Fire at Little Portion Hermitage

This is a personal post unrelated to the ministry of Trinity Church.

This morning I learned of a major fire at Little Portion Hermitage in Berryville, Arkansas, the monastic community founded by John Michael Talbot and the home of the Brothers and Sisters of Charity. It destroyed several buildings, all the community's archives and books, and all the stock of Troubadour for the Lord, the music label and publishing house founded by John Michael. It is a very significant loss for this faith community and my prayers are with them. Thanks be to God that no lives were lost and no one was seriously injured.

John Michael Talbot has been the musical inspiration for a generation of Christian singer-songwriters; I count myself among them though my abilities are meager and my efforts nonprofessional. His contemplative style formed my own musical tastes and direction and has made its way into church services and hymnals around the world. Perhaps you've heard or sung Come, Worship the Lord, John Michael's setting of Psalm 95.

I know that the community will receive a tremendous outpouring of love and concern and will certainly rebuild as financial constraints allow. As they even now look to the future I join my prayers with countless others:

Almighty God, who through your Son taught us not to lay up for ourselves treasures on earth but rather in heaven where nothing can destroy: Bless your servants John Michael and the Brothers and Sisters of Charity who have renounced earthly goods for the sake of the Kingdom; provide for their needs, give them the grace and comfort of the Holy Spirit, and grant that their lives may give witness to the bounties of your love; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

http://johnmichaeltalbot.blogspot.com/ is a link to John Michael Talbot's blog which contains the latest news and photographs of the fire.

Sermon: 6 Easter (27 April 2008)

6 Easter: 27 April 2007
(Acts 17:22-31/Psalm 66:8-20/1 Peter 3:13-22/John 14:15-21)
Cultural Myths

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In my former career as an electrical engineer I had a colleague that we’ll call Bob. Now Bob was more than just a competent engineer; he was really good – some might even say great. Bob would have said great. I always had the impression that no matter to whom he was talking, Bob was sure that he, himself, was the most intelligent person in the room. He knew he was the better engineer: not arrogant, exactly, just supremely confident.

Our respective jobs sometimes brought us into professional disagreement. We would each argue our position – mainly because we each thought we were right, but sometimes just to win the argument. And, because I’d seen it happen to other people, I knew that at some point in the debate Bob would stop me mid-sentence and say, “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me,” and then finish his question by paraphrasing something I’d just said in a way that made it sound incredibly stupid, something that no rational person in his right mind could possibly believe. There was always a you-can’t-be-serious tone to Bob’s voice that let me know he had found the weak link in my argument – or at least that he thought he had. At such times I had a decision to make: roll over and admit defeat and buy Bob a cup of government coffee or stick to my guns, strengthen my argument, and fight on. I think my record was about 50/50.

I hadn’t thought of Bob in years until this week, until I began work on this sermon. I wouldn’t want Bob to hear this sermon because I think he would interrupt me time and again to say, “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me…”. In fact, I think you’ll want to interrupt me several times in Bob-like fashion, because I’m about to say some things that sound incredibly stupid, things that no rational person in his right mind could possibly believe. But people with the mind of Christ and the discernment of the Holy Spirit – people like Peter? Well, that’s another story.

So, let me dispense with these possible objections right now, right up front. “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me…?” to which I answer, No. I don’t mean to tell you anything. I mean to let the Holy Spirit, speaking through Peter in the words of Scripture, tell us all something. If what I say is true to the Scripture – and I pray it is – then these aren’t my words. I don’t like them any more than you will and I won’t take the blame for them. Take it up with the author; I’m just the messenger. This is what William Willimon calls “hiding behind the text.” He recommends it as a strategy for cowardly preachers, to which group all preachers belong at one time or another.

With that preamble, I want to talk about submission and suffering. I don’t really want to; I have to. You simply can’t do justice to 1 Peter without grappling with the issues of submission and suffering; they are major themes of the epistle. I start with a few observations about modern, western culture. These are subject to dispute because they are my observations and my conclusions. I can’t hide behind the text here; you can reasonably challenge and question and disagree if you like. I use these solely as an entryway into the text itself – which is the only really important thing – because I’ve found the context they provide useful. Feel free to “keep or toss” these ideas of mine as you will.

