SermonsSermons:2009-06-16T13:11:02ZCopyright (c) 2009, Daniel TurnerExpressionEnginetag:germantownumc.org,2009:06:14Fully Devotedtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6402009-06-14T13:07:01Z2009-06-16T13:11:02ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comLet us pray. O God, our Guide and our Guardian, you have led us apart from the busy world into the quiet of your house. Grant us grace to worship you in Spirit and in truth, for the up-building of every good purpose and Holy desire. Enable us to hear and understand your Holy Word. Grant that the words of my mouth may be your Word, and the meditations of all of our hearts may be acceptable in your sight. May we be changed by the hearing of your Word so that we would worship you not just with our lips at this hour, but in word and deed all of our lives. For Christ’s sake, Amen.
This morning we continue our journey through the Gospel of John. Here in the 12th chapter, verses 1-8, we see Jesus’ third encounter with a woman that John has recorded for us. Listen now for the Word of the Lord.
John 12:1-8 NRSV Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
May God bless the reading of his Holy Word to our understanding.
Jesus is in Bethany. The name “Bethany” means the house of the poor. It’s the hometown of Lazarus, and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Jesus had been here when he raised Lazarus from the dead, and then when a plot to kill him rose up among Caiaphas, the high priest, and the chief priests and Pharisees, Jesus had gone with the disciples to Ephraim in the region near the wilderness.
But now it is six days until Passover, and this trip to Jerusalem for Passover will be Jesus’ last. Bethany is about two miles east of Jerusalem, and he comes and a dinner party is being thrown for him. It is a festive meal. They recline around the table, the disciples, Lazarus, and we don’t know if there were other guests.... The story appears in each of the gospels with slightly different details. The other gospels all place the dinner in Simon the leper’s home, presumably, he had been healed by Jesus. John doesn’t mention who the host is, whose house they are eating in.
I want us to look closely at the characters who encounter Jesus in John’s account, because I think we will see our own reactions to Jesus in them, and perhaps be challenged to consider what it would mean for us to be fully devoted followers of Christ.
The Barna Group recently published an article about the struggle that many church goers and faith leaders have in defining spiritual maturity. Their research has shown that many churches have not defined what it means to be spiritually mature, and so although people strive to be spiritually mature, they don’t know what that means. So, people are not becoming spiritually mature.
One part of our four-part mission statement at Germantown United Methodist Church says that we are becoming fully devoted followers of Christ. And it is hard to define, to create a map, to full devotion to Christ. What does that mean? Does it mean having an active prayer life? Yes, but that is not all. Does it mean participating in church activities and Bible studies? Yes, but that is not all. Does it mean being a part of a community of Christians? Yes, but that is not all. Does it mean responding to the needs of others by caring for them as we are able and giving to those in need? Yes, but that is not all. Does it mean showing the fruits of the Spirit that Paul talks about in Galatians? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, being guided by the Spirit and bearing one another’s burdens? Yes, but how do we get there? Romans 12 describes new life in Christ, and I like the way The Message captures the meaning of verse 9: “Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it.”
In the survey that Barna published, there were three things that Christians named that were keeping them from being fully devoted -- three obstacles that have to be overcome in order to become spiritually mature: a lack of personal motivation, competing obligations, and a lack of involvement in spiritually nurturing activities.
And so we turn to this passage, and we see how those obstacles are not new. We see four characters interfacing with Jesus in this passage.
Martha served. That’s all John says about her. She gives of herself in a proper way. She is caring; she expresses her thanksgiving for her brother’s life in an expected way. She does what she can, what fits for her. She gives what is comfortable to give. She responds in a measured way.
Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. He has a personal relationship with Jesus. He sits and listens to his teachings, enjoys his company. He loves Jesus and feels close to him. He is thankful for the new life that he has because of Jesus and is here to celebrate his own resurrection from the dead.
Judas Iscariot is present as well, questioning the waste, the misappropriation of funds. He claims that the money could have been better used to serve the poor, but John says he really is concerned about his own loss of income. He shares concern out of his own self-interest without acknowledging that his concern is really for himself, pointing out how this waste is not fair to another group or another person. Perhaps being the treasurer of the disciples’ money has given him power that has corrupted him, perhaps his heart is being hardened in preparation for his betrayal in the next week, or perhaps he has never been the follower he claimed to be.
I don’t know about you, but I see myself in each of these characters. Perhaps not things I’ve actually done, but thoughts, wrong intentions, and careful and safe responses.
Like Martha, we serve where we are comfortable. We do what we can; what we know how to do. We tend to check our daytimers for convenient times to serve. We agree to cook or to mow or to paint, and it is good. Martha served. There is no condemnation of her actions, but her heart has not been transformed. She is playing it safe, going through the motions, doing all the right things without being fully devoted.
Like Lazarus, we develop our own relationship with Christ through prayer and Bible study. We come in contact with what God has done for us. We are grateful for the life that we have in Christ. We know that it is a new life, but has it changed us? Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. There is no condemnation of his actions, but his heart has not been transformed. He knows Jesus as his friend, who saved his life with his miraculous powers. He reclines along with him at the table, he has a personal relationship with Jesus, but he is not fully devoted to him as his Lord.
And unfortunately, if we are honest with ourselves, we know we are a lot like Judas. We point out extravagance, calling for utility and prudence, failing at times to see beauty and sacrifice in others’ actions, or perhaps seeing, but rather than celebrating, we resent and act like spoiled sports. “We rain on other’s parades, on their special moments with God, on their special moments with family, or special moments in their lives. Rather than being sensitive to and empathizing with other people in their special moments, we may make a remark or minimize their sacred time. There are thousands of daily examples of this in our own lives. A sibling receives an award and rather than celebrating in the event, you drop in a little jab. A husband and wife demonstrate affection to each other in a tender moment, and you try to make it funny when they aren’t feeling that way at all. Someone may become deeply committed to Christ and you (or we) downplay the spiritual event.” (Markquart) And like Judas, we hold back our hearts, we judge those who worship in ways not our own, and we point out what is right to do, holding fast to the letter of the law. We, too, are prone to be corrupted by power and greed. Jesus simply responds by telling him to leave Mary alone, to let the one who is fully devoted love and worship him.
And then there is Mary -- overcome by love, by thanksgiving, filled with a motivation that propels her into an act that is not comfortable for those around her. She takes a pint jar of perfume, the kind of oil that you would use to anoint the dead, strong enough to overpower the smell of death. That little jar is worth a year’s wages, and she pours it onto Jesus’ feet. She lets down her hair and uses it to wipe and massage the oil into his feet. And the fragrance fills the house.
Her actions are distasteful on so many levels for those gathered there to celebrate together. It is sort of a “what’s wrong with this picture” story.
First, she should have anointed his head. Two people show honor to one another when one anoints the other’s head. Instead, she anoints his feet. She acts like a servant and gets down on the floor in an act of humility and servitude and lowliness. Mary lowers herself, embarrasses everyone gathered there by acting like she is less than she is, kneeling and washing Jesus’ feet.
Second, she uses her hair for a towel. It was the sign of an immoral woman to appear in public with her hair down. It was extremely improper and even somewhat scandalous. N.T. Wright says that this is roughly the equivalent of a woman hitching up a long skirt to the top of her thighs at a modern polite dinner party. (Wright) It is too intimate; women only let their hair down with their husbands.
Third, she is wasteful. Instead of helping those in need, she has spent a year’s wages on a small bottle of oil to pour on Jesus’ feet. Surely she knew Jesus’ concern for the poor. Judas provides the foil for her devotion with his mocking concern for the cost of the perfume.
Fourth, now the whole house smells like death. Jesus is wanted by the authorities, who have decided that he is too dangerous to be allowed to live. And now, at this celebration of him raising Lazarus from the dead -- the very thing that got him in such a dangerous situation -- one of Lazarus’s sisters pours oil on him like he’s already dead!
And Jesus seems to soak it all up, receptive, quieting the questions, allowing her offering. A fully devoted follower of Christ, loving from the center of who she is.
She didn’t care what others thought or what the culture taught. She responded authentically out of love and joy and gratitude.
She didn’t count the cost. It wasn’t about money for her; it was about compassion and caring and expressing devotion.
Se didn’t second guess her gift. She responded to the still, small voice that called her to anoint Jesus with embalming oil, even if she didn’t understand why.
We don’t know what the source of her motivation was -- was she responding to His teachings of God’s love for her, or was she responding in gratitude for her brother’s life, or was she showing her love for Him because she knew that he would soon die? (Edward F. Markquart, “Expensive Oil for His Feet”)
But she didn’t let the moment pass. The sacred moment was expressed, treasured, and her love expressed. That is full devotion: unconcerned for the custom, unconcerned about the cost, and loving selflessly.
Percy C. Ainsworth was a British writer and preacher at the turn of the 20th Century. He died from typhoid fever in 1909 at the age of 36. He wrote an essay on this passage entitled, “The Waste of the Ointment.” In it, he writes: “Look at the broken vase and the outpoured spikenard, and see where the real judgments of life are recorded for us all. We are tested not by the vast, the intricate, the problematic, not by the creed whose verbal limits have been fixed by learned councils, but day by day in all the simple, faithful, selfless things that life reveals to us. There are things that only the good and the honest and the generous and the sincere can appreciate -- things that are perceived not by the clever-headed but by the clean-hearted.... At Bethany, a sweet and beautiful deed was wrought before their eyes.... Why this waste? This is a question that faces us all, day after day, as we go out to God’s service -- as we...seek to take our place among them who would make this world a better world.... The alabaster vase is broken and empty, and by and by the last lingering perfume of the nard will have been lost in the surrounding air; but the life that gave and the life that received are forever richer, and that empty vessel is the outward and visible sign of one of those simple gifts of sympathy and devotion whereby the heart of the world is kept tender and warm.”
Fully devoted followers of Christ are open to Holy moments -- responding to God’s invitation to love selflessly, to give without counting the cost. Perhaps the path to spiritual maturity seems so hard to define because there is no end point...you never fully reach the finish line...it is a life of striving to know God through prayer, through studying God’s Word, through living in community with God’s people, through serving others in God’s name. It is through those things that we are transformed, our hearts are softened so that they will be opened and poured out as we feel God’s love for another person being expressed in our actions.
Several weeks ago, there was a concert here in our sanctuary to begin to raise funds for a liver transplant for Jerry, a friend of Ronnie Burns, who is on staff here at the church. That night, we raised almost $2,000, and Jerry is amazed and so thankful that this congregation was so generous and loving toward him. A Holy moment occurred that night that I will not forget for some time. Before the concert, a young boy, about 8, opened his wallet at the door to the Sanctuary, and emptied it into the basket. He walked away from the basket a little bit different -- he had felt a nudge and he had responded...a Holy moment. The smile on his face, the joy and fulfillment of freely giving out of love all that he had.
Fully devoted followers of Christ are open to Holy moments -- allowing God’s love to be poured through them selflessly. May we continue to seek to become fully devoted followers of Christ.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. Percy C. Ainsworth’s “The Waste of the Ointment” published in Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life, Vol. 23 #3, May/June 2008
2. William Barclay’s The Gospel of John, Volume 2 in The Daily Study Bible Series
3. http://www.barna.org article: “Many Churchgoers and Faith Leaders Struggle to Define Spiritual Maturity”
4. Frances Taylor Gench’s Women and the Word: Studies in the Gospel of John
5. Sermon by Thomas G. Long: “Gospel Sound Track”
6. Sermon by Edward F. Markquart: “Expensive Oil for His Feet”
7. Edward F. Markquart’s The Life of Christ: A Study of the Four Gospels on The Anointing at Bethany
8. Gail R. O’Day and Susan E. Hylen’s John in the Westminster Bible Companion Series
9. Tom Wright’s John for Everyone, Part Two
]]>Let Me Go!tag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6382009-06-07T16:49:00Z2009-06-08T16:52:35ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.com Let us pray. Holy Father, we thank you for allowing us to gather once again here in your house. Now, send your Spirit to direct our thoughts as well as our understanding; and strengthen us, Lord, to live to your calling this day and always. For it is in Christ’s name we pray. Amen.
John 11:20-27; 38-44 NRSV When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Our text this morning is another one of these John stories, one of these signs as John records them. And it is the 7th one that shows us the power of the Christ. This text that I got for today is one that has been especially close to me for a long, long time. You see, it was the desire to go to Lazarus’ tomb that sent me on my first Holy Land trip.
And at a previous church, when I preached on this text, something happened in that service that has kept it alive in my mind ever since. It’s as vivid today as it was that day and it was an experience that powerfully brought home -- for me, at least -- the message of this Gospel. That day, I was at Stanley Chapel United Methodist Church and I was reading this text from the 11th chapter and I noticed one of the young fathers in our congregation standing at the back of the sanctuary, holding -- or should I say, trying to hold -- his 2 _ year old girl. She was in constant motion, trying to break away from his grip.
Just as I came to the words of the Gospel in verse 44, “untie him,” she screamed out as only a 2 _ year old can: “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”
I tell you, my Brothers and Sisters in Christ, in some ways, that’s one of the messages of the Gospel of the Lord this day: Let me go! Let me go! For you see, each one of us has something that has a firm hold upon our lives. Each one of us has something that keeps us from being truly free as Christ calls us to be free...and yes, desires for us to be free.
Today, deep in our Spirit, I hear the Lord’s voice: “Let me go!” Whether it is some anxiety that is upon me, or a burden I might be carrying, or whether it is something that breaks down what I see and keeps me from knowing all that God wants me to be.
Now, if we use our imaginations as Hollywood would, and try to film -- and they’ve done it many times -- the raising of Lazarus (it’s almost in every one of the Biblical epics on the life of Christ), Lazarus comes out of the tomb much like an Egyptian mummy: bound from head to toe, tightly wrapped in burial garments.
I always wonder what Lazarus was thinking at that moment. There he is, tightly wrapped, coming forth with all these restrictions that restrict his sight and his speech and is movement. “Let him go. Untie him,” Jesus says. “Untie him and let him go.”
So, what about us? What about us as we sit here in this very comfortable place, my Brothers and Sisters? What is it in our lives that bind us and tie us up in knots? What is it that immobilizes us, for whatever reason, and keeps us from truly being free? What is it that limits our perceptions...our ability to see and speak and move?
What is it that comes to your mind, right now, that keeps you from truly being free? What is it that constantly comes into 7our thoughts? “Untie them,” Jesus says. “Untie them and let them go free.”
Oh, my friends, it can be an attitude that entombs us or a prejudice that we have for someone, or a prejudice someone has toward us. It could be something that is just worrying us, that holds us back. Or something that we did in our past or even something we are involved in right now. It might be a relationship that is on the rocks, that entombs us. My Brothers and Sisters, Jesus says to those who he has called by name, “Untie them and let them go free.”
But we must remember, we can’t just walk away from a job because we are unhappy. Or we can’t just increase our salary by thinking about it. Or make a cancer go away. Or even pretend a tragedy hasn’t touched our lives. But the Gospel of our Lord says, “Untie them.” Untie all of those things that restrain you. Untie them and let them go free.
I think it’s interesting in this Gospel story that Jesus never denies the presence of difficulties in our lives. And he realizes the pain that we have. And yes, he even realizes the fact of death itself. For you see, tradition says and reminds us that Lazarus died again. Jesus didn’t promise him that it wouldn’t happen. He didn’t promise him that all the rest of his life would be easy and free from pain and hurt.
What Jesus does for me in this text from John’s Gospel, the 11th chapter, is a fact of overwhelming demonstration of His power, and God’s power, and the power of the Holy Spirit. For you see, they are stronger than any force in our universe that can control human life. Even the power of death, the Gospel says. That the power of God can control any force in our universe that would diminish any aspect of our lives.
Oh, I believe it took faith on Lazarus’ part to step forth when God called his name. And it takes faith on our parts, as well, to step forth when our names are called. But the Gospel of John, the 11th chapter, tells me that you and I are called to come out. We are called to come out of whatever tomb we might find ourselves in. To come out from whatever burdens have covered over us. We are called to come out and to allow the power of Christ to untie us and to free us and to allow the presence of the Spirit to remind us that we are not alone, whatever the difficulties might be that we face. We are not alone. For you see, the Spirit prays within us. You are one of the ones the Lord has loved. You are one of the ones he cries for, as he cried for Lazarus. And he wants you to live peacefully and fully with all that God intended way back in the garden with Adam and Eve.
So, my Brothers and Sisters, as those whom the Lord has loved, ever so much as he loved Lazarus, we must allow ourselves to be untied. We must allow the Lord of Life to free us, this day and always.
But before we stop, there is one other aspect of this Gospel that I keep hearing that we have to mention. It might be a little more than just the physical pains that we have felt from the tombs that have entrapped us. It is a note that could be uncomfortable, I know. You see, if there have been times that you have been in situations where you have bound other people up and entombed them, you need to repent of that. If there have been times when you have been the oppressor and have not liberated those around you, or times that your negativism or your criticism has destroyed the life around you, or times when your neglect -- either physical neglect or emotional neglect or spiritual neglect -- has violated the life of a family member or friend or co-worker, you must repent.
Oh, no matter what we have done, we must stop diminishing the lives of those around us. God help us if we have been instruments of death and destruction in this world, and allow us, Lord, the strength to rely on you. Allow us, Lord, to always love you and to live as you call us.
Let us pray. Lord, the ones that you have called by name are ill. They are bound with the burdens of life. They have been entombed by others, yet your Spirit truly calls us to come forth and to be set free. Lord, may our sickness not end in death for us, but rather may the power of your Spirit, who can do more than we can ask or imagine, untie us and set us free to live for you. For it is in Christ’s name we pray, Amen.
]]>There’s Mud in Your Eyetag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6362009-05-31T17:48:00Z2009-06-01T17:53:49ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.com John 9:1-7, 24-25 NRSV As he [Jesus] walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.” He answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
Bob Edens was blind for 51 years...he couldn’t see a thing. His world was a black hall of sounds and smells. He felt his way through five decades of darkness. And then, suddenly, he could see. A skilled surgeon performed a complicated operation and for the first time, Bob Edens had sight. And he found it overwhelming. He said, “I never would have dreamed that yellow is so…yellow! I just don’t have the words for it. I’m amazed by yellow. But red is my favorite color of all. I just can’t believe red. I can see the shape of the moon and I like nothing better than seeing a jet plane flying across the sky leaving a vapor trail. And of course, the sunrises and sunsets! You could never know how amazingly wonderful it is to see.” But I know; I was blind but now I see. (Max Lucado)
Our story today is about blindness and sight, about darkness and light. It is a story of how Jesus gave sight to a blind man.
The story begins as Jesus and his disciples are on their way to Jerusalem and they meet a man who has been blind since birth. And upon seeing the man, Jesus’ disciples treat the blind man, not as a man, not as someone in need, but as an example for a popular theological idea of the day that held that blindness was one of the ways that God punished the wicked. “Rabbi,” they ask, “who sinned -- this man or his parents -- that he was born blind?” For in that day, most people believed that when bad things happened it was because God was punishing them.
But Jesus didn’t buy into this way of thinking. When his disciples asked him who was at fault, Jesus said: “We’re not going there.” Instead, he reached down, took some dirt in his hand, spit into the dirt, made a little holy mud and smeared it into the man's eyes and said to the man, “Go wash your eyes in the pool of Siloam.”
The beggar felt his way to the pool, splashed water on his face and what happened next was like the first chapter of Genesis all over again, except just for this blind beggar. There was light where there had been nothing but darkness. I can almost see this once-blind man with his arms wide…looking up to the heavens…dancing around and around with a smile of wonder and joy on his face.
And I would love to leave him that way, but if what happens next in this man’s life could be compared to a cafeteria line, this man quickly steps from the choicest filet to overcooked Brussels sprouts. Look at the reaction of the people. This man encounters some of the most “joy-challenged, dream-squashing, fault-finding, slow-air leaks in the hot air balloon of life” people that you can ever imagine.
