do it all.

Shalom,

Martha  

*************************

Note:  I believe in sharing, so feel free to use this drama - but please give proper credit!

Performance Note:  I did this as a monologue, with a laptop as a prop.  I think it would also work with 2 readers (and 2 laptops).

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost: Looking for God in Unexpected Places and Faces

Naaman had it all.  He was not just a general, but the winning-est general of the Aramean army.  He had the favor - and the ear - of the king.  He had a loving wife.    What’s more, the Bible says, he got all this, because God favored him.

Not everything was peaches and cream for Naaman though.  He had leprosy.  Now biblical leprosy covered a host of skin diseases – whatever it was that Naaman had, it didn’t interfere with his ability to be a part of the community.  It did, however, interfere with his life and his health. 

Naaman had another gift from God, although he did not know it yet.  He had taken a young girl as a prisoner of war, with the idea of making her a servant for his wife. 

Now there’s a lot of amazing things in this story and one of them is this slave girl.  So insignificant, that we don’t even know her name, but a hero of the faith nonetheless.  Think about.  She far away from home, prisoner in a strange land, made to be a slave.  She could have whined about her faith – ‘oh poor me, I’m just a slave.  I’m nothing.”  She could have been angry, “Serves him right!  He tore me away from my family and home.  I hope he never gets better.”

But she didn’t.  She saw that her mistress was saddened by her husband’s illness.  And she sympathized with her mistress.  Furthermore, she had a solution.  She knew that there was a prophet in Israel who spoke the word of the Lord – Elisha – and she knew that God was in the business of wholeness and restoration.

So the slave girl told her mistress about Elisha.  Excitedly, she told her husband Naaman what the slave girl said. 

Hope.  There was a chance that he could be healed.  How could he not grasp at that hope – even if it came from the most unlikely place, the God of a defeated prisoner of war?

Naaman must have really been grasping at straws to even consider going to Israel.  In that time, people believed that if one army defeated another, that army’s god had also defeated the other.  So it was incredible that Naaman would seek the help of a God who apparently couldn’t defend his people.  Of course Naaman didn’t yet know that God works in unexpected ways and shows up in unexpected places. 

I can only imagine that conversation with the King of Aram:

“Sire, my wife’s slave girl says that there’s a prophet in Israel that can heal me.  May I have your permission to go?”

“Israel?  Are you crazy?  We soundly defeated them.  What makes you think their God has the power to heal you?”

“I have to try.”

It just shows how high the king valued Naaman.  Not only did he give him permission to go, but he greased the skids.  He sent a letter to the king of Israel to smooth the way.

Instead of smoothing the way for Naaman, the letter only served to scare Israel’s king.  Thinking it was a trick to start a war, the king despaired.

Neither the king of Aram nor the king of Israel remembered what the slave girl did – there was a prophet in Israel.

Elisha reassures the king of Israel that Naaman will be healed – just send him over to Elisha.

When Naaman shows up, instead of a king’s palace, he is sent to a prophet’s simple house.  Then the prophet doesn’t even come out – he sends his servant with a message. 

That’s no way to treat a man as important as Naaman, and he becomes furious.  What’s worse, all the servant tells him to do is go dip in the Jordan River – that muddy insignificant creek – 7 times. 

What bunk.  What insult.  Just wait till the King of Aram hears how his favorite general was treated!  Naaman turns to go.

Naaman had a vision of how this healing would go.  The prophet would come out and pray over him and wave his hands over his diseased skin.  And then he would be healed.

Naaman couldn’t see the God might just work in a different way. 

His servants called him out on this – Father (they must have really loved him to call him such an intimate name), if the prophet had asked you to do something great, wouldn’t you have done it?  This is such a simple thing – why not do it?”

And that was the exactly the issue.  There was not spectacle, no magic, no pomp.  It was too simple.  It was too easy.

It was too good to be true.

It was so unlikely – a slave girl has an important message for her master, giving him the information to get the thing he most desired.

It was so lowly – not a king, not even a prophet, but a servant gives him the message that can heal him.

It was so improbably – a dirty creek, not a mighty river, is the means to his healing.

Naaman sees the wisdom in his servant’s words.  There really was nothing to lose.  And if this worked…

He dunked down in the muddy waters – once, twice, three times…seven times.  And when he came up on the seventh time – he was healed.