It seems to me that every culture has a set of myths it lives by: stories, icons, and beliefs that define the culture and allow it to be passed intact to the next generation. These are often such a deeply embedded part of the cultural landscape that we no longer see them; they form us without our conscious knowledge or approval. Only when they are explicitly pointed out, perhaps by someone from another culture or a maverick within our own, do we even become aware of them.

Out of the host of such modern, western myths I’ll single out three: the importance of power, the avoidance of suffering, and the right to redemptive retaliation.

The quest for power is such a part of our cultural psyche that we can’t imagine people not wanting power. Tim Allen – Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor – is the archetype of modern, western man: “More power! Ooh, ooh, ooh!” Another movie, different character, same attitude: In Galaxy Quest as Commander Taggart, Allen’s signature line is, “Never give up. Never surrender.” That’s what we expect from our cultural icons. They may be tragically flawed, morally questionable, self-serving – it doesn’t so much matter as long as they are not weak. Think of Bill Clinton as the poster boy for this. We don’t really believe our politicians are interested in public service, do we? They’re in it to win it. They’re in it for the power and we understand that and we’re largely OK with that so long as they take care of our interests and keep our nation in a position of power. We know that our nation is founded on and sustained by power: military and economic power predominantly. That’s why we’re so worried by our floundering economy and China’s expanding one. That’s why we’re so frustrated by the ability of local Iraqi militias to frustrate the greatest military power the world has known. We have deeply internalized the importance of power. It is a powerful cultural myth.

We run toward power and seek it out; conversely, we run away from suffering and do everything possible to avoid it. We must be the most anesthetized culture in the history of our species. Since suffering comes in so many different forms – physical, mental, and spiritual to name a few – anesthetics do also. Medicine cabinets look like pharmacies, with pills or creams for every ache and pain. If the suffering is emotional or mental we try to deaden it with busy-ness or entertainment – anything to keep our minds off the dull ache or emptiness inside. Blaise Pascal said that, “All mankind’s troubles are caused by one single thing, which is their inability to sit quietly in a room,” (Pascal, Pensees, II, 139). If he’s right, I suspect that we can’t sit still because the anesthesia wears off in the quietness and we feel the suffering too intensely. On both ends of the spectrum of life we invent ways to keep people from suffering: abortion to prevent a child from having to deal with suffering from genetic abnormalities or other birth defects and euthanasia to keep our old folks from suffering through the infirmities caused by advancing years. Better to die than to suffer, I guess. At least that’s the cultural myth we’ve inherited.

And, if you’re the one who makes me suffer, then I have the right to redemptive retaliation. This myth plays out on a trivial personal level and a significant state and national level. Cut me off in traffic – make me suffer the indignity of your disrespect and loss of two or three seconds – and I have the right to retaliate by throwing you the bird or screaming at you as I floor the accelerator and blow by you. And somehow I believe that will redeem the situation: the right of redemptive retaliation. A husband mistreats a wife and the wife finds a way to retaliate and this redemptive plan ends in divorce. A horrific crime is committed as we’ve seen lately in our own city and everyone wants redemptive retaliation. I’m not arguing against punishment for the perpetrators or the right of the society to protect itself by removing such people from society, but I question the redemptive character of such actions. Will executing or incarcerating these criminals for life actually bring good out of this situation? Is that where redemption lies? On a national level, after the 9/11 attacks our country was swept up in patriotic furor and demanded the right of redemptive retaliation. Our politicians listened to our cries for retribution and now we find ourselves engaged in wars on two fronts. If we looked for redemption in this retaliation, we looked in vain.