First, his neighbors! You’d think they would celebrate…after all, here was a man born blind, who no longer had to feel his way along…he could move freely without a white cane and you’d think they’d be overjoyed, welcome him back, throw a party. But they don’t rejoice; they debate. They’re not even sure he’s the same fellow. Again and again he tells them, “Yes, it’s me.” Then he adds: “A guy named Jesus made mud, rubbed it in my eye, and told me to go wash in the pool. I did. And now I can see.”
But they don’t celebrate! Instead, they march him down to the gathering preachers and theologians and ask them to interrogate him and sort things out.
So this once-blind man repeats his story for the benefit of the preachers and the theologians. And again, you’d expect celebration to break out, but no. Instead, when the preachers and theologians discover that what happened, happened not just any day, but on the Sabbath day, they said, “Hold on there; that’s not right. Healings aren’t supposed to happen on the Sabbath. You can’t break God’s law and be on God’s side at the same time.”
Well, someone suggested that maybe a miracle hadn’t taken place at all. Maybe he wasn’t blind after all…maybe it was a set-up…a hoax. Who would know if he was born blind? His parents would know! So they summon his parents.
The authorities ask them: “Is this your son, who says he was born blind?” By now any fool could see that Jesus has gotten himself into hot water with his healing of the blind man on the Sabbath and anyone who comes to his defense is likely to end up in the kettle with him. So mom and dad do the safe thing; they answer, “Yes, he’s our son; he was born blind; but as to how he now sees, we haven’t got a clue. If you want to know more, ask him; he can speak for himself.”
So, since his parents are of little help, the religious leaders call the man back and they say to him: “This fellow who supposedly healed you is nothing but a sinner.”
Now, the once-blind man had been a beggar all of his life; he hadn’t been to seminary. So he says, “Look, I don’t know whether he’s a sinner or not. I don’t know how any of this fits in with your laws and regulations…how it fits with your traditions or your orthodoxy. But I do know one thing, and I know it for sure. When I woke up this morning I woke up in a world of total darkness. And now the whole world is drenched in sunlight. All I know is that I was blind and now I see.”
It is a grand profession of faith; his witness is simple, yet profound…sensitive, yet courageous.
I think sometimes you and I are afraid that if we’re up front about our faith, that others might ask us some hard questions. They might ask us: how do you reconcile the presence of evil with the love of God…or what about other religions? Let me tell you: you don’t have to have all the answers.
You can say, “Those are great questions and I don’t have all the answers. I recall my pastor spoke to that but I can’t remember what he said. But there is one thing I know: I was blind but now I see. There was a time when I thought the world revolved all around me, but because of Jesus, I see that it’s not all about me. There was a time when I thought that this life was all there was and I was afraid of death, but I’m not afraid anymore. There was a time when I used to walk past people in need, and didn’t give ‘em a second thought, but now I see them and want to serve them because He touched my heart. There was a time when I thought I was all alone, but now I know that He is with me and I have peace. There was a time when I was blind, but now I see.”
It’s one of the most compelling witnesses in the New Testament, but it is also one of the most costly. For with those words, the religious leaders throw this once-blind man out and tell him never to come back. They excommunicate him! They ban him from the holy place. So, here’s this once-blind man, now able to see, but outside on the street.
And when Jesus hears that this man has been driven out of his congregation, Jesus goes to the man.
And if you ask me, there’s a second miracle in this story; it is the miracle of Jesus standing outside with the once-blind man who’d been doubted by his neighbors, dismissed by his parents, and interrogated and excommunicated by the religious leaders.
We’re left with a picture of Jesus and this man standing together outside the holy place…in a new place made holy because Jesus is standing there with him.
I think of the poem, “They drew a circle that shut me out…heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had a wit to win, we drew a circle that took him in.” (Edwin Markam)
You may have noticed that around here, we talk a lot about hospitality. Someone has said that a good Biblical definition of hospitality is making a space for someone you don’t have to make a space for. That’s a wonderful definition! Making a space for someone you don’t have to make a space for. It is going out of your way…going above and beyond! When that doesn’t happen -- when someone is left unwanted, ignored, excluded -- the result is that the person dies a little and God’s heart breaks a little. But when hospitality happens, it gives life. It promotes healing. And it becomes a sign of the presence of God and the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God.
At age five, John Gilbert was diagnosed with Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy, a genetic, progressive, cruel disease that would eventually destroy every muscle in his body and take his life. John died at the age of 25. Each year, John lost something more. One year it was his ability to run; he couldn't play sports with the other kids. Another year he could no longer walk straight. Then, he lost the ability to walk. Eventually, he lost the ability to speak. Toward the end of his life, he needed a machine just to help him breathe.
John knew something about the pain of being on the outside. In a book he wrote, he tells how junior high was the hardest era of his life. Other students used to humiliate him because of his condition. Bullies called him names and tortured him in the lunch room. No one ever stood up for him; maybe because they were afraid themselves.
But there were other, better moments. At one point he was named as a representative for everyone with his condition in the state of California. And there was the night when NFL and NBA players sponsored a fund-raising auction and dinner at which John was their guest.
When the auction began, one item particularly caught John's attention: a basketball signed by the players of the local NBA team. John got carried away, because when the ball came up for bids, he raised his hand. As soon as his hand went up, John's mother brought it down, because there was no way that they could pay the money that the ball was going to demand.
Quickly the bidding for the ball rose to an astounding amount. Eventually, one man named a figure that shocked everyone in the room and no one would match it. The man went to the front and collected his prize, but instead of returning to his seat, he walked across the room and placed it in the small hands of John Gilbert, the boy who had admired it so intently and had tried to bid for it. That man placed the ball in hands that would never dribble it down the court, throw it to a teammate on fast break, or fire it from 3-point range.
Of that experience John Gilbert wrote, “It took me a moment to realize what he’d done. I remember hearing gasps across the room, then thunderous applause and seeing folks wiping tears from their eyes. Have you ever been given a gift you could have never gotten for yourself? Has anyone ever sacrificed a huge amount for you without getting anything in return?”
That is precisely what has happened to the blind man; that’s what has happened for you and for me in Christ. And you and I are invited to receive that gift…then to become like Christ in offering that gift to others.
There’s one final thing about this story. All week long it bugged me. There was something that just wasn’t right about the story...something kept troubling me. Then it hit me: up until the end of the story, there’s no joy. If you were blind and Jesus healed you, wouldn’t you expect someone to say: “Man, this is wonderful! This is great! Let’s have a party!” I mean, what if it was your son or daughter? What if it were you? You’d be doing back flips and throwing a party! You’d be dancing for joy! But until the very end, there’s not an ounce of joy in the whole story. There should be joy here…there ought to be dancing and celebration and rejoicing.
When I think of joy, I think back to Lerner and Loewe’s musical, “My Fair Lady.” Set in 1912 London, Professor Higgins finds this urchin girl, Eliza, and transforms her into a sophisticated woman to become a part of London society. He transforms her into a beautiful, sophisticated, cultured woman.
And there’s an unforgettable scene when, having achieved what they’d sought, she’s introduced to London society. She speaks with proper diction; she carries herself in a way that causes heads to turn.
And Eliza and Professor Higgins decide to dance together. They are the picture of grace. Afterwards, on cloud nine, she sings a memorable song. The words are these:
I could have danced all night; I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more. I could have spread my wings and done a thousand things, I'd never done before. I'll never know what made it so exciting, why all at once my heart took flight; I only know when he began to dance with me, I could have danced, danced, danced all night.
Maybe one of the messages in the story of the once-blind man is the message to some of us up-tight, joy-challenged believers, “Don’t be reluctant to celebrate. Don’t be afraid to dance.” And don’t allow the “joy-challenged, dream-squashing, fault-finding, slow-air leaks in the hot air balloon of life” people to steal your joy or to slow your celebration.
For when you’ve seen the handiwork of God, when you’ve felt God’s grace and known God’s healing…when God has come to you, dried your tears or helped you see; when God has come into your place of darkness and brought you light…you, too, can sing:
I could have danced all night; I could have danced all night and still have begged for more. I could have spread my wings and done a thousand things, I'd never done before. I'll never know what made it so exciting, why all at once my heart took flight; I only know when HE began to dance with me, I could have danced, danced, danced.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay, The Gospel of John (Volume 2)
2. Frances Taylor Gench, Encounters with Jesus
3. Adam Hamilton, “Opening the Eyes of the Blind”
4. David Jones, “Getting to Easter: Walking in the Dark”
5. Max Lucado, Next Door Savior
6. Lloyd Ogilvie, The Bush is Still Burning
7. John Ortberg, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them
8. David H. Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary
9. Woody White, “I Could Have Danced All Night”
10. Tom Wright, John for Everyone
]]>Casting Stones or Dispensing Gracetag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6352009-05-24T16:36:01Z2009-05-26T16:41:20ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comJohn 8:2-11 NRSV Early in the morning he [Jesus] came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They 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. When 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.” And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
It is one of the most familiar and beloved stories in the New Testament. Most of you know the story. But even if you don’t, you can probably finish an often-used admonition that comes from it. It goes like this: “Let he who is without sin, do what?” Cast the first stone!
Let’s quickly rehearse the story’s details and get a bit of the back-story. A woman is brought to Jesus by a posse of moral police. They’re the righteous-religious; she’s a humiliated sinner. They say: “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery.” The first thing we wonder is: “Where’s the man?” After all, adultery requires two people. We get no answer, just their accusation: “Teacher, the law commands that we stone to death a woman who does this. What do you say we should do?” The law of Moses specified death by stoning, yet Roman law forbade Jews from carrying out executions. So will Jesus obey Moses or Rome? Will He condemn her or condone her sinful behavior? All eyes are on him.
The moment crackled with tension. But Jesus did the oddest thing! He bent down and with his finger he wrote in the dirt. We’re not told what he wrote. Cecil B. DeMille depicted him as spelling out names of various sins of those in the mob. Some say he wrote: “What about the man?” We really don’t know. What we do know is that after a time, he looked up and said to the men: “If any of you are without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone.”
Again he stooped and wrote in the dirt. The first to drop their stones are old men…they know themselves well. As they turned to leave, the young did likewise. The only sound is the thud of rocks hitting the ground and the shuffle of feet as the men walked away.
Jesus and the woman were alone. He asked her: “Woman, where are they? Has no one judged you guilty?” She answered, “No one, sir.” And Jesus preached to her what may be the shortest sermon in history. It is a masterful blending of truth, upholding the moral law and at the same time affirming the wonder of God’s grace. He said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”
It is a powerful story of second chance grace.
But what you may not know is that this story, itself, was given a second chance.
I have a Bible in which this story is printed in italics at the bottom of the page. It has a footnote: “not found in the earliest manuscripts of John’s Gospel.” In another Bible, you can find it at the end of the 8th chapter. Some even put it in Luke’s Gospel, contending that the story was more like Luke’s writing than John’s.
The truth is: nobody is quite certain where it goes because nobody is quite certain where it was.
If that puzzles you, let me explain. Our New Testament is based on the earliest or oldest manuscripts available. The older a manuscript of the New Testament is, the more reliable it is considered to be. The ones we have date from the 4th to the 6th centuries. There are seven such manuscripts from this period. But this story occurs in only one of those seven manuscripts, and that one, not one of the best. The other six omit it completely. Two, however, leave a blank space where it might have been or probably was at one time.
Questions abound and fascinate historians and scholars. And while we could rehearse some of their questions and theories, I see no reason to do so here. This much I’ll venture. To me, the issue is not that the story was added later, but that it was removed earlier. Why? Augustine gave a clue when in talking about the removal of this story, he uses the phrase “to avoid scandal,” suggesting that if Jesus did what this story says, some folks in church authority thought he shouldn't have. They thought that the story pictured Jesus as being too soft on sin. They felt the story was dangerous and might tempt people to sin.
But the story found its way back in, most likely as a way of countering the rigidness and judgmentalism of some of the early bishops and priests. And I think its advocates reasoned that while it’s possible for some to use this beautiful story of God’s grace as a license for sin … that is far less a danger than living in a world without grace. We need to tell and hear the stories of God’s great and extravagant grace. We need this story!
And as with every story in John, there are so many things that could be said, so many sermons that could be preached, but for today, I lift up two contrasting and powerful images that strike me in this story: The first is about casting stones; the second is about dispensing grace.
First, let’s think together about casting stones!
John Ortberg, in his book, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them, looks at men, the religious accusers in the story, those with stones in their hands, and asks: Why do churches produce so many who want to throw stones?
George Barna has done lots of research around the Christian faith and has consistently found that some of the main traits that people outside the church associate with those of us inside the church is that we tend to be judgmental and intolerant. Now, we may not see it that way, but so many outside the church see us that way…that we’d do well to examine ourselves. True or not, that’s the perception!
I know I’m constantly reminded how far I need to grow. Last week, I was driving near Winchester and Hacks Cross Road and somebody cut me off and I felt this surge of anger rise up in me. Then, I saw the driver do the same thing to someone else.
Do you ever get angry when you drive? I confess; I do. In moments like that I wonder: where are the police when you need them? I couldn't tell if the other person knew what they had done. I wanted so much just to tell them what I thought of ‘em! Give ‘em a piece of my mind! Just a couple of moments later, I pulled into a parking lot at Costco, and the other car pulled into that same parking lot and parked two spaces down. Now, you hardly ever get an opportunity like that! I got out and headed toward the woman who’d been driving the car. I said, “Hey, I want to tell you something.” She responded immediately. Her eyes got wide; she smiled and said, “Oh, you’re Reverend Rick Kirchoff! You preached at church when I visited on Sunday. What was it you wanted to tell me?" I said...“I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that you visited GUMC…I hope to see you again Sunday. Have a wonderful day! By the way, drive carefully; it’s crazy out there!”
By the way, don’t worry; she’s not here today…she said she’d be away for the holiday!
This incident got me to thinking. Somebody else does something wrong, violates a law, and especially if I’m offended or I get hurt by it, then I just want justice. I want them to get their comeuppance! I say: I sure hope they get what's coming to them. I do something wrong, I violate a rule and the blue light is flashing in my rear view mirror, and all of a sudden I'm not crying out for justice. I'd like some grace; I want some mercy.
And in the deepest sense of the word, you and I have been recipients of mercy and grace...tons of it!
Yet, have you noticed how often church folks -- right after they’ve received grace -- so quickly join up with moral vigilantes and become smug and self-righteous and pick up stones and hurl them with judgmental attitudes or gossip or lack of hospitality or by judging others by outward things?
Well, in today’s story, Jesus pulls the rug out from under us all. In a brilliant stroke of genius, he replaced our two assumed categories, the good and the bad, the guilty and the righteous, with two other very different categories: the guilty who acknowledge their wrong and the guilty who don’t. We’re all one or the other!
And with the rug of righteousness pulled from under us, we’re left only to assume there’s just no room for stone throwing in the community of guilty followers of Jesus.
And I begin to wonder what church might become if we all just put down our stones and took off our masks of superiority and acknowledged our sin and in the process became less judgmental and more gracious?
If that happened, I think more and more that the church would become a place where other sin-filled, messed up, mistake-making, grace-needing people would flock to find hospitality, hope, healing and home.
But it’ll only happen when Christians have the courage to look at the stones in their hands and say, “I won’t throw stones…because I, too, am a sin-filled, messed up, mistake-making, grace-needing person; so I refuse to ever again throw a stone at anyone!”
Our mission, as followers of Christ, is to drop the stones of judgment and give grace away. Give it away. Be distributors of grace!
After all, it’s the one thing Christians have to offer the world that’s hard to find anywhere else.
You don’t have to be a Christian to be a moral person. You don’t have to be a Christian to build homes for the homeless or feed the poor or donate to charity. You don’t have to be a Christian to try to effect political change or pass social legislation.
The grace of Christ is the one thing that the church has to offer that’s so hard to find anywhere else!
It’s the grace revealed in Jesus’ words: “If any of you are without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone.” It’s the grace in Jesus’ words: “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”
When we talk about grace, we’re talking about how our very relationship with God is a matter of grace, a gift, a free, unmerited gift. If we had to stand before God on our own strength, our moral character, our merit, none of us would be able to do it. We are all flawed and broken. We all need grace!
When I was in graduate school preparing for ministry, in one course on urban ministry we were assigned to spend some time in criminal court, simply observing what was happening there. What I noticed was that the real criminal court is not like on TV. In the real criminal court, most defendants have been there numerous times and the question for them is not will they be found innocent or guilty -- most expect to be found guilty. The question is: Who’s the judge? Because some judges are harsh in their judgment and some temper their judgment with compassion and mercy; they’re hoping for a judge who’ll give them some mercy.
The Apostle Paul once imagined that all of us were in court, God’s court, standing there knowing that we’re guilty and wondering who’s the judge. And the door to the judge’s chambers opens and the judge is none other than Jesus who died for us and loved us to the end and loves us still and is our advocate. And the verdict that day was a surprise. We’re guilty, but Jesus’ verdict was, “Innocent.”
He said: “Neither do I condemn you; go and leave your life of sin.”
When you’ve experienced this kind of grace down at the depths of your being, you know that everything you are and everything you have comes as a gift, a gift of grace.
Awhile back, there was a news story about a luxury apartment building in a fancy neighborhood where it was discovered that some of the residents of the apartments were on public assistance. They were what we used to call welfare folks.
Well, when that news came out, the homeowners in that fashionable section of town were outraged. They didn’t want their property values coming down so they demanded and got a public hearing.
It was on the TV news, and the first person to go to speak was a young mother with a baby on her hip. Her story was that when she got pregnant, her boyfriend took the car and left, leaving her with nothing. After the baby was born she managed to get a job as a maid in a local motel but if she didn’t have an apartment, she couldn’t have a job and if she didn’t have a job, she couldn’t feed her baby. And she begged for the assistance to continue.
Next, to the microphone came a homeowner who said he and his wife had poured their life savings into their home and they wanted their investment protected. He turned and looked at the young mother with the baby and said, “I understand how you feel, but I earned mine and you’re going to have to earn yours.”
Well, when you and I have experienced the amazing grace of God, you can never look another human being in the face again and say, “I earned mine; you’re going to have to earn yours.” Because you know that everything you have is a gift of God. Everything is a gift of grace. Everything!
I’m left wondering...wondering what the church would be like if more and more Christians dropped their stones of judgment and instead chose to be dispensers of grace!
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay, The Gospel of John (Volume 2)
2. Frances Taylor Gench, Encounters with Jesus
3. Thomas Long, “Amazing and Uncomfortable Grace”
4. John Ortberg, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them
5. John Ortberg, “Who Matters to God?”
6. David H. Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary
7. Leonard Sweet, 11 Indispensable Relationships You Can’t Be Without
8. Tom Wright, John for Everyone
9. Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace?
]]>Take Up Your Mat and Walktag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6342009-05-17T20:34:01Z2009-05-20T20:37:52ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comLet us pray. Dear Lord God, right now, we thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to be gathered one more time in your sanctuary. Lord, right now we ask that you send your Holy Spirit down and into each and every one of us; and Lord, I ask especially that you send your Holy Spirit so that it will guide my mouth, my tongue, my heart, so that everything I say will be done and said to glorify You, Lord. So let your power in me increase, while the Deborah you bless, decrease. It is in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
John 5:2-15 NIV Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie – the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”
Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.”
But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’
So they asked him, “Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?” The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there. Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well.
This is the Word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
Here we are again, Brothers and Sisters, another Sunday and talking about water! Just last Sunday, Pastor Rick talked about the woman at the well who was there to draw water to drink when she encountered Jesus, who was the only one who could offer her an alternative; and that was Living Water, which was far better than the regular water that she was there seeking.
Today, we see another person waiting for water. But this time, the water is not supposed to be for drinking, but for healing. We are looking at healing water.