And more than just physically – because Naaman knew in that moment that God was God. 

How do we know that God is God?

Are we looking for God in all the wrong places?

Are we looking for fireworks and miracles, and miss the little daily ways grace comes to us?

Are we expecting mighty prophets (or preachers) when God sends servant girls, and apprentice disciples, and healed demoniacs, - and us - to spread the good news?

Where do we see God in the unlikely, unexpected places?

In the words of a slave girl and a message from a prophet, and a dip in muddy water,

In the song of a expectant mother and a baby wrapped in swaddling and the shepherd’s story,

In the cry from a cross and an empty tomb,

In water poured over a baby’s head,

In a bit of bread and sip of wine,

In a listening ear, and a burden shared,

In laughter, and a child’s joy,

In the words of a holy hymn or even song on the radio that touches your heart,

In the smallest moments, the simplest things, 

God speaks healing in our souls.

Pentecost: How is the Holy Spirit like a Grill?

Readings for this Sunday:  Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104, 24-34, 35b; Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-17

We often use the image of fire to talk about the Holy Spirit.  When I was on internship, confirmation was on Pentecost which happened to fall on Memorial Day weekend that year. I couldn't help myself.  I compared the Holy Spirit to a BBQ grill.  My supervising pastor and I delivered the sermon as a dialogue, from lawn chairs around a grill in the chancel.  (My confirmation students were a bit nervous about what part the grill was going to play in their confirmation!)

So, with a bit of revamping, and some serious editing for length (my supervising pastor was right - I did preach too long!), I present for your Pentecost meditation:

How is the Holy Spirit like a grill?

If you think about what happens when you light a grill, you’ll get an image of how the Spirit works in the church. 

First there is a great burst of flames.

On Pentecost, the Spirit descended upon those waiting in the Upper Room.  There was a rush of wind and suddenly tongues of fire rested upon each person.  They were so filled with the Spirit, and there was such a commotion, that those listening thought they might be drunk!  Peter, who confessed Jesus was the Messiah and then denied him in the high priests courtyard - that Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit preached the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection and 3000 people were baptized that day. 

All through the book of Acts, we read about wonders and miracles and huge numbers of people who believed and were baptized.  We see the faith spread throughout the Roman Empire by leaps and bounds.  This tremendous period of growth and activity is like that first moment when a grill is lit and the flames burst out.

Have you ever noticed how the charcoal on the top catches fire first and then the pieces underneath start to burn?  Soon every briquette and wood chip in the grill is burning brightly.  That’s like the Holy Spirit too.  God didn’t just send the Spirit to some people, to a chosen few.  God sends the Spirit to all people. 

Now listen again to how Peter starts his sermon:  God declares, I will pour out my Spirit to all flesh: sons and daughters, young and old, even slaves.  The message is clear:  the Good News and the Holy Spirit is for all people, regardless of gender, social class, ethnicity and all the other human-made divisions that we use to decide who’s in and who’s out.   

      The Holy Spirit is a fire that touches everything, that cannot be contained, that no fire extinguisher in the world can quench. (my apologies to the shepherdesswrites - your image was just too good to pass up!)

 

After the flames die down, then the coals continue to burn, a soft orange glow.  There is a lot of energy with all those coals together, and the heat continues for a long time.  It’s time to get cooking!

The Holy Spirit works in the community gathered, especially as we gather to worship.  The first Christians from the day of Pentecost continued to gather.  Later in Acts chapter 2 it is recorded that “They devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread (Holy Communion) and to prayer.  Others were drawn to being part of their group because of the warmth of that group of Christians. 

I’ve noticed that sometimes a coal rolls away from the big group of coals, and is on its own.  It’s harder for that coal to keep on glowing without the heat of the other coals around it.  It reminds me of a verse from the book of Hebrews – let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another.   We burn brighter when we share the Spirit's flame!

Oh, I thought of another way the Spirit is like a grill.  How about the flare-ups?  You know, when you are cooking and the coals burst into flames again because some oil or fat dropped on them.  That’s like the Spirit too.  In the history of the church, there have been “flare-ups” – the Spirit has blown through the church again and again, bringing “flare ups” of reformation and revival.  As Lutherans, we celebrate one of those “flare-ups” on Reformation Sunday.  Even within individual congregations, we experience times of glowing softly and times of passionate burning.  And in each of our own lives, the Spirit sometimes burns brightly and sometimes softly glows.