So, as a modern, western culture we are formed by and we greatly cherish several cultural myths: the importance of power, the avoidance of suffering, and the right to redemptive retaliation. And then along comes Jesus and blows them all away. He just doesn’t seem to care much for this great culture we’ve created. He’s more interested in the Kingdom of God, and that Kingdom has its own ways – nothing like our prevailing cultural myths. The importance of power is replaced by the beauty of submission, the avoidance of suffering by the acceptance of suffering, and the right of redemptive retaliation by the gift of gracious blessing. “Now wait a minute. You mean to tell me that I should submit to authority, embrace suffering, and bless those who persecute me?” No. Remember, I don’t mean to tell you anything. I mean to let the Holy Spirit, speaking through Peter in the words of Scripture, tell us all something. If what I say is true to the Scripture – and I pray it is – then these aren’t my words. I don’t like them any more than you do and I won’t take the blame for them. Take it up with the author; I’m just the messenger.

But first let’s listen to the message together.

13 For the Lord’s sake accept the authority of every human institution, whether of the emperor as supreme, 14or of governors, as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right. 15For it is God’s will that by doing right you should silence the ignorance of the foolish. 16As servants of God, live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil. 17Honour everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honour the emperor.

18 Slaves, accept the authority of your masters with all deference, not only those who are kind and gentle but also those who are harsh. 19For it is to your credit if, being aware of God, you endure pain while suffering unjustly. 20If you endure when you are beaten for doing wrong, where is the credit in that? But if you endure when you do right and suffer for it, you have God’s approval. 21For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps. 22‘He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.’ 23When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. 24He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, free from sins, we might live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. 25For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.

3Wives, in the same way, accept the authority of your husbands, so that, even if some of them do not obey the word, they may be won over without a word by their wives’ conduct, 2when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. 3Do not adorn yourselves outwardly by braiding your hair, and by wearing gold ornaments or fine clothing; 4rather, let your adornment be the inner self with the lasting beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in God’s sight. 5It was in this way long ago that the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves by accepting the authority of their husbands. 6Thus Sarah obeyed Abraham and called him lord. You have become her daughters as long as you do what is good and never let fears alarm you (1 Pe 2:13-3:6)[1].

In this one passage, Peter demolishes our three, precious cultural myths.

The importance of power? No. Instead, accept the authority of every human institution. Slaves, accept the authority of your masters – kind or harsh. Wives, accept the authority of your husbands. Well, there’s much here we want to argue about. Does Peter intend to ratify oppressive régimes, endorse slavery, and promote male dominance? Do you see how these questions, which seem perfectly legitimate to us, are products of our cultural myth of the importance of power? We can’t imagine willingly submitting, willingly relinquishing power. But Peter points to Jesus who told us that, in the Kingdom of God, the last shall be first and the first last, the greatest among us must be servant of all, and our own will is nothing but God’s will is everything. Submission to authority and not the pursuit of power is the way of the Kingdom.

The avoidance of suffering? No. Instead, suffer for doing right and receive God’s approval and blessing. Again, Peter points to Jesus as our example and reminds us that we have been called to follow in his way of suffering. There is nothing redemptive about retaliation, but there is about suffering for the sake of righteousness. The suffering of Jesus brought the redemption of the world. Our suffering can participate in that and implement his redemption in the world. Peter encourages us to,

Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame. 17For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God’s will, than to suffer for doing evil. 18For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God (1 Pe 3:16-18).

Jesus told us to take up his cross and follow him in his way of suffering, to embrace the discipleship of the cross, a discipleship that surely will bring hardship and suffering. Endure the cross for the sake of the glory to be revealed in us when Christ returns. Let’s be clear; our cross is not the ordinary suffering common to all people: sickness, death, economic reversal – all the problems we encounter in Job. We should bear all these things in Christian hope and patience, but they are not the cross. The cross is that suffering peculiar to disciples, the suffering that comes precisely from being disciples. Our brothers and sisters around the world – in China, Indonesia, Viet Nam, Nigeria – they know the suffering of the cross. While we may not experience it now, we are to support those in the church who do, knowing that our time may come.

Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured (Heb 13:3).

Do not avoid suffering for the sake of righteousness. Embrace it; for by it we bear witness to the suffering of Christ who died for the salvation of the world.