It is this focus on healing and water that reminds me of another place in our time, right now, that could very well be our pool at Bethesda. This is a place that is visited by countless people as a place where individuals go yearly...daily...seeking relief and healing for some part of their body; or relief from some ailment. This place that I speak of is practically in our own backyard because it is so close...our very own pool at Bethesda. You may say: What is it? Where is it? This place also has water and this place that people journey to is Hot Springs, Arkansas. You see, people have used the hot springs there for more than 200 years to treat illnesses and to help people relax tired muscles. The mineral waters of the springs have a reputation for healing illnesses and afflictions for those who drink it, or even for those who bathe in the waters. People from all walks of life have journeyed to the legendary springs seeking a cure for their ailments. I even suspect that there may be a few of you here today who have already visited Hot Springs in hopes of getting some kind of relief from an ache or a pain.
If you recall here in the Scripture that was read today, some of us might be thinking -- and rightfully so -- you know what...that does sound a little bit like the pool at Bethesda. You see, the water at Bethesda was thought to be a place also where miraculous healing could occur if the person were in the water at the right place and at the right time, being first in the pool at Bethesda.
You see, here in the Gospel of John, we are told that there are a great number of disabled people who would lie day in and day out with the slimmest hope of healing based on a random -- a very random -- miracle associated with a disturbance of the waters of the pool.
Isn’t this so like the water in Hot Springs? The chances of being healed are based on a very slim chance of hope and some form of miracle that even to this day, some believe may be found in the spring water.
I want to take a moment to share with you my first encounter with the water from Hot Springs. You see, when I was fifteen -- and as you know, that wasn’t that long ago -- my father announced to my sister and me (the two eldest) that he and my mother would be taking this fabulous trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas.
I didn’t think much about the trip or Hot Springs until our parents returned. We watched them unpack and distribute souvenirs, but I also paid attention to the bottles of water that they were unloading from the car. They were being very careful with them and smiling as if they had brought home something quite valuable.
I overheard my father tell my mother to start calling everybody to come and get the water. He had a special container for my grandmother and one of my mother’s dearest friends. Well, curiosity got the best of me when I found myself alone in the kitchen with the water. I decided to drink some of the water. It was important that my father not know that I had taken some of his most precious water, so I took three of those jars and poured a little bit from each one until I had about _ of a juice glass full.
Then, being very careful, I looked around to make sure no one could see me, and I quickly gulped it down. But something strange happened. I began looking at my arms and my face because I thought something was going to happen, but nothing did. Later, I heard my mom and dad talking about how the water was going to help my aunt with her arthritis and how the other lady should be able to conceive and have a baby. I panicked.
I saw my grandmother later that day and I told her I had drunk the water. She looked at me and held my hand and said, “Well, I hope you got everything you were looking for.” I was speechless.
I suppose the man, the invalid, by the pool in Bethesda had been told that countless times: “I hope you get everything you’re looking for,” because we know from Scripture that he had been going to the pool of Bethesda, which means the House of Mercy -- but Bethesda was a place that appeared to be full of sickness and misery and not a place of mercy.
This was a place where sick people gathered because they believed that they could be healed by getting into the water first whenever it was stirred. They all were there hoping to be the recipient of a random miracle. But you see, there was nothing random on the day that the invalid met Jesus at the pool. Jesus walked over to him and asked the invalid one basic question: “Do you want to be healed?”
Now, I know you may be saying that is a dumb question, but, no, not really. First of all, we all know of people who profess to want help out of their circumstances, but really they want help to stay in it. We are talking about a man who had been an invalid for 38 years and probably had his own routines, friends, and unique view of the world.
This reminds me of the movie called, “At First Sight.” It was the story of a man who had been blind his whole life. His sister had “sacrificed” much of her life to be his support system. They lived in a small town that he had memorized so that he could get around. He had a good way to make money, and everything was fine, until he fell in love with a sighted woman who became focused on helping him regain his sight.
She introduced him to a surgeon who gives him his sight, and that’s when the trouble starts. Having sight all of a sudden after 30 years of blindness is quite a shock to this man and his mind. He was thrown into serious shock. He was basically still disabled because he didn’t know how to drive and he was accustomed to people doing things for him. His whole life was very troubling because he was “healed.” And in talking about the man at the pool of Bethesda, he, too, had grown accustomed to people doing things for him. We are talking about 38 years!
During this time period, crippled people might have made a good living from begging. Jobs were scarce in Jesus’ day, and having been sick for 38 years, the man knew nothing else but begging. Perhaps fear hindered his rush into the healing waters, or the dread of responsibility. We know that something is stopping him here other than the fact that he is an invalid.
When you reflect on the situation, the invalid has apparently been there for quite some time waiting on the waters and we really don’t know how many times he had actually made an attempt to get in the waters or whether or not he had even tried to devise a plan where he could be first in the water. Whatever the circumstances that had been preventing him from being first in the water, there was Jesus, the living water, the healer, the physician standing near him waiting on an answer to the question, “Do you want to be healed?”
But what does the invalid do? He gives excuses; he complains, as he tells Jesus how he has no one to help him and how the stronger ones who need the water the least run past him and get in first. He blames others for his ongoing predicament.
If we really look at his excuses, we can really sense the depth of what he is really feeling. We can hear him say, I have no friends -- “I’m friendless” when he utters the words, “no one to help me.” The invalid goes on to say, “I’m frustrated.” Someone else goes down ahead of me. His focus is so much on himself and the pool that he doesn’t even recognize Jesus.
What about us today, Brothers and Sisters? Where is your pool (problems/challenges) -- the place where you are stuck, frustrated, and feeling friendless? The place where you can’t even hear Jesus ask, “Do you want to be healed? Do you want to be made whole?”
If you are the one who is paralyzed by past hurts, Jesus asks, “Do you want to be healed?”
If you are the one who is battling some kind of addiction or disappointment, Jesus asks you, “Do you want to be healed?”
If you are the one who is so angry and you have forgotten how to forgive and be forgiven, Jesus asks you the question: “Do you want to be healed?”
You see, the question doesn’t sound so simple when each one of us sitting here today has to answer. We get used to our weaknesses and disabilities. Our discomfort becomes comfortable once everything in our life is ordered around it. It’s then easier for us to see how we can’t be healed or how that healing can’t really improve anything than to see what the healing really can do. But, in spite of our answer or our lack of response, Jesus still blesses each one of us according to God’s plan for our lives.
Just as the invalid never answered Jesus’ question, Jesus overlooked that and told the invalid to do something that he had been trying to do for most of his life: “Get up. Pick up your mat and walk.” At the same time, he gave the invalid a choice: whether he would live in that healing or continue to live where he was comfortable, letting others do everything for him. The man chose to pick up his mat and walk.
The invalid was healed because he did exactly what Jesus told him to do. Here was this invalid walking, carrying his mat, and cured. This is the one who earlier had said, “I don’t have anybody.” The invalid did not realize at the point of his healing who Jesus was; it wasn’t until later that he learned that it was Jesus. It was probably at that point that the invalid realized that in Jesus we really do have somebody -- not someone who will carry us around on our mats of self-pity, hurt, shame, or sorrow, but someone who can bring life to our troubled and confused souls, bring healing to all our damaged emotions, bring strength to our own resolve, someone who can say with all power and authority: “Take up your mat and walk!”
We believe as followers of Jesus, that when we are in difficulties, or unwell, distressed or hurt, our faith has a part to play in restoring us to wholeness again. This story about the man at the pool of Bethesda reminds us that when in faith we turn to Jesus for healing, he may very well look deep into our soul and ask: “Do you want to be made whole?”
Our challenge, perhaps, is to think about what changes we might have to make, what dated ideas we would have to relinquish, what baggage we can dump and get rid of, and what beliefs or biases we can discard, to help us fully see what wholeness of life can mean if we truly seek that wholeness through Jesus Christ.
Jesus is calling each one of us to wholeness -- to a healing. But what does wholeness mean? It may mean that we will have to change by opening our hearts and minds to the presence and power of Jesus Christ. Will you continue to hold on to the things that hold you back? Will you continue to blame others and offer worthless excuses? Will you listen to Jesus and reach for something beyond yourself? Will you get up, take up your mat and walk this day? Jesus is waiting on your answer.
Let us pray. Dear Lord God, we thank you right now for coming into our midst, Lord, and opening up our hearts and minds. We thank you for your Word, we thank you for your love, we thank you for your grace. It is in your Son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. James D. G. Dunn & John W. Rogerson (eds), Commentary on the Bible (2003). Grand Rapids MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company
2. Bob Hostetler, The Healing Choice, sermon.
3. Hot Springs National Park (U.S. National Park Service) – http://www.nps.gov/hosp
4. The New Interpreter’s Bible – A Commentary in Twelve Volumes (2000). Nashville TN: Abington Press.
]]>The Penguin and the Polar Beartag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6292009-05-10T20:58:00Z2009-05-11T21:11:10ZDonna Thurmonddthurmond@germantownumc.org John 4:3-30; 39-42 NRSV [Jesus] left Judea and started back to Galilee But he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”
Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him.
Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
Newspapers and magazines sometimes run a special feature entitled, “What’s Wrong with this Picture?” There’s something in the picture that’s odd or out of place or not as it should be, and they want you to find it…it’s kind of like the picture of the penguins and the polar bear in today’s bulletin. Have you figured it out? What’s wrong with this picture? Yes, there’s a penguin with cymbals who is about to wake up a sleeping bear! There’s something wrong with that! And yes, there’s a penguin carrying a purse! But there’s something even more basic. Do you see it?
Penguins live in the southern hemisphere; polar bears live in the northern hemisphere. Polar bears live in the Arctic; penguins live in the Antarctic. They live poles apart!
I share that with you this morning because the story that we find in the fourth chapter of John’s gospel -- the story of Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan woman at the well -- is just about that way. There are several things that are, in a sense, “odd” or out of place. They may not seem odd or out of place at first glance, but when we see oddities, we understand how radical and profound and counter-cultural this story was to its first readers and even for us, today.
So what’s odd in the story? Let me point to three! For starters, Jesus and his entourage are walking from Judea back to Capernaum, in Galilee, in the north. John says, “(Jesus) had to go through Samaria.” But if you know the geography of Israel, you know that wasn’t so. You don’t “have to” go through Samaria to get from Judea to Galilee. In Jesus’ day, you only went there if you wanted to, and no devout Jew wanted to.
Why? Because Jews wanted nothing to do with Samaritans. And Samaritans wanted nothing to do with Jews. Even though they were neighbors, though they lived just miles apart, they lived their lives like penguins and polar bears: living poles apart from one another.
For something like 700 years, Jews and Samaritans had argued over religion and politics and generally hated one another. Jews distanced themselves from Samaritans, wouldn’t worship with them or drink or eat with them, and thought of them as inferior…racially and religiously.
A second oddity is that Jesus is alone talking to a strange woman. But Jesus was a rabbi, a Jewish holy man and no devout Jewish man would have allowed himself to be alone with a woman who wasn’t his wife. And he certainly wouldn’t have entered into a conversation with her.
A third oddity about the story is that the normal time for women to visit the well would be in the cool of the day -- the first thing in the morning or late in the afternoon. This woman came at noon, in the heat of the day.
With that background, look again at the story. It was noon and Jesus was tired and thirsty. His friends had gone to town to buy lunch, leaving him alone beside the well. A Samaritan woman approached with her bucket. Jesus asked her for a drink.
A peculiar conversation ensues.
Jesus asks: “May I have a drink?” She says, “Jews don’t drink with Samaritans!” He responds: “I can give you living water.” She replies: “How can you do that? You don’t even have a bucket!” He says, “If you drink the living water I offer, you’ll never be thirsty again.” She says, “Then I’ll have some.” They talk about religion. They talk about her marital status, which he somehow knows about. We discover that she’s a much married and divorced woman, five times, in fact…and now she is living with a man who’s not her husband!
Suddenly you know why she’s at the well at noon, in the heat of the day. Other folks went in the cool of the morning or evening, but other folks wanted nothing to do with this woman; they looked down on her, whispered about her or make snide comments.
It’s then that Jesus’ disciples returned. And when they saw Jesus talking with this woman they were astonished that Jesus, a Jew, their rabbi, was sharing a drinking cup with a Samaritan woman.
But the woman was so taken with Jesus, she wondered if he could be the Messiah and when he says, “I am,” she dropped her water bucket and ran to town to tell anyone who would listen about this amazing man.
And so the whole Samaritan town comes out to see Jesus and an astonishing thing happens. Remember, Jews hate Samaritans and Samaritans hate Jews. But these Samaritans invite Jesus, a Jewish rabbi and his Jewish companions to stay with them and they do...for two days. John tells us that the Samaritans believed in him and said, “We know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”
Now, what does this story say to us? What does it ask of us?
First, notice that in this powerful story Jesus pushed beyond seven centuries of religious divisiveness, racial prejudice, gender marginalization and moral exclusivism to show how God’s kingdom on earth is meant to look.
In fact, this story illustrates what we read in John 3:16. You remember! “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
That’s in John 3:16 and this is John 4, right after that. God so loves who? The world, not just the Jews, but whosoever! And we discover that whosoever includes Samaritans and by the end of John 5, that whosoever will include Roman soldiers, Gentiles, Greeks, and you and me.
Let me give this a little bit of further background for you so that you understand it even better. In John 4, there’s an echo of three very familiar stories from Hebrew scripture. It’s the boy meets girl at the well story. Isaac, Jacob and Moses all met their wives at the well. The biblical pattern was that these men each journeyed to a foreign land, where each encountered a beautiful virgin at the well. The girl rushed home with news of the stranger’s arrival. Then the two were betrothed and married.
That same biblical pattern begins to unfold here. But that familiar story gets a radical new twist. Jesus travels to Samaria, a foreign land, and like his predecessors, he meets a woman at the well. Only the woman Jesus meets is not a beautiful maiden but a much married and divorced woman. After their meeting, this woman rushes home to share the news of this stranger, but here there’s no betrothal or marriage, rather a transformation of her life and the conversion of a Samaritan village.
Here’s what you mustn’t miss about this story. In the familiar stories of Israel’s past, Isaac, Jacob and Moses met and chose beautiful young virgins. But in this story, who does Jesus meet and love? A Samaritan, an outcast, a much married and divorced woman who’s now living with a sixth man who’s not even her husband.
Given a picture of the heart of God, a picture of those Jesus chooses to love…the picture of a God who chooses to love people who are outcast and broken and who have made a mess of their life. And the question the story asks us is: How are we doing at loving such people?
Let me ask you! Who are the people that you feel most uncomfortable being around? Who is it that you don’t like? Who are the people that if you could, you’d avoid?
If you’re a liberal, it may be conservatives. If you’re a conservative, it may be liberals. If you’re a Republican, it’s probably democrats or visa-versa. If you live in the suburbs, it may be people in the inner city. If you’re a son or daughter of the confederacy, it may be Yankees. If you’re black…it might be whites; if you’re white…maybe it’s blacks. If you’re a UT football fan, it may be Alabama. If you’re a University of Memphis basketball fan, it’s probably Kentucky basketball.
Some of our divisions are silly and trivial. But some are deadly serious. This story tells us that Jesus and those who follow Jesus…are to be about tearing down walls that divide.
That’s what Jesus does! Jo Mercer sent me a poem this week that spoke powerfully to me.
I was shocked, confused, bewildered as I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all, nor the lights nor its decor.
But it was the folks in Heaven who made me sputter and gasp—
The thieves, the liars, the sinners, the alcoholics and the trash.
There stood the kid from 7th grade who swiped my lunch money…twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor who never said anything nice.
Herb, who I always thought was rotting in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine, looking incredibly well.
I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal? I would love to hear your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here? God must've made a mistake.
And why is everyone so quiet, so somber -- give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' God said, 'they're all in shock. No one thought they'd be seeing you.'
The profound question we’re left with is this: Just who are the people that you’d be shocked to see in heaven? Part of Jesus’ message in John 4 is this: that person -- the one that you’d be shocked to see in heaven -- is someone Jesus loves just as much as he loves you. How are you doing at loving such people?
That brings us to the gift that Jesus offers this woman. He offers her living water. This is one of the many metaphors in John’s gospel. In week one of this series, it was wine; two weeks ago it was new birth. Last week, it was bread. This week, it is living water.
Jesus is drawing on an image of God that’s found in Jeremiah 2:13, where God says, “my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and dug out cracked cisterns that can hold no water.”
The message, of course, is that this is the human condition. God gives living water, but we dig cracked cisterns. Jesus knew our tendency to do that. Jesus saw it in this woman. He saw the spiritual thirst inside her that she’d been trying to quench.
And how had she been doing that? He says to her: “Go get your husband.” She says, “I’m not married!” Jesus says, “Right…you’re married and divorced five times and the man you’re living with is not your husband.”
Jesus wants her to understand that she’s been digging cisterns that can’t hold water. Five times she tried and thought she’d found it; five times her heart had been broken and she was left even more thirsty.
The woman at the well had thought: “If I can just find a man, the right man, then I’ll be filled.” Then, it became: “If I can just find any man, it’ll be okay.”
For many people today, it’s still true: “If I can just find the right man, the right woman; if I can just find the perfect guy or the perfect girl…I’ll be happy.” But you know what? If you get married thinking that spouse will provide you with living water and fill your emptiness, you’re going to end up terribly disappointed and be even more empty. You can’t be living water to another person…only God can be that.
Or maybe it’s not the quest for a perfect man or woman. Maybe we think…if I can just move to a better place, get the right job, make more money…that’ll fill me up...quench the thirst in my soul. Or we think...if I just get that car…or that new house or that new whatever. And we chase things…hoping that our fulfillment of our dream will fill us up…but a few months later…it hits us. That’s not it!
There’s a thirst in you that God has given you…and only God can satisfy that thirst.
Staci grew up in a privileged home; her dad was a CEO and her mom was a successful realtor. She had everything she ever wanted, but even as a little girl, she remembered feeling very empty.
At around age 14 or 15, Staci realized she could get all the attention she craved if she gave boys what they most wanted. She gave herself away over and over. Her promiscuous lifestyle opened the door to drugs, alcohol and an abortion.
Then one day she found a profession that gave her all the money she desired if she would just give men the same attention that she had given to boys. She went to work for an escort service. She thought she was finally in control of her life. But one night she was arrested in a sting operation and went to jail. She thought: “How did I get to this place? How did I come to this?” She began to pray for direction in her life.
One Sunday she was looking out her window, watching people going to church. She said, “I felt something so strong…like a voice saying, ‘Come, just as you are. Come.’”
So the next Sunday, Staci went to that church. And one of the first things she heard the pastor say was that Jesus came for the irreligious, the unholy, for the prostitutes and outcasts and the broken ones.
This took her breath away. When he said “prostitute,” she thought, “Does he know who I am?” Then, the pastor said, “If in this moment, you’d like to receive Jesus and begin to follow him, I want to invite you just to say ‘YES’ under your breath, because God hears you. God knows who you are and where you are.” She did. She said yes.
And she says, “When I said ‘yes’ to Jesus, I literally felt the chains drop off of my body. I felt…freedom…. I felt much like the woman at the well, where she…goes to tell her friends, 'Hey, there’s this man, and he… knows everything that I’ve done. And he loves me anyway. At that moment…it was as if love came and touched my heart, and I knew that was what I (had been) looking for all my life.”
John wants us to see the wondrous truth about Jesus. Jesus is the one who tears down all of the walls that divide. He’s the one who loves people who are outcast and broken and have made a mess of life. He’s the one that you’ve been looking for and in whom you find all of life that you need. He is the living water.