We could compare dousing a grill with lighter fluid to our baptisms when we are filled with the Holy Spirit. In the story of Jesus’ baptism the Holy Spirit descends on him like a dove. We talk about how in baptism, the Holy Spirit bring us to the waters, washes us and then fills us with wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, knowledge, reverence for God, joy in the presence of God – the very presence Jesus tells his disciples the Holy Spirit brings.    

And that filling continues.  Martin Luther often wrote and spoke about baptism both as an event and an ongoing process of letting Jesus deal with all the things that get in the way of new life with him.  Luther wrote about repentance, seeing where we are no longer following Jesus, and letting Jesus turn us around. It’s like the old is again put to death with Jesus, and the Holy Spirit brings the new things of Jesus into our lives.  In the book of Galatians, there is a lovely list of the fruit of the Holy Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

    We can all do with more of that fruit.

Everything that the fire touches is changed and everyone who the Spirit touches is changed too.   Peter echoes the prophet Joel and says that we will prophesy.  There will be dreams and visions.  The Spirit works within us to give us dreams and visions of the reign of God.  Paul says that we become children of God, heirs with Jesus.  Jesus says that with the Spirit living in us, setting our hearts on fire, we will do even greater things than he did, that we will be able to love one another has he loves us.   

     What does it mean to live sustained and sealed by the Holy Spirit, as was proclaimed over you in baptism? 

      How do you live out the Spirit’s call in your life – at work, at home, in your community?  How is the Holy Spirit burning in your life today? 

Maybe it's time God flipped you over and let the Holy Spirit burn in a new way in your life!  

Second Sunday in Easter: Doubting(?) Thomas

Readings for this Sunday:  Acts 5:27-32; Psalm 118:14-29; Revelation 1:4-8; John 20:19-31

It’s funny how a label sticks with you.  How one moment in your life can define who you are.

Take Thomas for example.

Doubting Thomas.

That one moment with the disciples becomes a moment that defines him, not just for his lifetime, but throughout the centuries.  And it’s kind of unfair – really, if you think about it, none of the disciples believed right away.  They all doubted.  Like I said last week, resurrection is a hard thing to believe – it takes some time to wrap your head around what the empty tomb means, what Easter is all about. 

They’ve all heard the stories – the women’s tale about the angels at the empty tomb saying “He is risen.” {He is risen indeed.}  Peter and John going to see for themselves and finding only the grave clothes.  Mary’s encounter with Jesus in the garden.   

All the disciples have heard (and a few have seen) that Jesus is risen {He is risen indeed.}, but it isn’t until that moment in the upper room, when Jesus appears to them, when they see with their own eyes, that they believe.

That’s all Thomas wants – what the other disciples got.  They all doubted, but Thomas gets stuck with the label.  Really - it’s unfair.  If you think about it, we don’t’ label any of the other disciples by what they do.  I mean, we don’t call Peter “Denying Peter.”  Or how about Nathanael – when Phillip tells him about Jesus, he says, “Can anything good come from Nazareth,” and it’s only when Jesus meets him face to face, that Nathanael decides to follow – and yet, we don’t call him “Cynical Nathanael.”  We don’t call James and John, the sons of Zebedee, “Greedy James” or “Grasping John” - and they spent time trying to figure out who was the greatest of the disciples and had the audacity to ask Jesus if they could sit at his right and left hand.

But there’s “Doubting Thomas.”  That one moment defines him. 

He could just as easily have been “Faithful Thomas.” Back when Jesus gets the news that Lazarus is sick, and he decides to go to Bethany despite the very real danger, the disciples tried to talk him out of it. “It’s too dangerous,” they say, “the Pharisees and the chief priests want to kill you and Bethany’s just too close to Jerusalem.”

Once they realize that Jesus is not going to be talked out of this trip, it’s Thomas who says “Okay then.  If you’re going, Jesus, then I’m going too. It may be the death of me, we may all die, but I’m going.”  It’s a risk. Thomas is really to take a risk for Jesus.  Maybe we should call him, “Risk-taker Thomas.”