The right of redemptive retaliation? No. Instead, when abused do not return abuse. When threatened, do not return threats. Why? Because this is the example and the way of Christ who taught us that the meek would inherit the earth, the merciful would receive mercy, and the persecuted would reap great reward in heaven. Because this is the example and the way of Christ who taught us to turn the other cheek, to walk the extra mile, and to bless when cursed. Because this is the example and the way of Christ who told Peter to put away the sword because those who live by the sword will also die by it.

“Now wait a minute. You mean to tell me that we should submit to authority, embrace suffering, and bless those who abuse us?” No. I don’t mean to tell you anything. But Peter does.

Amen.





[1] Unless otherwise noted all scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America.

Sermon: 5 Easter (20 April 2008)

5 Easter: 20 April 2008
(Acts 7:55-60/Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16/1 Peter 2:2-10/John 14:1-14)
Worries

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In retrospect much of history seems inevitable to me; looking back, I can’t really imagine things turning out much differently than they did. There’s a genre of literature though – alternate historical fiction – in which writers think outside the historical box and twist the outcomes of major events:

A British victory in the Revolutionary War, charges of treason for all the signers of the Declaration of Independence with swift executions following, the colonies remaining under British rule – no United States of America;

A Confederate victory in the Civil war, dissolution of the Union, a continuing slave economy in the southern states;

A German development of the atomic bomb during World War II, Washington D. C. and New York City destroyed, a United States surrender to Hitler;

The crumbling of the United States economy and political structure under the relentless pressure of the Soviet Union – a Cold War defeat for the United States with total Soviet domination of Europe and the demotion of the United States to second- or third-world status.

From our vantage point none of these outcomes seems possible. But, in real time, during the events themselves, history seemed a lot more contingent and a lot less inevitable. As he signed his name to the Declaration of Independence, John Hancock knew that, if war came – as it almost certainly would – the colonists would face the massive power of a disciplined and highly trained British army; a colonial loss was certainly possible. In the long days and dark nights of the Civil War both Lincoln and Grant grappled with the possibility of Confederate victory and its implications for the Union. Werner Heisenberg, the head of the Nazi atomic energy project, was a brilliant physicist capable of producing an atomic bomb and had a significant head start on the Americans; the winner of the atomic arms race was uncertain. The Soviet Union was a “red menace” throughout my formative years and was considered a highly dangerous military and political threat. I still remember our homemade bomb shelter during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I used to sneak in and eat the emergency Vienna Sausages Dad had stored there. Thank God the Russians didn’t launch; we might have starved. Though much later the outcomes seem certain, at the time nothing is quite so clear. It may only be in hindsight that history seems inevitable.

Likewise, we generally treat the history of our faith as inevitable. Who can seriously entertain these alternatives?

Roman legal and military pressure eliminates the new cult of Jesus – followers are executed, churches are destroyed, and the false doctrine of the crucified Jewish messiah is eradicate from both Rome and the provinces

The Jerusalem Council sides with the hard-line Jewish Christians and instructs male Gentile converts to submit to circumcision and all Gentile converts to observe the Sabbath and the Mosaic dietary restrictions

Gnosticism or Docetism or Arianism or some other variant of Christian faith prevails and the Nicene-Constantinopolitan rule of faith never emerges as the symbol and definition of orthodox Christian doctrine

Of course the history of our faith is more secure than world history; we have Christ’s promise that the gates of Hades will not prevail against the church and we have the presence and power of the Holy Spirit to make good that promise. Even so, in real time, in the midst of crises and conflict, outcomes seem much less certain. Ask Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury. One hundred years from now the resolution of the apparent impasse between the Episcopal Church of the United States and the world-wide Anglican Communion will seem inevitable; right now, anything but. And so Rowan grapples and prays and worries about the church – as his writings and speeches reveal – all the while clinging to Jesus’s promise.

It was Peter, the author of our epistle text, to whom that promise was directly given.