Let us pray. O God, we thank you today that you are here and speaking to us. Gather up your people and all of our needs and speak to us of that amazing community that you are seeking to form and help us to extend your love. Where we are broken and hungry and empty and thirsty, and hunger for something new, speak to us and fill us with living water. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay, The Gospel of John
2. John M. Buchanan, “Astonished”
3. Frances Taylor Gench, Encounters with Jesus
4. Adam Hamilton, “Jesus and the Divorcee”
5. Luke Timothy Johnson, Jesus and the Gospels, Part 2
6. http://www.cbn.com/700club/features/amazing/lifestyle_staci_nicholson112003.aspx?option=print
7. David H. Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary
8. Tom Wright, John for Everyone, Part One
]]>Eat This Breadtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6302009-05-03T21:12:00Z2009-05-11T21:18:16ZDonna Thurmonddthurmond@germantownumc.org Let us pray. O God, our Guide and our Guardian, you have led us apart from the busy world into the quiet of your house. Grant us grace to worship you in Spirit and in truth, for the up-building of every good purpose and Holy desire. Enable us to hear and understand your Holy Word. Grant that the words of my mouth may be your Word, and the meditations of all of our hearts may be acceptable in your sight. May we be changed by the hearing of your Word so that we would worship you not just with our lips at this hour, but in word and deed all of our lives. For Christ’s sake, Amen.
We turn this morning to John, chapter 6, which begins with the story of the feeding of the 5,000 – the only miracle story that appears in all of the Gospels, and then is followed by Jesus retreating to himself when he realizes that the crowd is about to crown him king. When evening comes, the disciples get into a boat and start across the sea to Capernaum. About halfway across, they see Jesus coming toward them walking on the water, and he gets into the boat and they land at Capernaum. The next day the crowd gets into boats and comes across the sea looking for Jesus. Listen now for the Word of the Lord.
John 6:25-27; 30-35; 47-57; 61-63 NRSV When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.”
So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
“Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”
But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”
May God bless to our understanding his Holy Word.
A large crowd is following Jesus because they have seen the signs that he is doing for the sick. Now they have followed him up a mountain, where there is no bread to buy, and it is Passover. So, a boy’s lunch of five barley loaves -- the cheapest bread you can buy -- and two pickled sardine-like fish...satisfies everyone there. And then, Jesus walks on the sea -- even though the waters are rough and there is a strong wind blowing -- on the water, the traditional symbol of chaos over which God alone has power, even the waters are controlled by this Rabbi -- and he says to his disciples who were terrified, Ego emi -- I AM, do not be afraid. The same construction that God responded to Moses when he asked God’s name...and the same reassurance given each time the divine draws near – do not be afraid.
John doesn’t want you to miss the layers of meaning here. This is not a story about a miraculous lunch and a fancy way to not worry about missing your boat. Passover, a wilderness mountain, not great bread and a little bit of meat that strangely satisfy, waters that are crossed, I AM...we are supposed to hear the Exodus -- we are supposed to hear liberation, deliverance.
And in case we miss it, John goes on to explain the layers of meaning as Jesus talks with the crowd the next day, as Jesus shares with them the first of the I AM statements -- I am the Bread of Life. One scholar (Ruland) compared the layers of metaphor and symbolism and images to a kaleidoscope...and as I studied this passage, I found that to be an apt description. Every time you think you are about to understand, every time you think you are about to see clearly what is being revealed about Jesus, the colors shift, the parts mix around and you realize that what you were looking at can be seen differently. I say that to say, this is one of those “now we see through glass, dimly” passages. But, let us take a look.
First, the crowd comes and finds Jesus...he’d given them the slip the day before when they were ready to make him king.... “Teacher, when did you come here?” Jesus knows why they are looking for him -- they want security. They want to make him king because he fed them...if their food source was secured, their life would be easy.
You’re looking for me because you got your belly full yesterday, not because of the signs you’ve seen -- there’s more to life than a full belly. “Until they recognize who Jesus really is, they may be fed with bread and fish, but there is a deep hunger inside them which will never be satisfied.”
This is a truth in life -- you can work to satisfy your physical needs -- but you will never have enough to be satisfied. Only when your spiritual hunger is fed will you live a life of satisfaction.
But the crowd is looking for a list of what works they are supposed to do, and they are looking for signs so that they can believe Jesus -- they remind him that Moses gave the Israelites manna. Jesus responds that the manna that the Israelites ate didn’t come from Moses, it came from God, and the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. They are with him, “Sir, give us this bread always.”
And then he goes and says he is that bread, that he came down from heaven and he is here to do the Father’s will, and that anyone who believes in him will be satisfied and live in the unending presence of God and on the last day, Jesus says, “I will raise them up.”
Now, the crowd is not with him. They start complaining because he said he came down from heaven -- they remember who he is -- he didn’t come down from heaven, he’s Joseph’s son, we know his mother, they grumble.
So, he tries to explain it another way. “Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life, lives now in the unending presence of God. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died -- they didn’t realize it came from God, and they didn’t live in the unending presence of God. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The word he uses for eat literally means “crunch” -- a munching, crunching, chewing word for eat.
“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” they ask. “Those who crunch my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” Now, even the disciples are disgusted. Cannibalism, is that what he’s suggesting? “Who can accept it? This is more than we can stomach,” they grumble.
It was absolutely forbidden by Jewish law to eat or drink blood. We are a bit squeamish about eating or drinking blood ourselves...I know children who are reluctant to take communion because we say that it is the body and blood of Jesus. Last month, a preschooler commented to his dad as they were walking back to their pew, “That was yummy blood.” The disciples and the crowd were that concrete in their understanding of what Jesus was saying.
What is John trying to teach the reader of his Gospel here? What are we supposed to do in response to Jesus’ teaching us to drink his blood and eat his flesh? First, we are supposed to be reminded of communion. When we receive communion, we are to remember Jesus. But John wants us to be sure we don’t just remember that Jesus was a nice man, or a good teacher, or even a prophet...remember, John is trying to reveal who Jesus is.
There is a story about King David that the people and the crowd and disciples would have known, that perhaps we have forgotten. The Philistines had occupied Bethlehem, David’s native town. King David and his men were pinned down one day, and David longed for a drink, and said out loud how much he would like to have water from the well at Bethlehem -- which, of course, was not possible because of the Philistines. Well, David had three particularly heroic and loyal men who would do whatever he asked...and off they went, broke through the Philistine army, got water from the well at Bethlehem and brought it back to David. But King David wouldn’t drink it. He said, “God forbid that I should drink the blood of these men, who went at the risk of their lives.” He poured the water out on the ground because he didn’t want to be seen to profit from these men’s readiness to put their lives on the line for him. (Wright)
When we remember Jesus, and drink the cup of communion, we remember and accept that He put his life on the line for us. And the second thing we are supposed to do in response to Jesus’ teaching us to drink his blood and eat his flesh is to know Jesus as the bread of life.
Bread was essential for life. While today we think of the carbs and fat, and eat bread as a side item...bread was the main food you ate to fill yourself up. “Where there is no bread, life cannot flourish.” (Gench) Jesus is “the essential.”
Jesus tells us how to have life -- “come to me,” “believe in me,” “eat me.” “Take my life inside you -- allow me to live in you.”
Have you ever read a great book or watched a movie that stayed with you long after the credits rolled? Before you read, before you watched, even if you knew the story, it had not changed you. But you are moved by the story as you enter it, and it sticks to you. The characters and great lines remain in your memory and you can call them up from inside yourself and remember. You can think about it and feed your mind and your heart on it. (Barclay)
That’s what Jesus is asking us to do. “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” This is not food that fills you temporarily and then you are looking for food again -- this is food that stays with you. Eat this bread...See the world with my eyes, love with my love, extend your hand with my grace. Drink this cup...”all the unsatisfied longings, all the insatiable desires of the heart and the soul are gone.” (Barclay) And you will live in the unending presence of God. That is eternal life.
Let us pray. Lord, feed us with your body and blood. Let us have your life in us so that through our actions and deeds, others might see and come to you. Feed us, Lord, so that we might live in the unending presence of God, which is eternal life both now, and always. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay, The Gospel of John, Volume 1, in The Daily Study Bible Commentary Series
2. The Renovare Spiritual Formation Bible’s notes on John and the “With-God” Life
3. Tom Wright’s John for Everyone, Part 1
4. Gail R. O’Day and Susan E. Hylen’s John in the Westminster Bible Companion Series
5. Frances Taylor Gench’s Women and the Word: Studies in the Gospel of John
6. Ruland, S.J., Vernon, "Sign and Sacrament: John's Bread of Life Discourse," Interpretation, 1964.
]]>Nick at Nighttag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6282009-04-27T01:12:00Z2009-05-11T20:55:38ZDonna Thurmonddthurmond@germantownumc.org
Introduction to John -- In this series, Close Encounters, we are focusing on ten very special encounters Jesus had with people that are recorded only in John’s Gospel.
As we move further into this series, there are four things I invite you to keep in mind about John’s Gospel: 1st -- the uniqueness of John; 2nd – John’s emphasis on the identity of Jesus; 3rd -- layers of meaning and multiple metaphors, and 4th – the answer to the question: Is it worth it?
The first is Uniqueness: John is unique among the four gospels. John is the latest of the four gospels, probably written around the year 90. And it is a different kind of gospel than Matthew, Mark, and Luke, which are known as synoptic gospels because they tell the story of Jesus in much the same way, with similar content, order, wording and stories. One writer called John the Maverick Gospel. While I wouldn’t go that far, clearly John doesn’t conform to the pattern of the other three; John sounds different, has different stories, doesn’t include parables or the stories of Jesus’ birth, baptism or temptation. There’s nothing of the Last Supper or Gethsemane.
So, even the most casual reader will sense that John is very different. Its picture of Jesus is much more exalted. Instead of a humble birth story, as in Matthew and Luke, the prologue of John speaks of the pre-existence of Christ, the Word made flesh. There’s no “Messianic Secret” as in Mark. In John, Jesus is openly and unequivocally the Son of God. That brings me to the second thing that’s distinctive in John.
Second, the emphasis is on The Identity of Jesus. John leaves nothing to chance. He wants to be sure that we get it: Jesus is the Messiah; he is Lord. John tells us that Jesus was with God at the beginning of creation. He is the Word made flesh. He is divine and human and He is with us forever through the Holy Spirit. But John wants us to understand that Jesus was not just some disembodied, angelic spirit. He was a flesh and blood human being, who walked the earth, but at the same time, is the incarnation of God, the presence of God in time and history.
At the end of chapter 20, John tells us his purpose: “Jesus did other signs in the presence of his disciples which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe and continue to believe that he is the Messiah, the Son of God, and in believing, have life in his name.” John clearly is not out to say the same things as Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but to explain who Jesus is and to remind every reader that life with God and life in all its fullness flows out of a relationship with Jesus.
A third thing to remember in John is the Layers of Meaning and Multiple Metaphors. In John, everything seems to have multiple layers of meaning, at least two, and often three. You can see this in some of John’s favorite words…like darkness…darkness that’s night and darkness in heart/soul; food: food for body and food for soul; life: now and eternal life.
If you look at the pen and ink drawing in your bulletin, what do you see? A young woman? An old woman? How many see a young woman…or an older woman? How many don’t see any woman? The artist intended for us to see in multiple ways. That’s how John writes. He wants you to keep looking. The language of John is at once simple and elegant, but it also plumbs depths. Someone has described John like this: it is “a book in which a child can wade and an elephant can swim.”
In John there are multiple metaphors such as bread, water, wine, the vine, the door, light and dark, birth and new birth, sight and blindness and more! In today’s message there are two of these: darkness & sight.
Fourth, there is a question that’s behind all that John writes: Is it worth it? John was written around the year 90. And some Christians were asking: Is it worth it to be a believer? Is it worth it to lose so much?
John was writing in a time when it was becoming difficult to be a Christian. For a long time, Jewish Christians had worshipped alongside Jewish brothers and sisters who didn’t see Jesus as the Messiah. But the growing Christian community was seen as a threat, as being outside Jewish orthodoxy, so even though they were still very much a minority, they were being put out of the synagogue. And so there was hostility between the growing Jewish Christian community and the Jewish majority.
Some Christians were asking: “Is it worth it to continue to profess Jesus?” After all, “Mama’s mad at me; I can’t go home to Sabbath dinner; my uncles are not speaking to me; the rabbi is preaching against what I believe. So, is it worth it? Why not just give up being a follower of Christ and go back to the synagogue and family and be what I was?”
A recurring theme in John, one that colors how John tells the story, is this conflict and a conviction John wants to communicate: “Yes, it is worth it! Jesus is the Messiah; he is the Word made flesh. He is all of God you need. And besides, if you lose family and synagogue, you can have a new family in church.” John goes to great lengths to communicate that while we may have been kicked out of the synagogue; we are the ones who really have the truth.
The Jews who accepted Jesus were rejected by the majority who did not. Rebecca and I were talking last week and she said, “Rick, it was like a divorce. In most divorces there are moments of bitterness, especially when wounds are fresh.” And when John wrote the gospel, wounds were very real and very painful. It’s important to remember that and to never literalize conflict and let it turn you toward anti-Judaism. Remember, Jesus lived and died as a faithful Jew.
More than that, John wanted his readers -- and he would want us -- to know that following Christ is worth it, whatever it costs, because Jesus is life in all its fullness.
So, the four things that I invite you to keep in mind as we explore these close encounters in the Gospel of John are these:
• Uniqueness of John
• Identity of Jesus is Clearly Laid Out
• In John there are Layers of Meaning and Multiple Metaphors
• Finally, John wants you to know that whatever the cost of being a disciple: It is worth it!
John 3:1-9 NRSV Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?”
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
Under the clandestine cloak of night, a strange, shadowy figure comes to meet Jesus. Make no mistake about it, it is a scandalous scene. Nicodemus is a highly credentialed religious leader, a respected, educated theologian, a man well schooled in religions matters.
The scandal is that he’s comes to see Jesus, a radical young rabbi, unschooled in the classical sense and hailing from what might be characterized as a Palestinian ghetto of Nazareth. For according to scripture, from there, folks said, “no good thing had ever come.” When Nicodemus comes to see Jesus, he comes at night, in darkness. (Warnock)
Nicodemus represents the religion of the establishment and the status quo. You might say: Nicodemus represents good church folks like you and me!
As I read the story of this Close Encounter, Nicodemus is a sympathetic figure, but one who stands for every believer, in every time, who has tended to be overly confident in their religious knowledge, their position, or their status. He represents every believer who’s ever been tempted to settle down in secure religious wisdom and resist the challenge of the ongoing revelation of God. (Sandra Schneiders, Textweek)
It is to Nicodemus that Jesus says: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.”
This is one of the most radical statements in the entire New Testament. It is radical in the Latin sense of the word, literally “to get at the root of a thing.” It’s radical!
Perhaps it doesn’t feel radical to us because one translation of Jesus’ words, “You must be born again,” are the words that some parts of the church have used to say to other parts of the church that “because you haven’t had the same kind of religious experience that I’ve had, then you’re not really a Christian.” Some have made those words a “bumper sticker” slogan and used it to beat others up and put them down. And sometimes churches have preached “born again” to the world, those outside, pointing fingers out to the world and saying, “You, out there, you must be born again.” We mistakenly imagine that Jesus is speaking to someone other than people like us.
But here, in John, Jesus is addressing these words precisely to people like us. Remember, these words were spoken to a religious man, a credentialed religious leader, an educated theologian. It is like one good Methodist talking to another good Methodist, or one minister talking to another minister, or one Sunday School teacher talking to another Sunday School teacher! Jesus’ words are meant for the already religious.
And if his words here make you uncomfortable, realize they’re meant to do just that…to make the religious uncomfortable. And remember, the one who speaks them is Jesus, who because of love, stands at the margins of our religious comfort zone and says to all those who believe they have it all figured out: “You must be born from above!” What he actually says is: If you would see the Kingdom of God, if you would discern what God is up to in the world, you must open yourself up to radical renewal. You must be born from above.
So, like Nicodemus, we ask, we wonder…what does this talk of “being born from above” actually mean? Here we turn to the levels of meaning. There are multiple levels of meaning going on in this dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus, but I’ll lift up three of those levels.
The first level of meaning is explained by Jesus himself.
Jesus speaks of being born of “water and spirit.” He says there are two births, one of water and another of spirit. And it’s as basic as life itself. The first is human birth; the second is spiritual birth. Some think of water as baptism, but “water” refers to the processes of human reproduction and particularly coming from the womb after the breaking of the mother's water which was a common idea in both Hebrew Scritpure and other literature of the period. So Jesus wants Nicodemus to know that while it is wonderful to be born at all, especially to be born into the Covenant of Israel, one must also be born anew in the Spirit of God.
What does that suggest? I think it’s simply this: it is never enough just to be alive. Jesus wants us to be fully alive! It is never enough to go wear the right religious label or go through the right religious motions or say the right stuff or to have been baptized.
Scholar William Loader says it like this: In John’s gospel, the focus is on…our relationship with God. That relationship is what matters most. To be born from above, means to have grasped the gift of this…relationship. (Textweek) So, at its most basic level, these words are about claiming the faith for ourselves.
Faith is meant to be first hand and personal. That’s the first level of meaning.
At a second level, Jesus says “no one can see (there’s that metaphor) the Kingdom of God without being born from above.” We tend to rush to the “born again” part of his words and forget what comes before it. Jesus says that seeing in a new way is the result of new birth. The evidence of the new birth is the ability to see the Kingdom of God! It is the ability to SEE the work of God and recognize it for what it is!
Now, remember, John is image rich; his writing is filled with multiple metaphors -- he repeats them over and over again. Among John’s favorite metaphors are darkness and light, blindness and sight. These words are everywhere in John. Later in John you hear Jesus say: “I am the light of the world.” Then, Jesus goes out and heals a man of blindness. Jesus wants us to be able to see, and in our sight be able to see the Kingdom of God here and now.
If you’ve been around here awhile, you’ll know I frequently use John Ortberg’s simple definition of the Kingdom of God that comes from the Lord’s Prayer where it says “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Ortberg says that this line of Jesus’ prayer essentially means “Lord, make up there come down here.” I believe that in this story, Jesus is inviting us to see God’s work in the world in a new and fresh way…to have our eyes opened to see: up there coming down here.
Of course, first and foremost, we’re invited to see that in Jesus himself. Jesus is “up there come down here.” John’s affirmation is: Jesus is the Word made flesh; he is God with us.
But there is another kind of seeing, another kind of incarnation! The incarnation is also about turning us into conduits of God’s presence to others. Jesus wants us to see the Kingdom of God here and now, working through us and others.
He wants us to see that every time you are in conflict with someone and we want to hurt them, gossip about them or avoid them, but instead we go to them and seek reconciliation and forgiveness…the Kingdom of God breaks in. Can you see it? Every time we give sacrificially to help someone who’s in need…the Kingdom of God is breaking in. Can you see it? Every time we love, every time we include someone who is lonely, every time we encourage someone who’s defeated, every time we challenge someone who’s wandering off the path…every time we serve the under-resourced…it is a sign of the Kingdom of God breaking in. Can you see it? (Ortberg)
Do you have the eyes to see the Kingdom of God? Jesus wants us to see the Kingdom in him and see the Kingdom coming into the world. That ability to see, to see the Kingdom of God, is evidence of being born from above.
But there’s a third image I want to lift up today. It’s drawn from the translation of John from the original Greek by Clarence Jordan in the Cotton Patch translation of John. As a Greek scholar, the words Jordan uses are not “born again,” or “born from above.” No, this home-spun scholar translated it: “You must be re-fathered from above.”
Re-fathered from above! Clarence understood that Jesus’ words about being born from above were spoken in a male dominated world where who your daddy was, in so many ways, determined who you were. By and large your birth father set the boundaries of your life -- your view of yourself, your value, your status, your vocation and your future. People lived their lives in a kind of determinism where their life was shaped by the circumstances of their birth.
If Clarence Jordan is correct and I believe he is; then, at some level Jesus is saying, “It is not the circumstances of your first birth that determines your life, your destiny. It is the new birth…for when your HEAVENLY FATHER becomes YOUR FATHER, your future is open, your life is transformed and boundaries are redrawn. You start over and it’s like being born again. With the help of your Heavenly Father you become what you were meant to be. When you are God’s child, the future is open and it’s like being born all over again.