Or think about the last meal the disciples shared with Jesus.  After dinner, Jesus tells them he’s going to go away and prepare a place for them, and come back for them, and that they know the way to this place. Thomas asks, “Lord, how do we know the way?” And Jesus says, “I am the way.”   It’s Philip, not Thomas, who asks for more, he asks for proof, “Show us the Father.”  For Thomas, Jesus says he’s the way and that’s good enough for him. Maybe we should call him “Trusting Thomas”

By the way, why was Thomas missing in the first place? Was he the one who was selected to go out and get food?  Maybe he was the only one that would go -  maybe everybody else said “Hey, not me! I’m not going out there!”  After all, they were locked in the upper room out of fear of that chief priests and leaders.  What happened to Jesus might happen to them.  Was it “Courageous Thomas” who was the only one who would go and get provisions for the others?

We don’t know. Does Thomas go out and check to see if it’s safe? Does Thomas go out to pray for them in the temple? Does Thomas go out to continue Jesus’ work?  We don’t know. Maybe he really should be called “Serving Thomas.”

The label that sticks with him is “Doubting Thomas.”

You know, he has another label too.  Thomas is also called “the twin.” Who is he a twin to? We don’t know. John never says.  But some people think that John wrote this story about the disciples and Thomas the way John did, because Thomas stands in for all the disciples who sometimes doubted and sometimes trusted, who sometimes were fearless and sometimes huddled in fear, who were sometimes questioning and sometimes just believed Jesus without question.

Thomas is our twin. Thomas stands in for us, inviting us into the story, into that encounter with Jesus.  We all have our own doubts and fears, and moments of faithfulness and moments we can proclaim the gospel and radiate Jesus in our lives, and moments where we’re serving others and loving the neighbor,  and moments where we’re huddling in fear that upper room.

Jesus comes to those fearful disciples huddled that upper room, he says “Peace…peace be with you.”  And he calms their fears, and he restores their hope, and he forgives their failures, and he loves them.   

And he breathes on them, breathing the Holy Spirit in them, a new breath of life for a new creation.

And then he sends them, Thomas included, to continue his work, to proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom, to proclaim peace, proclaim God’s forgiveness and mercy and love.

Just like Jesus comes to us, and breathes on us, and brings us peace and restores us. Yes, we have those moments where we’re huddled in fear, we have those moments of doubt, but we also have those moments when we encounter Jesus:

·         in worship where we hear the Word proclaimed in scripture and song and prayer;

·         at the table where we meet Jesus in the bread and the wine;

·         in each other as we share one another’s burdens, and love one another as Jesus loves us.

We encounter Jesus in the one moment that really does define us forever – in the waters of baptism, where we are given a new name – beloved, child of God.  A label that says that all other labels the world may give have no meaning.

We’re going to see this defining moment in a little bit when little K comes up and we welcome her to the family God, and we call her by that new name we all share: “child of God.” And we’ll remember again that we too are called “child of God.”

It’s funny how a label sticks with you.  How one moment in your life can define who you are.

Easter Sunday: Seeking the Living in a Graveyard

Readings for Easter Sunday:  Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:19-26; Luke 24:1-12

The women watched as Joseph of Arimathea wrapped Jesus’ body and laid it in the tomb. There wasn’t enough time, it was too fast, almost Sabbath. This just wasn’t right; it wasn’t the way they wanted to honor their Lord.

So they went, to retrieve spices carefully tended and preserved, packed away for such an occasion, To purchase ointment and more rare spices before the vendors closed for Sabbath. 

To bring their best, an offering of love, the final act they would do for their Lord.

They started out early, each carrying her offering, each determined to do what should’ve been done three days ago, no matter what - after all, Jesus has been in the closed up, hot tomb for three days.

They came to the tomb, spices in hand; ointments ready to prepare the body of their dead loved one.

We’ve all stood at that moment, facing the finality of death. Maybe it was in the funeral home, meeting with the funeral director, selecting just the right casket, just the right songs to proclaim to the world how much your loved one meant to you.

Maybe it was that moment in the doctor’s office when the word cancer was first said.

That moment when the bags were loaded in the trunk and a slamming front door sounded the end of a relationship.

The moment when you walked out of work and as the outside air hit your face, you realized that like it or not, you no longer worked there.

The moment so many years ago when angry words left someone’s mouth, and parent and child, or brother and sister, took one last look and walked silently away.

That moment when a drink or a pill became the most important thing in life. That moment when dreams become lost, and hope for the future disappears. That moment when you couldn’t bear 

to look at yourself in the mirror because you didn’t like what you saw.