Now that is radical religion…a religion that transforms.
It's unfortunate that the phrase “born from above” or “born again” has been hijacked and identified with and reduced or relegated to a single type of religious experience. Because it involves so much more that touches all of our lives.
I think what’s at stake in the meeting between Jesus and Nicodemus is the difference between good religion and bad religion. Good religion touches the whole person: the heart, soul, mind and strength; while bad religion just touches parts of a person.
Think about it…haven’t some of the worst sins committed against God and against humanity been done in the name of religion, bad religion?
Bad religion spawned the crusades and led the Inquisition. Bad religion murdered the Anabaptists and burned Joan of Arc. Bad religion killed William Tyndale for translating the Bible into the languages of the people. Bad religion captured Africans and made them slaves. Bad religion sent six million Jews through Hitler’s Holocaust. Bad religion worships the flag and burns the cross. Bad religion inspires fundamentalists of every stripe: whether they are Islamic, Jewish or Christian. (Warnock)
But while bad religion takes life; good religion gives it.
While bad religion enslaves; good religion liberates.
While bad religion divides; good religion unifies.
While bad religion makes you hate; good religion makes you love.
While bad religion is built on the love of power; good religion exalts the power of love. (Adams)
In reflecting on this idea of good religion and bad religion, a pastor, Raphael Warnock, says: “I want good religion. Everyday of my life I want to be born again so that I can see anew what God is up to in the world and in this moment. I want to be used as an instrument of God in this time….” I want good religion.
I want the religion of Moses who went to tell Pharaoh: Let my people go.
I want the religion of Esther who said: “If I perish, I perish; but I’m going to see the king. I’m going to do the right thing.”
I want the religion of David who dared to stand up against the giants in our world.
I want the religion of Mary who sat at the feet of Jesus and heard him say: “You’ve chosen the better part.”
I want the religion of the Apostles who though they were few in number, about them the record says, “They turned the world upside down.”
I want the religion of John who was exiled in a prison on Patmos who dared to see a new heaven and a new earth.
I want the religion of Martin Luther King, Jr. who said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” (Warnock)
And I want the religion of John who after telling of that meeting between Jesus and Nicodemus would make the most profound spiritual affirmation in history: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son….”
I want the religion that defines God not in terms of power, judgment or punishment, but in terms of love, mercy and grace.
I want a religion that knows that God is love, a religion that shows me how to love.
I want a religion about a love that comes from the heart of God, a love that’s given without condition, a love that lays down its life, a love that asks only that we accept it, receive it, and allow it to re-create us.
I want a religion that teaches me how to love deeply, give sacrificially and live courageously in spite of the cost and in scorn of the consequences.
For in that good and radical religion, you and I are born again; we are born from above!
Let us pray. O God, we give you thanks today for your Word at work among us, for an encounter that came at night in darkness, that reveals your light to us. For we pray in the name of the Risen Christ, Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. Charles G. Adams, a conference sermon commemorating the death of Dr. Martin Luther King, Washington, D.C., April, 2001
2. William Barclay, The Gospel of John
3. Maxie Dunnam, That’s What the Man Said
4. Frances Taylor Gench, Encounters with Jesus
5. Brewster H. Gere, “Birth, Wind and Fire”
6. Luke Timothy Johnson, Jesus and the Gospels, Part 2
7. John Killinger, A Devotional Guide to John
8. John Ortberg, God is Closer Than You Think
9. David H. Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary
10. Raphael Warnock, “Radical Religion”
11. Tom Wright, John For Everyone, Part One
]]>180 Gallons of Gracetag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6272009-04-19T12:27:00Z2009-04-21T12:31:42ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.com John 2:1-11 NRSV On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
Robert Fulgum tells the story of a woman who was usually polite, reasonable, and sane, but who came mentally unhinged by the announcement of her daughter's engagement. I don't mean that she was unhappy -- to the contrary -- she was so excited about the engagement that she just about succeeded in overwhelming everybody with her excitement. You’d have thought it was her wedding or a royal wedding or a wedding that had been scripted by Steven Spielberg. It was going to be so grand and expensive that the father of the bride began to pray for an elopement. The mother of the bride had seven months to work on the wedding and no detail was left to chance or human error.
The minister met with the bride and groom three times. But the mother of the bride called him weekly and was in his office as often as the cleaning lady. There were teas, showers, and dinners. They auditioned and hired an 18-piece orchestra for the wedding music and secured the largest, grandest hall for both the wedding and the reception. If that wasn't enough, the engagement ring was returned to the jeweler for a larger stone, quietly subsidized by the mother of the bride.
And so finally the day came. Guests packed the building. The orchestra offered up beautiful music. The mother of the bride coasted down the aisle with the grandeur of an opera diva. Never did a mother of the bride take her seat with more satisfaction. She’d done it! The extravaganza was complete. She glowed, beamed, smiled and nodded her approval.
Then, as the orchestra played, chiffon-draped bridesmaids lock-stepped down the long aisle, while the groom and groomsmen marched into their place. And as the “Wedding March” thundered, four mini-princesses marched down the aisle chucking flower petals, followed by two dwarfish ring-bearers.
The congregation rose and turned in anticipation of the bride. Ah, the bride! She’d been dressed for hours. After a whirlwind of preparation, no adrenaline was left in her body.
Left alone with her father in the reception hall, she walked along the tables laden with gourmet goodies and absent-mindedly sampled little pink, yellow and green mints. Then, she picked through bowls of mixed nuts and ate all the pecans, and followed that with a chunk of cheese ball, a handful of olives, a dozen glazed almonds, a little sausage with a frilly toothpick, a couple of shrimp blanketed in bacon, and a cracker piled high with liver pate. To wash this down, she had a huge glass of champagne.
But what you noticed as the bride stood in the doorway was not her beautiful white dress but her unnaturally white face -- as white as her dress -- for what was coming down the aisle was a living grenade with the pin pulled.
And just as she walked by her mother, it happened! The bride lost it. Actually, there's no nice way to say it. She threw up; she threw out; she hosed the front of the chancel, two bridesmaids, the groom, the ring bearer and the minister. It was all caught on videotape, three cameras worth. Having disgorged her hors d'oeuvres and the last of her dignity, the bride went limp in her father's arms. The groom sat down on the floor where he’d been standing, too stunned to function. The infamous mother of the bride fainted. What followed was a scene that only the Three Stooges or the Marx Brothers could have rivaled. The groomsmen rushed about heroically. The mini-princess flower girls squalled, the bridesmaids sobbed, and people with weak stomachs headed for the exits. All the while, the orchestra played on.
The guests adjourned to the reception hall, though they didn’t eat or drink much. The bride was consoled, cleaned up, and fitted out with another dress and hugged and kissed a lot by the revived groom. As the wedding party was reassembled, a single flute softly played. Words were spoken and when the groom said “for better or for worse,” he truly meant it. Everybody cried as people often do at weddings, mostly because the groom held his bride in his arms throughout the ceremony; and no groom ever kissed his bride more tenderly than did he.
In today’s scripture, John tells about another wedding where something went very wrong. In Jesus’ day, wedding celebrations were grand events that went on for days, not just a few hours. There was plenty of eating, drinking, laughter, dancing and singing. Banquet tables were filled with platters of food and jugs of wine.
But at this wedding, one of the worst possible things that could happen, happened. They ran out of wine.
To run out of wine at a wedding feast was a huge social embarrassment. You can almost see the guests looking into the bottom of their empty cups and seeing no more wine, and looking at one another saying, “The wine has run out. Guess this party is over. It’s time to go home!” The steward, the wedding coordinator, was in a panic. And the host is saying: “What am I going to do? This is so embarrassing! How will I ever live this down?”
And Mary, the mother of Jesus, goes to the caterer and says, “See that guy over there; that’s my boy. Do whatever he tells you to do.”
Nearby are six stone jars. Jesus tells the waiter to fill it to the brim with water. When that was done, Jesus told the waiter to draw off a flask and take it to the caterer. The caterer took a sniff, sipped it, and rolled it over his tongue. He walked over to the groom and said: “I need to speak to you privately.” And out of earshot he said to him, “Are you crazy! Everyone knows you serve the best wine first, then, after the folks are a little tipsy and won’t know the difference, you bring out the jugs with the screw top lids. But you’ve saved the best wine for last.” That’s the story…except for one verse, John’s editorial: “This was Jesus’ first sign and it revealed his glory.”
So what is a sign? A sign, in John’s gospel, is another word for a miracle. In John, a sign makes a statement; it calls attention to something. A sign says, “Notice this and the person who does it.” And what are we supposed to notice?
If you re-read the story, this time looking for the details of the story, you’ll notice we’re not told the name of the bride or the groom. John doesn't tell us who the DJ was or what food they ate or who caught the bridal bouquet. But John does give a lot of detail about one thing. And about this one thing, he’s very specific.
And when John does that, get’s specific, he means for us to notice. What’s the specific detail that I am talking about?
It was those jars. There were six stone jars each capable of holding 30 gallons. That's the detail. John tells a lot about those jars. There were six of them. Stone jars, not clay. They hold up to 30 gallons. Then he says they were stone jars that held the “water of purification.”
If you go down to Kroger or Schnucks, you’d see they have 20 or 30 different brands of bottled water for sale. I did a quick check on the internet yesterday…there are 83 different brands of water. But I didn’t find anything called “Water of Purification.” So what is it? What was it?
Maybe the best way to understand the waters of purification is to remember what your mother always told you to do before mealtime. IF she was like my mom, she said, “Always wash your hands before you eat!”
My friend Dr. David Jones tells it like this: Religious folks in Jesus’ time took our mother's admonition and raised it to an entirely new level. Washing your hands wasn't just about physical hygiene, it was about spiritual hygiene. They created a long list of elaborate rituals that called for the use of waters of purification. And you used the water of purification to wash your hands upon rising in the morning. You used it to wash your feet when you entered the house. You used it to wash before worship and before prayers. If you touched something that had been declared unclean, you'd wash. If you came into contact with the dead, you'd go wash. If you got involved with something messy (like childbirth), you'd wash. The list of purification rituals went on and on. A good idea was behind all of this: God is clean and God is pure. You can't be close to God and be unclean at the same time. Just as we need to wash the dirt off our hands, we need to wash the spiritual dirt from our lives.
All of this to say: the water that Jesus turned into wine wasn't just any water; it was the water that the people washed with; it was the water they counted on to make themselves clean and pure.
Jesus changed wash-water into wine! Now, some folks get stuck with the miracle itself. And some people get hung up about the wine...that He created wine...in fact, created a whole lot of wine! But the beverage is not the point. The point is Jesus and his extravagant love! So the story is not so much a story about a beverage, as about a blessing. So what is the wine? You know what the wine is! The wine is forgiveness. The wine is mercy. The wine is acceptance and community! The wine is Jesus. It is the amazing grace of God that cleanses us in ways that the waters of purification could never do!
And that’s a big deal! But it’s an even bigger deal because for a long time…so many churches and so many Christians have been trying hard to reverse this miracle and turn the wine of the Gospel back into wash-water, or at the very least, to water it down.
Again, David Jones says it like this: “Whenever we make people feel they are unclean, or unworthy, or that they have no place in the Christian church, we’re turning the wine of the gospel back into wash-water.”
“Whenever we preach more about shoulds and oughts than we do about love, or whenever we preach more about guilt than about grace, or more about hell than about hope, we’re turning the wine of the gospel back into wash-water.”
“And whenever we’re more concerned about respectability than about reconciliation, we are turning the wine of the gospel back into wash-water.”
Think about it! You know what I’m talking about! I mean, do you know anybody who has ever been told that they are such a sinner and so lost that God couldn’t possibly care about them?
Do you know anybody who has ever been told that they are not going to amount to much because they are not smart enough or not good enough?
Do you know anybody who has ever been led to believe that God loves only certain people...respectable people...highly moral people...but certainly not them?
When we don’t feel like we’ve been to church unless the preacher has blistered us with his words, we’ve turned the wine of the gospel into wash-water.
There’s a particular brand of Bible-belt Christianity that is designed to make you feel just that way.
My hunch is, some of us have heard that message, maybe we still hear it, if not at church, then at school or from our parents or from some of our religious friends, or even from that inner voice of self-condemnation and shame.
The miracle at Cana of Galilee is that Jesus changed the wash-water to wine! And again, what is wine? Wine is grace. Wine is Jesus. In fact, in the story…John calls it the best wine, the finest wine.
Now, I’m not a wine connoisseur. Methodist ministers aren’t allowed to be wine connoisseurs. But I have heard a wine connoisseur tell about fine wine. He tells it like this: “A great wine is unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. There is a fullness and richness to it that defies description. It is never drunk to get intoxicated. Rather, it is slowly savored because it enhances every other part of the meal.”
When I heard that, I thought: I get it! That’s life in Jesus. For life in Christ is unlike anything you or I have ever tasted…there is a richness and a fullness to it that defies description. It’s not about becoming intoxicated so that we forget the cares of the world; rather, it is something to savor that enhances every other part of life.
And everybody I know needs a little of that in their lives. But here's the kicker! We don't just get “a little of that.” We get 180 gallons (there are six, 30-gallon jars…that’s 180 gallons). Now, that's an awful lot of wine.
And that’s the point. David Jones says it this way: “Just as there was more wine than the guests at that wedding could possibly drink, there’s more goodness and grace in God's heart than you and I can ever use up. You and I don't have to worry about God ever saying: ‘I’m sorry, you’re too late. My supply of goodness and grace has run out!’”
Jesus gave 180 gallons of grace…enough to cover all of your sorrow, all of your sin, all of your guilt and all of your shame and all of your hang-ups, mess-ups and foul-ups! 180 gallons of grace for me! 180 gallons of grace for you!
Author Anne Lamott returned to the Christian faith and church after a difficult and troubled life. She tells the story of her conversion in her book, Traveling Mercies. She was interviewed by an evangelical magazine about her conversion. She said, “I am a Christian. But I never said that I am a (particularly) good Christian. I just know that Jesus adores me and he is only as far away as his name. I say, ‘Hi, Lord,’ and he says, ‘Hello, Darling.’ He loves me so much that he keeps a photo of me in his wallet. If I were the only person on earth, he still would have died for me.” We are loved beyond our comprehension, beyond our earning or deserving.
What I hope you’ll take away from this story in John’s gospel is this: There is a richness and a fullness in Jesus that defies description. He doesn’t intoxicate us so that we forget the cares of the world; instead, he adds to life and he enhances every part of life and shows us how to love the world in a whole new way. In him, you’ll know that you are God’s beloved child and so is every one of your neighbors. And in Jesus, each of us is the blessed recipient of 180 gallons of grace.
Let us pray. O God, we give you thanks that you grant us a gift of such excess and extravagance. We don’t begin to understand or comprehend. And we knew we didn’t earn it, but thank you for the blessing. For we pray in Christ our Savior, Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay, The Gospel of John
2. Frances Taylor Gench, Encounters with Jesus
3. Adam Hamilton, “Living Under the Influence”
4. David Jones, “Washwater and Wedding Wine”
5. John Kilinger, A Devotional Guide to John
6. Calum MacLeod, “The Guest”
7. Tom Wright, John for Everyone, Part One
]]>Living in Easter’s Impudent Positiontag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6252009-04-12T13:37:00Z2009-04-14T13:41:41ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comMatthew 28:1-10 NRSV After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
1 Peter 1:3-9 NRSV Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith – being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
I heard a story about a church in which a conflict arose between the pastor and the music director and it was reflected in the choir director’s hymn selections for the worship service. It started on one Sunday when the preacher was speaking on “missions” and said to the congregation, “God’s people must move out into the world.” After he finished, the music director stood up and led the congregation in singing the hymn, “We Shall Not Be Moved.”
The next Sunday, the preacher spoke about stewardship and challenged everyone to contribute to the church’s financial needs. After his message, the music director got up and led the hymn, “Jesus Paid It All.”
The preacher’s next sermon addressed the evils of gossip; and he urged the congregation to tame their tongues and squelch some troubling rumors that were circulating throughout the congregation. He sat down and the music director stood up and led the congregation in singing the hymn, “I Love to Tell the Story,” followed by “Oh, For a Thousand Tongues.”
The next Sunday, the minister announced that he was resigning. The music director led the congregation in singing: “Oh, Happy Day.”
Well, the minister turned in his resignation and delivered his final sermon the following Sunday. He said, “Jesus led me to this church and now Jesus is leading me on to another church.” He sat down and the music director stood and led the congregation in singing the hymn, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”!
I am so thankful for our music staff and all the singers and musicians of this church…you and your music are always wonderful – and today, extraordinary!
And what a thrill it is to be a preacher on Easter! It’s better than being Irish on St. Patrick’s Day, better than being a North Carolina fan at last Monday night’s NCAA finals, and even better than being a child on Christmas morning. One pastor described it like this: “Easter is the day that God’s people get to sit on Cloud 9 and dangle our toes in stardust. If Easter doesn’t ring your bell, your clapper must be broken!”
But ya’ gotta’ know, preparing for Easter is complicated in a church like this one. The reason is simple: a lot more people come to church on Easter, more than any other Sunday. And we try to plan carefully for hospitality and wonderful music, overflow seating and video, more bulletins, and more information in the bulletins. We planned where people could wait between services and where they might park. Parking is a challenge here at Germantown. One of my dreams is of a vast church parking lot…blacktop stretching to the horizon as far as the eye can see. But for now, parking is a challenge!
All of which is to say that we are deeply grateful that you are here. In some churches you might get an Easter lecture on the merits of regular church attendance: something like, “I want to wish you a pleasant 4th of July, a wonderful summer, a happy Labor Day and Thanksgiving, because I won’t be seeing many of you until Christmas.” But you’ll not hear that from me! Because I’m so very glad you’re here. I’m so grateful you’ve come today. If you only come once a year, this is the day to do it. Not just because the music is great and the flowers are beautiful, but because what is proclaimed and sung in this and every church on Easter is the most startling, wondrous, world-shattering, significant piece of news imaginable.
What is that news? Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen, indeed. Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen, indeed.
This morning, I want to ask you a question: What would it be like if we could lose our fear of death? What if that darkness that is at the end of the tunnel ceased to be something that we dreaded and became instead a doorway of a new adventure?
I ask that because as much as I love to retell the story of Easter, Easter is not just about what happened in a tomb in Jerusalem 2000 years ago. Easter is about what happens in you and me when we allow the Risen Christ to come alive in us. It’s about the dawn of hope in our lives, about the song of hope and joy which can be heard even in the face of hatred and violence, persecution and suffering, sadness and death. Easter is not just about what became of His body, but what becomes of us, here, now, today and forever. Easter has the power to change how we face life and how we face death.
In her beautiful book, Intensive Care, Mary Lou Weisman tells the moving story of the death of her 15-year-old son, Peter, from the disease of muscular dystrophy.
She tells about an astonishing thing that happened just minutes before Peter’s death. In the final stages of the disease, Peter’s body was paralyzed and the delirium of death was taking over. Peter was moaning random, disconnected thoughts.
But then, suddenly, in a surprisingly clear voice, Peter spoke directly to Larry, his dad. He said: “Daddy, what does ‘impudent’ mean?”
Bewildered, Larry and Mary Lou looked at each other. What was this strange question coming from their dying son? Why was he asking: “What does ‘impudent’ mean?”
Even though tears were streaming from his eyes, Larry answered his son matter-of-factly. “Son, impudent means bold. It means shamelessly bold.” Larry says he didn’t know if that was the best definition, but that’s what he said.
And Peter paused for a moment, as death was closing its grip on him and then said, “Mom and Dad, put me in an impudent position.” And just before their son died, Larry and Mary Lou positioned Peter’s arms and legs in a posture of bold defiance, an “impudent position” in the face of death.
Hold onto that image for a moment, because there’s something we can learn from this story about the nature of Christian hope. Christian hope is kind of an “impudent position,” something that allows us to be shamelessly bold in the face of death and darkness.
Christian hope is not something sweet, timid or mild. Nor is it wishful thinking, like, “I hope it doesn’t rain or I hope the economy gets better soon.” Or “I hope I get that job, or that house or that girl.”
Those may be good hopes, but when we Christians use the word “hope,” we mean something very different. Our hope is that in this world of suffering and death, in this world of violence and warfare, none of these things have the last word.
A wonderful preacher by the name of Tom Long says Easter’s message is this: “Over against all of the visible evidence, love is stronger than hate, and life will prevail over death….” Then Tom adds: “Christian hope allows us to be shamelessly bold over against the powers of death and darkness in the world.” What does a shamelessly bold life look like?
I’ve seen it. Haven’t you?
Nancy Atkins died on Good Friday. But I saw it Thursday night when, after the Seder Meal, the clergy of Germantown United Methodist Church and our lay leaders (Bill and Cathy Whitaker) went to visit Nancy and Steve in Nancy’s hospital room at Methodist North. There were a few family members surrounding Nancy as she lay still and unconscious in the bed.
We greeted and hugged Steve and his family. I said, “Steve we’ve come to sing and pray with you and Nancy…is that okay?” He smiled and nodded. Rebecca put her arm around Steve…she led us in singing “Bless Be the Tie that Binds.” Some of you may not know the words to that song, but they go like this:
“Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.”
And then there was a verse we didn’t sing, but we all understood. It goes like this:
“When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.”
Then we sang a few verses of “Amazing Grace” and Deborah Smith prayed a bold prayer of trust and hope. We saw the power of Steve’s faith as we heard him say: “I know where Nancy is going and it’s a good place, but it’s just so hard to let her go.”
That is being shamelessly bold in the face of death.
I saw it when I read the words Henri Nouwen wrote to his dad after Henri’s mom’s death. Henri asked his dad how the Easter story spoke to him now that he knew “what it means to lose the one you loved most.” It led to profound conversation! In his correspondence with his dad, Henri wrote: “The resurrection is God’s way of revealing to us that nothing that belongs to God will ever go to waste. What belongs to God (is) never lost…. The resurrection (may not) answer all of our questions about life after death, such as ‘How will it be? Or how will it look?’ But it does reveal…that God’s love is stronger than death. God’s love for us, our love for each other…is not just a quickly passing experience, but a reality transcending time and space.”
And I see a faith that is shamelessly bold in the text of a song composed by Natalie Sleeth. Natalie was a music major in college and she became a composer and she married a United Methodist minister. One evening after entertaining friends, the conversation turned to the poet T.S. Eliot and out of the blue, someone recited the closing line of T.S. Eliot’s complex poem called “East Coker,” the last line of which is: “In my end is my beginning.”
Those words grabbed hold of Natalie in a powerful way. She pondered them and they inspired her to write a choir anthem called, “Hymn of Promise.” In the last line of the hymn, Natalie Sleeth picked up the line from T.S. Eliot…and tweaked it a bit so that it reads:
In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity;
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory;
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
“Hymn of Promise” was first sung at a choral festival in St. Petersburg, Florida. Shortly after that, Natalie’s husband fell terminally ill. He asked his wife to make certain that “Hymn of Promise” was sung at his funeral.
Subsequently, she rearranged it as a hymn and it has become one of the most beloved hymns of the people called Methodist! Twice United Methodist people have ranked it with Amazing Grace, Blessed Assurance, and How Great Thou Art. Why? Because it etches in our hearts the promise we so long to believe.
In our end is our beginning.
On that awful Friday afternoon, it seemed that all of the forces of injustice, violence and death had won the day. On Friday it all seemed lost. Jesus was dead, sealed in a tomb, and the disciples huddled in fear.
But God wasn’t done.
On Easter, God raised Jesus from death to life and showed us that violence, defeat and death do not have the last word. The last word belongs to God. When Jesus emerged from the tomb on that first Easter, He emerged with the promise that God’s mercy is greater than anything we’ve done or failed to do. And He replaced the fear of death with a promise that “in our end is our beginning” and knowledge that the grave is a doorway to the next part of God's grand adventure.
Reverend John Claypool was a wonderful writer and minister who wrote a prayer that is the text to the song the choir will sing in few moments. Some years ago, very close to Easter, John had a remarkable dream. It was a dream in which he’d died.
Like so many near death experiences, he found himself moving through a dark tunnel. And then he came to what he can only describe as a kindly light. In the company of that kindly light, he felt accepted, embraced and welcomed. He says that he saw no figure; instead, a voice spoke his name and said, “Welcome. I have some questions I want to ask you.”
John says he remembered tensing up because, like everyone else, he hadn't done life perfectly and thought to himself, “Here comes a catalogue of God’s complaints against me.”
But the voice said to John, “Can you weep for all the pain that you've caused others and you've caused yourself; for the way that you've abused power or neglected power; for the things that you've done that you wish you hadn't done, and for the things that you have left undone that you wish you had done?” John says, “I began to remember many of the things in my life for which I have deep regret.” John said, “I felt a profound sense of sadness.”
But then the voice said, “Let me ask you a second thing. Can you laugh at all the funny stories that you heard, all the hilarious things that you've witnessed and good things that have happened?” John says he began to think about all of the goodness, mercy and love he'd experienced. A great sense of laughter began to well up deep from within him and it seemed as if the God of the Universe was laughing with him.
When the laughter died down, the voice said, “I have another question to ask you. Do you want any more of it, this life that I want to give to you? Do you want more of it?” John remembered thinking, “If I say ‘yes,’ there will be both pain and there will be wonder. Do I want more of this bittersweet reality?” From deep within John the words rose up, “Yes, yes, yes! I do want more of it.”
And with that, the light said, “That's what I want to give to you. It is my good pleasure to give you life abundant. Therefore, enter into the joy of your Lord.” With that, John says he plunged further and deeper into the great ocean of love and light.
That is in part the message of the Easter promise. For Easter tells us that the love of God is bigger than anything we have done or failed to do; Easter replaces shame and sadness with grace and joy, and Easter tells us that we’re given eternal life on the same terms as we were given our birth -- not because we deserve it, but because God wants to give it to us.
So today, as Easter unfolds, I pray that you will see the good pleasure of God to give you life in all of its fullness, all of its passion, all of its joy, all of its courage, and all of its eternity.
And I hope your answer will be the same as John Claypool’s: “Yes, yes, yes!” Because if we want more of life, it is God’s good pleasure to give it.
Let us pray. O Lord, we give you our thanks today on this Easter Sunday for the wonder of the gift that you give us in the Resurrection of Jesus. Help us to see it as a treasure to embrace, as a mystery to comprehend, and as a treasure to hold onto forever. Speak to us in the songs of this day, in the fellowship and in the promise. May our lives be yours, O God, now and forever. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. John Buchanan, “Fear and Great Joy”
2. John Claypool, “Easter and the Fear of Death”
3. John E. Harnish, “Focused on Life”
4. Jim Jackson, “Let God Be God”
5. Tom Long, “A Living Hope”
6. Henri Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift, a Meditation on Dying and Caring; A Letter of Consolation
]]>And Then the Cheering Stoppedtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6222009-04-05T12:51:00Z2009-04-07T12:55:27ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comMatthew 21:1-11 NRSV When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Matthew 27:21-23 NRSV The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” All of them said, “Let him be crucified!” Then he asked, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!”
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
As Jesus approached Jerusalem, expectations were high and the atmosphere was electric as the crowd shouted and cheered as he entered into the city. Some spread out cloaks and branches. “Hosannas” filled the air as people praised the one who “comes in the name of the Lord.” They were shouting, “Hosanna; save us!”
But in a matter of hours, the cheering stopped and the crowds that had Hosanna-ed Jesus cried out, “Crucify him.” And those who had spread out their cloaks and palms, shook their heads and taunted, “Save yourself!” as he hung on the cross.
Whenever you read the Holy Week story, before you know it, it’s Friday and the cheering crowds are gone, replaced by a jeering mob. Judas has betrayed him. Peter has denied knowing him. The soldiers have tortured and tormented him. All of his followers, except for a few women, have deserted him. And what follows is another parade...only now he marches alone through the streets of Jerusalem, carrying a heavy crossbeam as the soldiers prod and push.
It is inescapable! After the cheering, comes the cross!
That cross becomes the central symbol of our faith. It adorns our denomination’s logo. It is prominent in our churches. It is on our healthcare organizations and hospitals.
It may be the most popular item of jewelry in the whole history of jewelry. There are crosses on gold chains, crosses of gold and silver and stone and wood...crosses adorned with diamonds. You can even go to the tattoo parlor and get a tattoo cross.
You can go to the great art galleries of the world and you will discover that Jesus’ death on a cross is probably the central event in art history.
Or consider the great music...all Masses and the Requiems of Bach and Mozart and all the others, all composed around this central event of the cross.
And then of course there are the great hymns that we sing, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded,” “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” “Beneath the Cross of Jesus.” Later we’ll sing “Near the Cross” and “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?”
And great writers are compelled by the cross. Even those who want nothing to do with institutional Christianity, focus on the cross.
Ernest Hemingway could not ignore Jesus, especially his crucifixion. In a short story called “Today is Friday,” he pictures three Roman soldiers in a bar after a particularly difficult Friday. They are rough and crude men and one of them is not feeling well and the bartender gives him something for his stomach.
One soldier says, “Jesus..., why didn’t he come down from the cross?” His friend said, “He didn’t want to come down!” The first soldier replies, “Show me a guy who doesn’t want to come down off a cross...show me one that doesn’t want to get off the cross when the time comes and I’ll climb right up there with him.” (The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway)
Part of what is so compelling is that you have this sense that it didn’t have to happen. That Jesus could have avoided it.
He could have stayed back in the safety of the Galilee. He didn’t have to enter the city in such a provocative way, riding in on a donkey the way that the Messiah was promised to come. He didn’t have to go into the temple and upset the merchants and the money changers and the systems of that day. He could have fought back when they came to take him away in Gethsemane and he could have mounted a defense in front of the court that tried him. He could have at least tried to convince Pilate that he wasn’t really out to get Rome, and that his followers were nothing more than just a few unarmed peasants. He could have avoided the cross. Yet he did none of that.
And through the years, people who thought so much about it...scholars and historians and ordinary people...as they have tried to pin down the reasons for his execution on the cross -- how he alienated the powerful people in the institutional religion of his time and how he irritated the Romans – finally concluded that at the heart of it, there is one reason. That somehow, for some reason, he chose to die. It wasn’t so much that they took his life, but that he gave his life.
Why? Because he refuses to compromise. Because he truly believes that real life...the very essence of what he calls “eternal life”...is in living for others.
Why does he die? He dies for his people -- the poor and the oppressed of Rome, the persecuted and the trampled on. He identified with all the nobodies of the world of all ages who are not in control of their destinies: the poor, the homeless, the weak, the suffering, and the powerless.
Why does he die? I believe he dies to teach us how to live: to show us how to live by loving passionately, by caring deeply, transcending selfishness, to give our love, our resources to others and to causes that matter.
He dies to teach us how not to be afraid. To show us that there is a force that is more powerful than death...namely the love of God.
And he dies to say to all of us who are broken by sin, “My love is greater than your sin.” And so he stretches himself out on that cross and says, “This is how much I love you. This is the length to which love goes to win you back.”
You see, we will never fully understand Holy Week and the cross and the tomb until we use that little four-letter word, “LOVE.”
I was with a group of you in the Holy Land last year. We were in the Old City of Jerusalem, walking the Via Dolorosa that marks the path of Jesus on his journey to the Cross. We were walking in his steps.
Finally, we came to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.
The Church of the Holy Sepulcher is 1700 years of religion wrapped around a rock. Christians revere that spot as the place of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial and resurrection.
In the year 326, Empress Helena came to Jerusalem and when they showed her this rock surrounded by stone tombs, she was so moved she knew that she needed to order that a church be built on that spot.
I’m sure that at the beginning, it was a good idea and that once it was beautiful. But what’s there today obscures Calvary, hides it behind walls of stone and gaudy ornament and endless controversy…as various Christian groups claiming turf vie for their piece of that rock. Fights occasionally break out as rival Christian groups compete for space, attention and dominance. But this is not new. Around 400 years ago it got so bad that the government at the time, gave the keys of the church to a Muslim family to assure that all people had access.
You enter the church through tall doors and climb steep stone steps to the right and you come to Golgotha, the place where both scholarship and tradition say Jesus was crucified. All around are Madonna statues, candles, dim lights, the smell of incense, and dark-robed priests. Beneath an altar is a glass case surrounding the tip of a rock where the crucifixion happened. There’s even a hole in the rock where a cross was lodged.
Then back to the left and around the corner is a tomb which is the traditional burial spot of Christ…it is under the same roof, but actually in another church. Two thousand years ago and a couple of million tourists ago, it was a cemetery. Today, it is a cathedral! The domes high above are covered with ornate paintings, obscured with centuries of candle smoke and the soot of oil lamps.
In the center of the cathedral is an elaborate sepulcher that surrounds the traditional spot of Jesus’ tomb. Oil lamps hang, surrounding the doorway, and a black-caped priest stands guard. His job is to keep the holy place safe and let 3-5 people enter at a time. The line moves ever so slowly. It is a long wait.
Dr. Jim Fleming, our guide, said we could go through the line but we would not see much of interest…what was there is now obscured with ornamentation. He said we would see nothing there that would help us picture the first century tomb and the place of Jesus’ burial.
So, Jim took us through another door behind the ornate sepulcher into a tiny room…dark and smoky, once a small chapel. It caught fire sometime ago and because of all the conflict of various Christian groups, they haven’t been able to decide whether or not or even who should restore it.
The room is lit by a single dim light bulb. When our eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jim showed us several rock-hewn tombs, carved into the back wall. These are tiny rough tombs, carved in rock. These are ancient -- at least 2000 years old. They are dirty, uncared for, no ornamentation and no priest to protect them. It was dark, cold and the stones are rough.
It was a tomb like that that held the body of Jesus, a tomb that witnessed history’s greatest moment.
As I looked at that dirty, tiny tomb, the thought occurred to me: Jesus allowed life to be taken from him and allowed himself to be buried in a place like this. He allowed himself to be placed in a tiny, dark, dirty, claustrophobic room and allowed them to seal it shut.
And because He did…because He allowed himself to be sealed in a dark tomb like that, I can know that there is no darkness He can’t understand. There is no pit so deep, but that He is not there. There is no experience so confining but that He is with us to help us make it through. There is no length to which He would not go to win my love.
So today, Palm Sunday, remember that after the cheering stopped, there was a cross and a tomb. And as you consider the cross and think of that tomb, know that only one word explains it; and that word is LOVE. He did it for love.
Maybe the poet says it best: Upon that cross of Jesus, mine eye at times can see, the very dying form of one who suffered there for me; and from my stricken heart with tears, two wonders I confess: the wonders of redeeming love and my unworthiness.
Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. Brett Blair, “When the Cheering Stopped”
2. John M. Buchanan, “The Cross”
3. Thomas Cahill, Desire of the Everlasting Hills, The World Before and After Jesus
4. Leonard Sweet, “It’s Not a Snuggie Love”
]]>They Spit on Himtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6312009-03-29T12:52:00Z2009-05-12T12:58:44ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comMatthew 27:26-31 NIV Then he [Pilate] released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand and knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
May God bless the reading of His holy Word.
Let us pray. O God, our Guide and our Guardian, you lead us apart from the busy world into the quiet of your house. Grant us grace to worship you in Spirit and in truth, for the up-building of every good purpose and Holy desire. Enable us to hear and understand your Holy Word. Grant that the words of my mouth may be your Word, and the meditations of all of our hearts may be acceptable in your sight. May we be changed by the hearing of your Word so that we would worship you not just with our lips at this hour, but in word and deed all of our lives. For Christ’s sake, Amen.
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The last couple of months, the Prayer and Spiritual Formation team and I have been planning the stations for prayer that will be here in the Sanctuary during the Prayer Vigil on Good Friday. Early on, we decided that we would focus on images from the last week of Jesus’ life as described in Matthew’s Gospel. A couple of weeks ago as we met, one of the images that at first had been dismissed came back up.
When we first began planning, I suggested that one of the stations could be a bowl for people to spit in, as if they were spitting on Jesus. At first, the conversation centered around how gross that would be...and how uncomfortable people would be with it. Can you imagine spitting in the Sanctuary? Or seeing a container full of other people’s spit? So, the idea was set aside.
But the next time we met, it came back up. Because it is a powerful image. For the same reason, it is hard to re-enact hammering the nails into the cross, it is hard to spit and remember the mocking of Jesus. It puts you in the scene. You are part of the story, and you are involved in the crucifixion of God’s Son.
As we look at the story as Matthew recalls it, we see that when Jesus reaches the cross, the only people left are a group of women who have followed him from Galilee to care for his needs...and they watch from a distance.
Last week, we looked closely at the betrayal by Jesus’ friend, Judas. By the time he got to the cross, the other disciples would scatter from him as well. Caiaphas, the high priest, and the Sanhedrin, the court of the elders, the people entrusted to protect and lead God’s people and purposes on earth, would condemn him for blasphemy. Pilate, on behalf of the Roman government, the people entrusted with political justice, would not protect him and would sentence him to death. The crowds would follow the lead of the chief priests and elders who infiltrated the crowd and led a cry for his crucifixion. And finally, he would be mocked by soldiers who had no idea who he was.
From his closest friends all the way to soldiers who had never heard of him before, he was not recognized. No one saw that he was the Christ.
They spit on him.
William Barclay comments that “We may shudder at what the soldiers did; but of all the parties involved in the crucifixion, these soldiers were the least to be blamed. They were not even stationed in Jerusalem; they had no idea who Jesus was; they certainly were not Jews, for the Jews were the only nation in the Roman Empire who were exempt from military service. These soldiers were conscripts who may well have come from the ends of the earth, and they indulged in their rough horse-play; but, unlike the Jew [ish leaders] and unlike Pilate, they did it in ignorance.”
And yet, when we hear the details of Jesus’ passion, we want to cringe and turn away. First, Jesus was flogged. He was tied so that his back would remain exposed and lashed with a whip that had been studded with shards of broken pottery and sharpened stones. Many men died from flogging, from the blood loss. But Jesus lived. They took him to the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. I’ve read that this group could comprise as many as 600 soldiers but that in Jerusalem it was likely less. Regardless, we are not talking about a few misfits who are doing mischief...hundreds of soldiers stood together and took part in their mock coronation.
Some found a scarlet robe and put on him. A bush just outside provided material for a quickly twisted thorny crown. A staff was thrust in his right hand and would substitute for a scepter. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said as their turn came to kneel in front of him. And one by one they rose from their knee, spit on him, took the staff, hit him on the head, returned the staff to his hand, and the next one took his turn.
And it is so hard for us to hear and imagine because we know...we have a turn. We would have abandoned him if we were there. We are not more faithful or closer to Jesus than the disciples were. We are not less attached to black and white rules than the Pharisees were. We are not less concerned about maintaining our political peace than the Roman empire was. And we are not more compassionate toward the suffering of those whom we think have “brought it on themselves” than the Roman soldiers.
Judith Mattison writes this about the message of the cross for today: “The pain of the crucifixion for every one of us is that we are the ones who caused it to happen. We have tried to locate the responsibility and guilt in other characters in the drama, but we are the ones. We are they. We did it.”
She says, “We blame the Pharisees.... They were so ‘right’ in their liturgies and rules.... They could not allow Jesus or any person to suggest that all of us are equal sinners before God.”
“We blame Pilate...he did not follow his personal conviction. He caved in to the pressure of special interests and his own ambition.”
“We are horrified by the violence of the soldiers. The soldiers beat Jesus and mocked him and lost their ability to feel the suffering that Jesus experienced.”