That moment when you turn off the TV news, put down the paper, shut off the Internet because you just can’t hear one more report of tragedy, war, hunger, pain – one more report about brokenness, greed, hatred.

At some place, at some time, we’ve all walked the same path to the tomb the women walked that morning. 

It never occurred to them that Jesus would not be there. After all, the dead stay dead.

The open tomb, the scattered linen wrappings puzzled them. They stood and stared, not comprehending.

Suddenly a bright light and two angels startled them.  Dropping jars and scattering spices, they fell to the ground, bowing before these divine messengers.

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen.”

The thing is they weren’t looking for the living.  They came to look for the dead among the dead.  The spices and the ointments in their hand prove that they never expected to find Jesus alive. It wasn’t until the angels told these women who had travelled with Jesus for three years to remember that they looked beyond their grief and pain.  Only then did they remember all that Jesus said and done and how he predicted not only his death but this very moment when they would discover that he’d been raised from the dead.

They had forgotten to look for the living.  Maybe they just found it too hard to believe that after that horrible death, there was any possibility of life.

Where those places where we still look for the living among the dead? 

Because we do this - well, actually, we don’t look for the living among the dead.  Like the women that first Easter morning, we look for the dead among the dead.  Like the women, we expect death and brokenness in the very places where God’s told us there will be life. 

Resurrection – it’s not an easy thing to believe.  My dad always said there were two things you could count on – death and taxes.  Resurrection messes with the way things are supposed to be.  It defies the natural order of things.

Resurrection means something supernatural has to have happened – something has broken into the natural order of things.

It means God happened.

It was just as hard for Jesus’ followers to wrap their mind around the idea of resurrection as it is for people today.  The women’s story of the angels and the empty tomb sounded like “an idle tale.” Actually that’s a pretty mild translation of leiros, the word Luke uses to describe the 

reaction to the women’s story.

 Leiros - it’s where we get our word “delirious.” It’s crazy talk, nonsense.  Incredible.  Impossible. Rubbish. Crap.  Seriously – a faithful translation of leiros is B.S.

Resurrection –Leiros!

Leiros or not, Peter had to go check it out for himself. He goes and sees the empty tomb, the scattered linens – he doesn’t get angel messengers, so he stands there on his own trying to figure it out. He’s amazed, puzzled, and very, very confused.

Resurrection is not an easy thing to believe. It takes the disciples some time to figure this out.  There are doubts and fears.  That’s normal – because the empty tomb changes everything.

And it takes times to wrap your mind about a change that shakes your whole world, that turns everything you knew about how life works upside down.

It takes time for them to realize that the empty tomb changes everything.

The empty tomb changes everything. God happens; God comes down and walks among us. God suffers as we suffer, experiences death just like we experience death – and then breaks the power of death. That very first Easter morning, when the women find the tomb empty, they discover the first sign that things are no longer the same.

Jesus resurrection means that death the longer has the last word, that life and love are stronger than death.

Jesus’ resurrection means that God’s kingdom has come, is coming – that God is working to re-create, to bring closer that day when all tears are wiped from the eyes and that there is a new heaven and a new earth and Jesus rules and justice and peace and love.

Jesus resurrection means that when we hear of the death and experience death – bad news, tragedy, sickness, poverty, broken relationships, lost dreams - that we look for the living, we look for life.

Jesus resurrection means that God, in whom we live and move and have our being, says “leiros” to death, and “yes” to life.

He is risen!

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Maundy Thursday: A Night to Remember

This sermon was originally preached at Ascension Lutheran Church, Columbus Ohio, April 21, 2011

This is a night of remembering.

Actually, the next three days are days of remembering.  Tonight’s service contains no blessing and dismissal, neither will tomorrow night’s service.  We leave in silence, to ponder the events of the day.  Thursday blends into Friday, blends into Saturday, and bursts into Sunday as we remember Jesus’ last few pre-resurrection days on earth.

It is fitting that this is a night of remembering.  The events of these holy days are firmly placed in the time of Passover - and if there is one thing Passover is about, it’s remembering. 

Once again, we read in Exodus how God rescued the Hebrew children from slavery. We heard God describe to Moses the final, definitive plague, the closing salvo in the battle between God and Pharaoh and his gods.  We listened as God directs Moses to have the whole of Israel put the blood of a lamb on their doorposts to keep the angel of death from their homes.  And we heard God institute the Passover feast so that all of Israel will remember this night forever.

Passover is all about remembering.  The foods eaten, the prayers said, the stories told all remind the children of Israel of how God reached out with a mighty arm and rescued them from slavery in Egypt, from oppression under Pharaoh. 

How God sent plagues, and divided the sea to bring the Hebrews safely out of Egypt. 

How God made them a people and provided for them in the wilderness.

How God brought them to a land of their own. 

That night, that first Passover evening, certainly was a night to remember. 

But Passover is about more than remembering – at least more than what we, speakers of English, mean when we say “we remember.” As so often happens, something got lost in translation.  That part where God says, “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord;” – we don’t get that part quite right. We think we know what “remember” means: to think of, to recall, to reminisce, to keep in mind.   The Hebrew verb “zakar,” which we translate as remember, actually means something more.  It means to call something to mind and to actively participate in it.

When our Jewish cousins celebrate the Passover feast, they are not simply re-telling a story that happened to their ancestors long ago.  When they tell the Passover story, they are telling a story in which they have participated and are participating in.  They celebrate how God has liberated and is liberating them from their own version of Pharaoh’s oppression. 

Passover is not a celebration of events that occurred long ago. 

Passover is a celebration of God breaking in to the brokenness and oppression that each one experiences today,

     a celebration of God’s saving actions here and now,

         a celebration of God’s provision and care today,

            a celebration of God bringing them together as a community and claiming them as God’s own.

It’s a night of remembering, but it’s so much more.  It’s a present memory; it’s a living history; it’s sacred participation in and with God.

Jesus’ disciples understood Passover. They were good Jews, taught from infancy that each Passover, they themselves were the slaves, that Passover was God acting for them here and now. 

So, when the disciples at the table in the upper room, heard Jesus say,

“This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me…This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me,”

they knew what Jesus meant by “remember.”  They may not have understood what Jesus meant by the bread being his body and the cup being a new covenant in his blood, but when Jesus said “remember,” they knew exactly what he meant.  They understood that remembering included participation.

This active remembering is what Paul has in mind when he “passed on what he had received” to the Corinthians.  The Corinthians understood “remember” in much the same way Paul did.  The word Paul uses for ‘remembrance’ is based on the Greek verb “anamnesis.”  We translate it as “remember.”  But it means so much more:  to call something to mind and to actively participate in it. It was used as a religious term in Greek – to call to mind the covenant made when offering a sacrifice to the gods and act to fill it.

Paul was telling the Corinthians that each and every time they celebrated the Lord’s Supper, they were affirming and renewing the new covenant God had made with them through Jesus.  They were participating in Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Dying and rising with Christ, empowered them to live as Jesus lived, and love as Jesus loved.

This is indeed a night of remembering – of “zakar,” of “anamnesis.” 

If we simply “remember” Jesus, we miss out. 

If we just remember, the morsel of bread and sip of wine are just that – bread and wine. 

If we just remember, we can go through the motions and miss out on the gift.

If we just remember, we may have a nice experience here tonight, but leave without encountering God.

If we just remember, we can leave here and go back to our daily life unchanged by the touch of God.

We need to move beyond “remember” to

“experience here and now, fresh and new, God’s grace.” 

We need to move beyond “remember” to

“call to mind and actively participate in Jesus’ death,

to participate in Jesus’ resurrection,

to participate in Jesus’ life.”

Tonight is not simply a celebration of events that occurred long ago.

 

Tonight, these three days, and every single time we gather at the Lord’s Table is a celebration of God breaking in to the brokenness and oppression that each of us experiences today,

a celebration of God’s saving actions here and now,

   a celebration of God’s provision and care today,

      a celebration of God bringing us together as a community and claiming us as God’s own.

It’s a night of remembering, but it’s so much more.  It’s a present memory, living history, sacred participation in and with and under and through God in God’s creative, redeeming actions in the world.

Tonight is a night of “zakar,” of “anamnesis.”  We sit at the table with Jesus.  Jesus washes our feet.  Jesus shares his meal with us.  Jesus commands us to love as he as loved. Jesus suffers for us and God works through Jesus to liberate us once and for all from our brokenness and chains, so that we can love as he loves us. 

“This is my body that is given for you.

“This cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for you and for all people for the forgiveness of sin.

Do this, in remembrance of me.”