“But,” she writes, “God knows we are the Pharisees.... We hear and see Jesus drawing into the circle of love all the riffraff.... We don’t like it. We don’t like diversity or change. And we are like Pilate, silent in the struggle against oppression, overlooking the pain of those who live without hope because we prefer our comfort.” And, too often, we are the soldiers, unthinkingly responding to others with indifference and disdain and never even seeing the human that is before us.
Jonathan Kozol is a renowned writer, a Harvard graduate and a Rhodes scholar in Oxford.... He has chosen to live his life listening and re-telling the stories of children who otherwise would go unheard and unnoticed. In his book, Amazing Grace: the Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation, he introduces the reader to children who live in the South Bronx of New York City in the neighborhood around St. Ann’s Church.
Alice Washington is one mother whose story he retells. She is a high school graduate, went on to finish secretarial school and was married. She left her husband after many years when he began to beat her. She and her two children depended on her two jobs, and she lost those jobs when she developed cancer and underwent a series of three surgeries. So, at the age of 39, she and her children became homeless. In 1983, they began a journey of dependence “two blocks from Times Square, [in] an old hotel in which the plumbing did not work and from which she and David (her son) and his sister had to carry buckets to a bar across the street in order to get water. After spending close to four years in three shelters in Manhattan, she was moved by the city to the neighborhood where she now lives in the South Bronx.” Then, she learned that her husband had also infected her with HIV, and so she continues a life of dependence...sick much of the time.
As he researched for the book, Jonathan and Alice became friends, and he shared with her what some of the children and youth said to him about their lives. One conversation with a group of youths revealed this perception of life in South Bronx, “It’s...like being hidden. It’s as if you have been put in a garage, where, if they don’t have room for something but aren’t sure if they should throw it out, they put it there where they don’t need to think of it again.” Another youth joins in, “If people in New York woke up one day and learned that we were gone, that we had simply died or left for somewhere else, how would they feel?.... I think they’d be relieved. I think it would lift a burden from their minds.... It’s not like, ‘Let’s figure out a way to kill some more.’ It’s like -- ...if you weave enough bad things into the fibers of a person’s life -- sickness and filth, old mattresses and other junk thrown in the streets and other ugly ruined things, and ruined people, a prison here, sewage there, drug dealers here, the homeless people over there, then five of the very worse schools anyone could think of, hospitals that keep you waiting for ten hours, police that don’t show up when someone’s dying, take the train that’s underneath the street in the good neighborhoods and put it up above where it shuts out the sun, you can guess that life will not be very nice and children will not have much sense of being glad of who they are. Sometimes it feels like we’ve been buried six feet under their perceptions of us.”
When Jonathan asks his friend, Alice, if she thinks these feelings go that far, she says, “Wishing poor people literally would die? Not all of them feel like that, I guess. Maybe the majority. Maybe not. I bet close to half. Most of them probably don’t think at all.... Maybe once a year they do. Some of them have parties around Christmas to raise something for the poor. If it wasn’t for the poor, maybe they’d have no reason to have parties.”
And we find ourselves taking our turn at the mock coronation, kneeling, “Hail, king of the Jews!” and spitting, and rapping him on the head with his pretend scepter, never even seeing the human before us.
We spit on Jesus. Every time we fail to see the humanity in another person. Every time we walk away from a person in need. Every time we remain silent about an injustice.
“The mock coronation. It is more than a cruel ridicule. At a deeper level it subverts the emblems of power and will portray a new kind of human (and divine) value about leadership (and about God!). The narrative plays out what Jesus had already explained: true greatness is not enjoying control over others and exploiting them, but living with compassion and caring towards others. Here is a different understanding of leadership and greatness...” (Loader)
Here is Jesus. Weak, bloody, tired...real. There are others who could perform miracles, others who spoke and taught with wisdom, others who had compassion for the wounded and the outcast.... There is no other suffering servant. There is no pain that we can experience that Jesus didn’t endure; no embarrassment that we can suffer that Jesus didn’t endure. He was betrayed, framed, unjustly tried, his death called for by a mob who was just going along, and mocked by strangers who didn’t know who he was and didn’t care to know. Writer Anne Lamott says that the most powerful sermon in the world is two words: “Me too.”
And the suffering servant is revealed as God’s will is done. There is nothing that we can experience, no darkness, that God doesn’t come alongside us and say, “Me too.”
The early church understood their own suffering and endured it as they remembered Jesus’ suffering. Paul quotes one of the earliest hymns in his letter to the Philippians when he writes to them, “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!”
Our attitude should be the same as his. “The way of Jesus is the path of descent. It’s about our death. It’s our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it’s our participation in [acts of peace and justice], it’s our weakness calling out to others in their weakness.” (Bell)
“For someone to receive, someone has to give. For someone to be fed, someone has to provide the food. If someone is inspired, which means that life has been breathed into them, then somebody else had life breathed out of them. If someone somewhere benefits, then someone somewhere has paid something. God gives life to the world through the breaking of Christ’s body and the pouring out of Christ’s blood. And God continues to give life to the world through the body of Christ.” (Bell)
Will you descend? As you have the opportunity on Good Friday to remember the soldiers spitting on Jesus, will you join him or them? Will you empty yourself so that others know the “me too” in you? Will you give so that someone receives? This is Christ’s invitation to join him.
The ancient hymn concludes, “Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Amen and Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. William Barclay’s Gospel of Matthew, Volume 2, in the Daily Study Bible Commentary Series
2. Tom Wright’s Mark for Everyone
3. Judith Mattison’s The Seven Last Words of Christ: The Message of the Cross for Today
4. Jonathan Kozol’s Amazing Grace: The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation
5. Rob Bell and Don Golden’s Jesus Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile
6. Donald Senior’s The Gospel of Matthew in the Interpreting Bible Texts Series
7. William Loader’s sermon “Passion Sunday”
8. Joshua V. Schneider’s sermon “The Man for Others”
9. Rev. Adrian Dieleman’s sermon “Mocked as a Prophet”
]]>Judas our Brother, Jesus’ Friendtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6182009-03-22T19:03:00Z2009-03-23T19:08:58ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comJohn 13:21-30 NRSV After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples – the one whom Jesus loved – was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the festival”; or, that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.
Matthew 26:45-52; 56 NRSV Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.” While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; with him was a large crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him.” At once he came up to Jesus and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you are here to do.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him. Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. And Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.”
“But all this has taken place, so that the scriptures of the prophets may be fulfilled.” Then the disciples deserted him and fled.
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
He knew what Jesus looked like. He knew how tall Jesus was. He knew the length and color of his hair and his beard. He knew the sound and cadence of Jesus’ voice. He knew what made Jesus laugh. He had seen Jesus cry. There had been nights when the two of them had carried on deep conversations long after the others had fallen asleep. He was a friend and follower of Jesus. His name was Judas.
The closeness of their relationship becomes all the more apparent when you look carefully at the events of the Last Supper.
We tend to have a picture of the Last Supper as Leonardo da Vinci painted it. Leonardo painted it in the style of a meal... a banquet in his time, with all of the disciples and Jesus sitting upright in chairs around a table. But in reality, they were reclining around a very low table, as they dined. At a meal in Jesus’ day, guests would recline on their left elbows, laying on couches, around a low table called a triclinium, with their right arms free to take the food and the drink.
Picture it like this: Perhaps this afternoon, if you watch the basketball game lying on the sofa, propped up on your left elbow and eating popcorn or pizza with your right hand, you’d be eating the same way the disciples did at the Last Supper
I invite you to picture this scene: there are three people reclining on a cushion. I’m in the middle of those three. There would be a person reclining on my right and his head would be near my chest; and for the person on my left, my head would be just about at their chest. And that’s how it is described here in John 13:25 when it says, “John, the beloved disciple, was leaning back against Jesus.” That meant John was reclining to Jesus’ right, with his head near Jesus’ chest.
In the King James version, it says it this way: “John was reclining at the bosom of Jesus.” When I was a kid in Sunday School, in about the 4th or 5th grade, this verse always made us boys giggle, because for adolescent boys in the 1950’s, the word “bosom” was a funny and forbidden word.
To say that John was reclining at the bosom of Jesus, simply meant that John was to Jesus’ right. But that meant that Jesus’ head was at the bosom or chest of the person at his left. Who was that? In ancient times, the person who was placed to the left of the host at a meal was considered to be in the seat of honor, because that person could share the most intimate dinner conversation with the host. And who was seated at the place of honor at the most famous dinner ever given? Judas! John says: “Then, dipping a piece of bread, he gave it to Judas....” Judas was such a close friend of Jesus -- such an honored disciple -- that at his Last Supper, Judas sat at Jesus’ left…in the place of honor.
So, one of the most baffling questions in the Bible is: How could someone who knew Jesus so well, who had walked and talked with him, who had followed him, who had eaten with him and was seated at the place of honor at the Last Supper...how could that person possibly do what Judas did? Was it really the money? Or, was it something else?
Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, in their day-by-day study of The Last Week of Jesus, say that in the events of that last week there is no hint of a motive. It could have been money. People do tragic things for a few dollars. But I don’t think that was it.
We may have a clue as to why Judas did what he did in a scene that comes earlier in the 6th chapter of John. It was just after the feeding of the 5000.
We’re told that after that miracle, the impoverished masses of people rose up and tried to make Jesus their king and that “Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.” (John 6:15)
But they continued to pursue Jesus, clamoring for him to become their king. And they kept on, until Jesus dealt with the issue once and for all. He said: “You seek me because you ate your fill of the bread. Do not labor for bread which perishes, but for bread which endures to eternal life….” (John 6:26-27)
And we’re told that from the moment Jesus renounced a political kingship, his popularity plummeted and many people abandoned him. And Jesus turned to the remaining disciples and said, “Do you wish to leave as well? There are some of you that do not believe.” (John 6:64). John editorializes, “For Jesus knew from the first who would betray him.” (John 6:71).
Could it be that at least one disciple still wanted Jesus to become king? Could it be that Judas thought that he could force Jesus’ hand…that he could precipitate a confrontation that would force Jesus to use his power and his ability to become King of the World? It’s an intriguing possibility!
If that is the case, then when Judas entered the Garden of Gethsemane, flanked by soldiers, his face may have glowed with anticipation. For he was thinking that a great revolution was about to begin and so he walked up to Jesus, called him “Master” and kissed Jesus.
But then Judas’ plan began to crumble as Jesus allowed himself to be led away and the tragic events of his humiliation and crucifixion unfolded. It was then that the reality of what he’d done came crashing down on Judas with the force of a sledgehammer. By trying to be the god of God, he’d become a tool of Satan. Judas had lost his dream, his Lord and was soon to lose his life. For scripture says: “Judas went out and hanged himself.”
It is a powerful, tragic and very human story! And from this story, I’d like to make two observations and two applications!
The first is this: It seems that Judas was perfectly willing to follow Jesus…until following involved a cross.
I think if Judas were here this morning, he might say to us, “Listen, before you judge me too harshly, you need to know that I followed Jesus further than any of you here in this room. For three years, I had no place to lay my head. I followed him up and down the dusty hills of Galilee; when Jesus got thrown out of the synagogue, I got thrown out; I endured all the same hardships. I only stopped short of going to the cross.”
Listen! It just may be that the difference between a faithful disciple and a Judas comes down to one question: Will we follow him to the cross?
It’s pretty easy to follow Jesus on Sunday morning! We all look and smell nice! We’re all on our best behavior; we live in the Bible Belt where being a Christian and going to church is the thing to do. But Jesus asks us: “Come Monday, will you take up your cross and follow me? Will you be crucified with me?”
What does that mean? It means that those of us who follow him will, in some way, have to participate in his death, live sacrificially and bear witness to his sacrifice and in doing so, come close to him and allow him to come close to us. It means that Jesus doesn’t want just a part of us. He wants all of us, just as he gave all of himself for us.
Consider this. How deep is your commitment to Christ? Is it just one of the many aspects of who we are? Or is it the defining principle above all others? Does your faith cause you to act differently from other people or to treat other people differently? Does it make you braver, more compassionate and generous? If someone looked at you would that person see reflected someway, somehow, the self-emptying love of Jesus Christ?
Clarence Jordan was the founder of the Koinonia community in Americus, Georgia. Out of that community, Habitat for Humanity was born. Jordan was known for saying that “Jesus has many admirers but few followers.”
Koinonia was always in trouble with authorities and neighbors because it was an interracial Christian community and because of its work with the poor. In the 1940’s and 50’s that was not acceptable in south Georgia. Clarence’s brother was a successful lawyer and was to become a state senator and Georgia Supreme Court Justice.
Once when Koinonia was in some legal trouble, Clarence asked his brother if he’d represent them in a legal action. His brother answered, “Clarence, I can’t do that. You know my political aspirations. If I represented you, I’d lose my job.”
Clarence said, “We might lose, too.”
His brother said, “It’s different for you.”
Clarence asked him: “Brother, why is it different? I seem to remember that you and I joined the church on the same Sunday as boys. When we came forward, the preacher asked me the same question he asked you. He asked: ‘Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?’ I said yes. What did you say?”
His brother said, “I follow Jesus, up to a point.”
“Could that point, by chance, be the cross?” asked Clarence.
“That’s right, Clarence,” said his brother. “I follow him to the cross, but I’m not going to get myself crucified.”
Then Clarence said to his brother, “I don’t believe you are a disciple of Jesus. You’re an admirer of Jesus but not a disciple. I think you ought to go back to the church you belong to and tell them you’re an admirer but not a disciple of Jesus.”
I think that may be how it was with Judas; he was an admirer, perhaps even a great admirer of Jesus, but not a true disciple. So a question for today is this: What about you? What about me? Are we admirers of Jesus or are we his disciples? Just how far are we willing to follow?
A second observation! Clearly, there were other disciples who failed and betrayed Jesus that first Holy Week.
In fact, we know a lot about one of them. Peter made a bold promise to stand by Jesus but disappeared the very moment Jesus met with trouble. He denied Jesus three times. At one point, he cursed and said, “Jesus who? I don’t even know this man.”
But Simon Peter wasn’t alone. None of the disciples did very well in the final twenty-four hours of Jesus’ life. With the exception of a few women, everyone let him down. Everyone betrayed him in one way or another.
So the second question this morning is: What about us?
This last week in eNews, I referenced the American Religious Identification Survey that reveals that in America, there is a significant decline in those who claim to be a Christian. One analyst said it like this: Many people see God as a “personal hobby” and for many “religion has become more like a fashion statement, not a deep personal commitment….” (ARIS)
We betray and deny Jesus when we think we can put on and take off our faith when it is convenient. We deny him when we compartmentalize our lives because it’s too inconvenient or too difficult to be a Christian at work. We betray him when we allow our anger to hurt those around us. We deny him when we do not keep the sacred commitments that we’ve made. And we betray him by our indifference to those hurting around us and when we refuse to forgive.
So, this Sunday as we look at Judas’ betrayal and remember Peter’s denial and the failure of the rest of the disciples, we have to acknowledge our own tendency to do the same.
But there’s Good News! When we read the stories of Judas, I wish that Judas had stuck around for a little while longer. I wish that he had not given in to the horror of his own betrayal. For if he had stuck around, he would have heard the word of hope that the others heard and that I want to share with you this morning.
That word of hope is found when the other betrayers, who upon realizing what they’d done, turned, not to despair, but back to Jesus, and he received them with open arms and forgave them.
Why, the first thing Jesus said, even as he was hanging on the cross, was “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” He forgave them all!
The late Lewis Grizzard was a newspaper columnist and essayist known for his offbeat, often outrageous southern humor. Beneath the laughter, however, was a sadness – a life of personal suffering and loss. And some of Grizzard's pain came from his troubled relationship with his dad, an alcoholic who left the family when Grizzard was a kid.
Lewis Grizzard wrote: “Before he died, I asked Daddy a thousand times, ‘What is wrong? Why can't you stay sober? Why can't you stay in one place? What can be so bad that you can't talk about it?’” His father would or could not give a direct answer.
Grizzard says, “One day I pled with my father to tell me what was wrong in his life. I told my dad that it didn't matter what it was, no matter how terrible, that I loved him whatever the awful truth.” But his father could not respond. He could only weep, sobbing out words that he’d made “a bad mistake.”
“That's all I ever got,” said Grizzard. “He died, so far as I know, with his secret intact. What terrible secret did he have? Did he kill somebody? Did he rob or cheat somebody? Was he a child molester? I can think of no more unthinkables. Yet, no matter, whatever his sin, his secret, I loved him and I love him anyway.”
What a moving tribute from a son to a wayward father! Yet in a vastly more powerful way, it is the description of the Gospel itself, of the unwavering love that Jesus has for all of us, all of us who, like Judas, have secrets too shameful to tell. For Jesus says: “Whatever your sin, I love you anyway!”
There is an ancient legend about Judas. It says that after his death, Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For a thousand years, Judas wept bitter tears of repentance in this dark, slimy pit. When all of his tears were spent, he looked up and way, way up he saw a tiny glimmer of light. After he’d contemplated that light for another thousand years, he began to try to climb up towards the light. The walls of the pit were dark and slimy and he kept slipping back down.
Finally, after great effort, he neared the top but then slipped and fell all the way back down to the bottom. It took him many, many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again.
After many efforts and failures, he finally reached the top and found himself back in the upper room where twelve people gathered around the table ready to share a scrumptious meal and the finest wine. It was Jesus and the other disciples.
And when Jesus saw Judas he said, “We've been waiting for you, Judas. We could not begin until you came.”
That is the depth of the love of the cross.
Let us pray. O God, we give you thanks for your great grace, that you don’t want to start that great heavenly banquet until all come home. Surround us with your grace, move us with that grace, and shape us by it. For we pray in the name of Christ. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
]]>Judas our Brother, Jesus’ Friendtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6192009-03-22T19:03:00Z2009-03-23T19:09:36ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comJohn 13:21-30 NRSV After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples – the one whom Jesus loved – was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the festival”; or, that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.
Matthew 26:45-52; 56 NRSV Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.” While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; with him was a large crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him.” At once he came up to Jesus and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you are here to do.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him. Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. And Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.”
“But all this has taken place, so that the scriptures of the prophets may be fulfilled.” Then the disciples deserted him and fled.
Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove; descend on us, reveal your love. Word of God and inward light, wake our spirits; clear our sight. Surround us now with all your glory; speak through me that sacred story. Take my lips and make them bold. Take hearts and minds and make them whole. Stir in us that sacred flame; then send us forth to spread your name. Amen.
He knew what Jesus looked like. He knew how tall Jesus was. He knew the length and color of his hair and his beard. He knew the sound and cadence of Jesus’ voice. He knew what made Jesus laugh. He had seen Jesus cry. There had been nights when the two of them had carried on deep conversations long after the others had fallen asleep. He was a friend and follower of Jesus. His name was Judas.
The closeness of their relationship becomes all the more apparent when you look carefully at the events of the Last Supper.
We tend to have a picture of the Last Supper as Leonardo da Vinci painted it. Leonardo painted it in the style of a meal... a banquet in his time, with all of the disciples and Jesus sitting upright in chairs around a table. But in reality, they were reclining around a very low table, as they dined. At a meal in Jesus’ day, guests would recline on their left elbows, laying on couches, around a low table called a triclinium, with their right arms free to take the food and the drink.
Picture it like this: Perhaps this afternoon, if you watch the basketball game lying on the sofa, propped up on your left elbow and eating popcorn or pizza with your right hand, you’d be eating the same way the disciples did at the Last Supper
I invite you to picture this scene: there are three people reclining on a cushion. I’m in the middle of those three. There would be a person reclining on my right and his head would be near my chest; and for the person on my left, my head would be just about at their chest. And that’s how it is described here in John 13:25 when it says, “John, the beloved disciple, was leaning back against Jesus.” That meant John was reclining to Jesus’ right, with his head near Jesus’ chest.
In the King James version, it says it this way: “John was reclining at the bosom of Jesus.” When I was a kid in Sunday School, in about the 4th or 5th grade, this verse always made us boys giggle, because for adolescent boys in the 1950’s, the word “bosom” was a funny and forbidden word.
To say that John was reclining at the bosom of Jesus, simply meant that John was to Jesus’ right. But that meant that Jesus’ head was at the bosom or chest of the person at his left. Who was that? In ancient times, the person who was placed to the left of the host at a meal was considered to be in the seat of honor, because that person could share the most intimate dinner conversation with the host. And who was seated at the place of honor at the most famous dinner ever given? Judas! John says: “Then, dipping a piece of bread, he gave it to Judas....” Judas was such a close friend of Jesus -- such an honored disciple -- that at his Last Supper, Judas sat at Jesus’ left…in the place of honor.
So, one of the most baffling questions in the Bible is: How could someone who knew Jesus so well, who had walked and talked with him, who had followed him, who had eaten with him and was seated at the place of honor at the Last Supper...how could that person possibly do what Judas did? Was it really the money? Or, was it something else?
Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, in their day-by-day study of The Last Week of Jesus, say that in the events of that last week there is no hint of a motive. It could have been money. People do tragic things for a few dollars. But I don’t think that was it.
We may have a clue as to why Judas did what he did in a scene that comes earlier in the 6th chapter of John. It was just after the feeding of the 5000.
We’re told that after that miracle, the impoverished masses of people rose up and tried to make Jesus their king and that “Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.” (John 6:15)
But they continued to pursue Jesus, clamoring for him to become their king. And they kept on, until Jesus dealt with the issue once and for all. He said: “You seek me because you ate your fill of the bread. Do not labor for bread which perishes, but for bread which endures to eternal life….” (John 6:26-27)
And we’re told that from the moment Jesus renounced a political kingship, his popularity plummeted and many people abandoned him. And Jesus turned to the remaining disciples and said, “Do you wish to leave as well? There are some of you that do not believe.” (John 6:64). John editorializes, “For Jesus knew from the first who would betray him.” (John 6:71).
Could it be that at least one disciple still wanted Jesus to become king? Could it be that Judas thought that he could force Jesus’ hand…that he could precipitate a confrontation that would force Jesus to use his power and his ability to become King of the World? It’s an intriguing possibility!
If that is the case, then when Judas entered the Garden of Gethsemane, flanked by soldiers, his face may have glowed with anticipation. For he was thinking that a great revolution was about to begin and so he walked up to Jesus, called him “Master” and kissed Jesus.
But then Judas’ plan began to crumble as Jesus allowed himself to be led away and the tragic events of his humiliation and crucifixion unfolded. It was then that the reality of what he’d done came crashing down on Judas with the force of a sledgehammer. By trying to be the god of God, he’d become a tool of Satan. Judas had lost his dream, his Lord and was soon to lose his life. For scripture says: “Judas went out and hanged himself.”
It is a powerful, tragic and very human story! And from this story, I’d like to make two observations and two applications!
The first is this: It seems that Judas was perfectly willing to follow Jesus…until following involved a cross.
I think if Judas were here this morning, he might say to us, “Listen, before you judge me too harshly, you need to know that I followed Jesus further than any of you here in this room. For three years, I had no place to lay my head. I followed him up and down the dusty hills of Galilee; when Jesus got thrown out of the synagogue, I got thrown out; I endured all the same hardships. I only stopped short of going to the cross.”
Listen! It just may be that the difference between a faithful disciple and a Judas comes down to one question: Will we follow him to the cross?
It’s pretty easy to follow Jesus on Sunday morning! We all look and smell nice! We’re all on our best behavior; we live in the Bible Belt where being a Christian and going to church is the thing to do. But Jesus asks us: “Come Monday, will you take up your cross and follow me? Will you be crucified with me?”
What does that mean? It means that those of us who follow him will, in some way, have to participate in his death, live sacrificially and bear witness to his sacrifice and in doing so, come close to him and allow him to come close to us. It means that Jesus doesn’t want just a part of us. He wants all of us, just as he gave all of himself for us.
Consider this. How deep is your commitment to Christ? Is it just one of the many aspects of who we are? Or is it the defining principle above all others? Does your faith cause you to act differently from other people or to treat other people differently? Does it make you braver, more compassionate and generous? If someone looked at you would that person see reflected someway, somehow, the self-emptying love of Jesus Christ?
Clarence Jordan was the founder of the Koinonia community in Americus, Georgia. Out of that community, Habitat for Humanity was born. Jordan was known for saying that “Jesus has many admirers but few followers.”
Koinonia was always in trouble with authorities and neighbors because it was an interracial Christian community and because of its work with the poor. In the 1940’s and 50’s that was not acceptable in south Georgia. Clarence’s brother was a successful lawyer and was to become a state senator and Georgia Supreme Court Justice.
Once when Koinonia was in some legal trouble, Clarence asked his brother if he’d represent them in a legal action. His brother answered, “Clarence, I can’t do that. You know my political aspirations. If I represented you, I’d lose my job.”
Clarence said, “We might lose, too.”
His brother said, “It’s different for you.”
Clarence asked him: “Brother, why is it different? I seem to remember that you and I joined the church on the same Sunday as boys. When we came forward, the preacher asked me the same question he asked you. He asked: ‘Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?’ I said yes. What did you say?”
His brother said, “I follow Jesus, up to a point.”
“Could that point, by chance, be the cross?” asked Clarence.
“That’s right, Clarence,” said his brother. “I follow him to the cross, but I’m not going to get myself crucified.”
Then Clarence said to his brother, “I don’t believe you are a disciple of Jesus. You’re an admirer of Jesus but not a disciple. I think you ought to go back to the church you belong to and tell them you’re an admirer but not a disciple of Jesus.”
I think that may be how it was with Judas; he was an admirer, perhaps even a great admirer of Jesus, but not a true disciple. So a question for today is this: What about you? What about me? Are we admirers of Jesus or are we his disciples? Just how far are we willing to follow?
A second observation! Clearly, there were other disciples who failed and betrayed Jesus that first Holy Week.
In fact, we know a lot about one of them. Peter made a bold promise to stand by Jesus but disappeared the very moment Jesus met with trouble. He denied Jesus three times. At one point, he cursed and said, “Jesus who? I don’t even know this man.”
But Simon Peter wasn’t alone. None of the disciples did very well in the final twenty-four hours of Jesus’ life. With the exception of a few women, everyone let him down. Everyone betrayed him in one way or another.
So the second question this morning is: What about us?
This last week in eNews, I referenced the American Religious Identification Survey that reveals that in America, there is a significant decline in those who claim to be a Christian. One analyst said it like this: Many people see God as a “personal hobby” and for many “religion has become more like a fashion statement, not a deep personal commitment….” (ARIS)
We betray and deny Jesus when we think we can put on and take off our faith when it is convenient. We deny him when we compartmentalize our lives because it’s too inconvenient or too difficult to be a Christian at work. We betray him when we allow our anger to hurt those around us. We deny him when we do not keep the sacred commitments that we’ve made. And we betray him by our indifference to those hurting around us and when we refuse to forgive.
So, this Sunday as we look at Judas’ betrayal and remember Peter’s denial and the failure of the rest of the disciples, we have to acknowledge our own tendency to do the same.
But there’s Good News! When we read the stories of Judas, I wish that Judas had stuck around for a little while longer. I wish that he had not given in to the horror of his own betrayal. For if he had stuck around, he would have heard the word of hope that the others heard and that I want to share with you this morning.
That word of hope is found when the other betrayers, who upon realizing what they’d done, turned, not to despair, but back to Jesus, and he received them with open arms and forgave them.
Why, the first thing Jesus said, even as he was hanging on the cross, was “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” He forgave them all!
The late Lewis Grizzard was a newspaper columnist and essayist known for his offbeat, often outrageous southern humor. Beneath the laughter, however, was a sadness – a life of personal suffering and loss. And some of Grizzard's pain came from his troubled relationship with his dad, an alcoholic who left the family when Grizzard was a kid.
Lewis Grizzard wrote: “Before he died, I asked Daddy a thousand times, ‘What is wrong? Why can't you stay sober? Why can't you stay in one place? What can be so bad that you can't talk about it?’” His father would or could not give a direct answer.
Grizzard says, “One day I pled with my father to tell me what was wrong in his life. I told my dad that it didn't matter what it was, no matter how terrible, that I loved him whatever the awful truth.” But his father could not respond. He could only weep, sobbing out words that he’d made “a bad mistake.”
“That's all I ever got,” said Grizzard. “He died, so far as I know, with his secret intact. What terrible secret did he have? Did he kill somebody? Did he rob or cheat somebody? Was he a child molester? I can think of no more unthinkables. Yet, no matter, whatever his sin, his secret, I loved him and I love him anyway.”
What a moving tribute from a son to a wayward father! Yet in a vastly more powerful way, it is the description of the Gospel itself, of the unwavering love that Jesus has for all of us, all of us who, like Judas, have secrets too shameful to tell. For Jesus says: “Whatever your sin, I love you anyway!”
There is an ancient legend about Judas. It says that after his death, Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For a thousand years, Judas wept bitter tears of repentance in this dark, slimy pit. When all of his tears were spent, he looked up and way, way up he saw a tiny glimmer of light. After he’d contemplated that light for another thousand years, he began to try to climb up towards the light. The walls of the pit were dark and slimy and he kept slipping back down.
Finally, after great effort, he neared the top but then slipped and fell all the way back down to the bottom. It took him many, many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again.
After many efforts and failures, he finally reached the top and found himself back in the upper room where twelve people gathered around the table ready to share a scrumptious meal and the finest wine. It was Jesus and the other disciples.
And when Jesus saw Judas he said, “We've been waiting for you, Judas. We could not begin until you came.”
That is the depth of the love of the cross.
Let us pray. O God, we give you thanks for your great grace, that you don’t want to start that great heavenly banquet until all come home. Surround us with your grace, move us with that grace, and shape us by it. For we pray in the name of Christ. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
]]>Disappointedtag:germantownumc.org,2009:index.php/6.6202009-03-15T15:03:01Z2009-03-24T15:07:54ZDaniel Turnerdturner@intermixdesign.comMatthew 26:36-46 NIV Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.” He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.” When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed for the third time, saying the same thing. Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”
This is the Word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
Let us pray. Dear Lord God, right now we just ask that you calm us down, Lord, and fill us up with the presence of your Holy Spirit. Let your light and power light on our minds, our mouths, our hearts, Lord. I ask that you especially anoint my mouth and my heart, Lord, so that everything I say will be done to glorify and magnify you. Lord, I ask that you let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and redeemer. Amen.
In thinking about the Scripture lesson here today, I thought I would start out by sharing a little story with you about this couple who were sharing their wedding anniversary. As always, wives tend to get more excited than their husbands, and the wife was so excited on the day before her anniversary. She was flitting around the house and said, “Tomorrow, honey, I bet there will be something in the driveway for me that is shiny and that goes from zero to 200 in about two seconds.” The next morning, the wife went outside and found a small box in the driveway that had her name on it. She opened it and found a bathroom scale – all shiny and new!
Can you imagine her disappointment? I wanted to share this story because this tells us...maybe in not such a dramatic way...but all throughout life, we all deal with some type of disappointment – whether it is disappointment from our job, disappointment from our family, or disappointment from our friends. You see, disappointment in our lives is inevitable. It is not a matter of “if” you will be disappointed; it is a matter of “when” you’ll be disappointed.
Have you ever asked God: “Why, Lord, did you allow my friend or loved one to get so sick?” “Why, Lord, did you allow my situation to get so bad?” What did you do? Did you throw a temper tantrum? Did you close the door to your room? Or did you go on strike with God by not attending church, or not tithing, or finding something else to do?
Many of us enjoy being allowed to do whatever we want to do, but the challenge comes when we don’t get what we want. And when we don’t get what we want, and if we are not able to do what we want, we get disappointed.
And it is in our text today that we see how Jesus asks for support and a little encouragement, and he doesn’t get it. Jesus, in fact, is disappointed in one of his darkest hours. Jesus gives us an example as to how we should handle disappointments -- how to handle the situation when our friends and loved ones let us down.
These words by author Max Lucado from his book, And the Angels Were Silent, describe the scene well: “The final encounter of the battle has begun. As Jesus looks at the city of Jerusalem, He sees what the disciples can’t.... He sees the Evil One preparing for the final encounter.... Hell is breaking loose.... History records it as a battle of the Jews against Jesus. It wasn’t.... It was a battle of God against Satan. AND JESUS KNEW IT. He knew that before the war was over, he would be taken captive. He knew that before victory would come defeat. He knew that before the throne would come the cup. He knew that before the light of Sunday, would come the blackness of Friday...AND HE IS AFRAID.”
Here is a very different picture of Jesus. We don’t often think of Jesus being afraid, needing a little support from his friends -- the disciples -- but He was. He could not be human without really knowing what it meant to be afraid, especially of His own impending death. But that leads us to another helpful question: How did Jesus face his fear?
Beginning this Sunday, we will be focusing on “Following Jesus to the Cross – The Way of the Cross.” To see not only WHAT Jesus experienced for us, but also HOW Jesus approached His death. What was Jesus’ attitude? What did Jesus do on the way to the cross? What was important to Jesus as the time of His death drew closer?
Well, here we learn that two things are very important to Jesus: friends (relationships) and prayer. He knew that in spite of all of his efforts, his disciples barely understood the significance of this night; they had only the barest perception of what he was going to do for them, and even for us. He knew that in many ways -- though the disciples were with him bodily -- he was very much alone. It was in this way that Jesus entered the Garden of Gethsemane.
In the same way, we enter it as well. We enter our Gethsemane because of betrayal, disappointment, loneliness, loss, hopelessness, or despair.
Today, we look at how Jesus handled disappointment. Let’s look at what Jesus did there, to understand what we can do as we enter our own Garden of Gethsemane. You see, Jesus pursued relationships as we see in Matthew 26:36-38. Jesus drew friends around him in times of trouble, and at this moment in the Garden of Gethsemane -- one of the most difficult days of his life -- Jesus asked his friends, the disciples, to stay with him, and to watch and pray with him. In other words, Jesus drew his friends in with him as support during this troubling period on his way to the cross.
At this point, I want you to think about Jesus’ actions and then ask yourself: Is this what you do? Or, do you go into the garden alone -- that time of great despair?
You see, Jesus is teaching us that it is during times such as these that we need to be with the Body of Christ the most. Instead of withdrawing from everybody like some of us tend to do, we need to take the risk of asking someone to share our pain and anguish and to come with us in the garden. But then we may say, “I can’t be bothered sometimes because people let you down and they disappoint you” just like the disciples disappointed Jesus.
We know from the Scripture that when Jesus came back to his close friends, they were all asleep. All Jesus asked them to do was watch, stay alert, keep your eyes open, watch and pray.
I want us to consider here the sleeping disciples. You see, Jesus asked them three different times to keep watch and pray. Each time when he returned from the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus found the disciples to be asleep. They disappointed him each time. But why were the disciples sleeping?
In some ways, I have much sympathy for the disciples -- the hour was late, they had just shared a meal together with Jesus, so they more than likely had full stomachs; they had been walking, and there was Jesus asking them to watch and pray.
I don’t know about you, but when I think of sleep, it conjures up a number of excuses and associations. Some people need more sleep than others. Some, like me, can get by with 5-6 hours. Others may need 7-8 hours of sleep. Sometimes, Brothers and Sisters, we SLEEP at the wrong times and in the wrong places, don’t we?
You see, some of us could very well identify with those disciples. When we’re full, we tend to sleep. When we’re worried or depressed, we tend to sleep. Don’t you know the disciples had to have been a little worried about Jesus? When we’re tired from working or playing all day, we sleep. When we are bored, we sleep. When a preacher doesn’t have a good sermon, we sleep! When there is a newborn baby in the house, some of us wish and pray for a moment – to sleep.
In thinking about sleep, I am also reminded of a time in my life when I was in the hospital about to deliver our son when things started going the wrong way – dangerously so. I learned that my blood count was so low that there was not enough oxygen for both the baby and me, so I had to be placed on oxygen. Then the doctor told me that all of my vitals and various other signs were indicating that I was about to give birth to a pretty sick baby and they assured me that they were paging the best neonatal doctor who was on his way to the hospital.
In the meantime, they wanted me to stay in a certain position, to give the baby a better chance of surviving which meant that they were placing me in restraints so I would not move or turn. I did not know what to think or say. I looked at my husband and he reassured me that everything would work out.
For a brief moment, I closed my eyes to pray when I was awakened by a sound of loud snoring. To my dismay, it was my husband. Why was he sleeping? Wasn’t he supposed to be awake to keep watch over me? You better believe, I was absolutely disappointed! My husband finally woke up and apologized, but he could not stay awake.
After the birth of our son, I asked my husband why he couldn’t stay awake. He said listening to everything made him realize that he had two people who were pretty ill, and it became too much for him to bear, and sleep became the coping mechanism for him. He just couldn’t keep his eyes open.
I never considered the weight and burden he had to carry for that moment. This is why I can understand the disciples. The disciples show their humanness by failing to do what Jesus had asked of them. But just as the disciples showed their humanness, Jesus demonstrated how to move past disappointments and how to stay focused on what really should matter to each and every one of us.
Jesus continued to pursue the disciples even after they failed him again, and again, and again (v. 43-45). Jesus continued to give the disciples an opportunity or another chance to support and encourage him.
It is here that we can probably say that this companionship -- this unity of Spirit -- was something very important to Jesus. This is so unlike us. You see, we get sidetracked because we tend to give up on people too quickly, especially when we really need them and they’re not there for us. We become paralyzed and bogged down with the question: Where were you when I needed you? You see, we automatically assume that they didn’t care.
Sometimes, Brothers and Sisters, I believe that we, too, forget that we disappoint people as much as they disappoint us. Maybe, as Luke 22:45 says, perhaps through sorrow they’re passing through their own GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE. But whatever the reasons, if anybody disappoints us, we should not be silent. Talk to them like Jesus talked to the disciples! Often times, people really want to be there for you and they can, if we don’t give up.
As we see the Garden of Gethsemane, we can see the picture of Christ standing alone, praying “thy will be done” – but urging the disciples to “Stay awake and pray” that they might be a people who would not fall asleep and become self-reliant, but would be committed to prayer. How true it is that though the flesh is weak, we have a Spirit that is more than willing to help us in our prayer.
I believe we live in an age where these words of Christ are more relevant than ever. You see, Church, disappointment is around every corner. Disappointment is there if one’s spouse is unfaithful, disappointment is there in our job market and job stability due to our economic crisis, disappointment is there as we continue to strive for the bigger and better, disappointment is there as we see some trying to hide Christ from those who need him. Yet, the words of Christ come back to speak to us: “Watch and pray, watch and pray.” Every day, we should let these words of Christ ring out -- “Watch how you live, watch what you do, watch who you are copying, watch your lives, watch how you treat your neighbors, and commit them in prayer to Jesus. “Watch and pray, watch and pray.”
Will we listen to these last words of Jesus to us from the Garden of Gethsemane on the way to the cross? Yes, the body is weak – but how good it is that the Spirit is stronger -- so strong that we do not have to be disappointed. We simply, but profoundly, must take it to the Lord in prayer and do not lose time worrying about who is with us or who is not -- we need to be focused and pray to God, just like Jesus.
Don’t waste time like the disciples, sleeping instead of praying. You will not be disappointed. Stay awake! Watch and pray! Watch and pray! Be alert! Stay awake!
Let us pray. Dear Lord God, right now we thank you for the opportunity to come to you in prayer, Lord, and we ask that you continue to allow us to watch and pray so that “thy will be done.” It is in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
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Endnotes: This sermon is based, in part, upon material from the following sources:
1. Max Lucado, And the Angels Were Silent: Walking with Christ toward the Cross. Nashville TN: W Publishing Group, a Division of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
2. Lynwood Morriss, “The Garden of Gethsemane,” sermon
3. The New Interpreter’s Bible – A Commentary in Twelve Volumes (2000). Nashville TN: Abington Press.