13 Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ 14And they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ 15He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ 16Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ 17And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. 18And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. 19I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven’ (Mt 16:13-19).[1]

If anyone had reason to trust in the ultimate victory of the church, it was surely Peter. Even so, read his letters and you sense an undercurrent of anxiety for those resident aliens to whom he writes. Peter is worried about “his” churches, worried about the people of God for whom he’s responsible. Yes, the Church of Jesus Christ will triumph. But, will this church – this local body of believers – survive? That’s Peter’s question. The triumph of the universal Church is inevitable; the survival of the local church is much less certain.

Peter worries that his churches might buckle under persecution, so he writes much about bearing up under suffering, about submission to authority even if that authority is abusive. Suffering for righteousness – as Christ himself suffered – is a Christian grace, one amply rewarded by God. Peter worries that false teachers will infiltrate his churches – both from within and without – and dedicates his harshest and most urgent language toward this threat in his second letter. Hold to the tradition you have received, Peter urges the churches.

This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you; in them I am trying to arouse your sincere intention by reminding you 2that you should remember the words spoken in the past by the holy prophets, and the commandment of the Lord and Saviour spoken through your apostles (2 Pe 3:1-2).

Peter worries that his churches will be enticed to return to the pagan ways from which they escaped through the gospel. Scattered throughout pagan lands and alienated from family and friends by this strange new cult of Christ, the temptation must have been great to return to the former, comfortable things.

Peter worries that his churches just won’t grow up into the fullness of Christ, won’t mature in the faith, like crops that flower but produce no fruit, like runt animals that suckle and suckle the mother’s milk but never seem to grow.

Yes, the universal church – the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church of our Lord Jesus Christ – will triumph. But what about this local body of believers, this little church right here? Peter wants to know.

I want to know too, because I worry about the local church: the Episcopal Church across the street, the Catholic Cathedral almost next door, the Baptist Church within walking distance, the Presbyterian Church just down the road, and yes, mostly about Trinity Church.

I worry about persecution – not the presence of it, but the lack of it. I worry about the acceptability of the church and the lack of cost associated with being a Christian. Peter knew that walking the way of Christ in a pagan culture would generate animosity and produce hardship for the church. Is our culture really any less pagan than his? Why is being a Christian today in our part of the world apparently so easy, so respectable? Is our faith and practice so low level that it fails to distinguish us from our culture and fails to present a threatening alternative? I worry about the church.

I worry about false teaching. I worry that people think of Oprah as some great religious prophet. Oprah sings the praises of Eckhart Tolle and his “gospel” The New Earth becomes a spiritual phenomenon sweeping the country, when it’s nothing more than new age psychobabble and repackaged first and second century gnosticism rejected by a wiser and more discerning church two millennia ago. I worry that the majority of those reading the book and joining the discussion groups and fawning over this great new wisdom are Christians who should know better but who apparently have no depth of spiritual understanding and thus are easy prey for every new idea that comes down the pike. Paul envisioned such times and warned his protégé Timothy.

3For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, 4and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths (2 Tim 4:3-4).

I worry about the false teaching – not just from outside the church, but especially from within. I worry that Joel Osteen with his warmed-over rehash of Norman Vincent Peale’s positive thinking might become the new, public face of our faith and that his Christless, prosperity gospel of the “best you now” might pass for Christian orthodoxy. Have the thousands flocking to his church and reading his books thinking they are receiving the Gospel not been taught better, or have they just failed to learn? I worry about the church.

I worry about our girls, about the pressures they will face in the coming years. Some we know – after all, we were once young as they are now – but others we can’t even begin to imagine. It truly is a different world than we knew. Have we – the church – prepared them for the social, sexual, philosophical, and material challenges to their faith? How can we? I worry about our girls and about all young Christians. I worry about the church.

Yes, I worry, but I’m not incapacitated by worry, I’m not dominated by it, I’m not rendered hopeless by it. After all, and most of all, Christ is risen, we’ve been raised to new life in him, and new creation has begun.

3 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, 4and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, 5who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time (1 Pe 1:3-5).

So, in light of this great Easter hope, how do we handle the challenges to the local church and the worries that nag at us? We follow Peter: like him we keep bringing the church around again and again to Jesus and we keep remembering who we are in Jesus. The church will withstand persecution and perhaps even live in a way that prompts it if the church loves and desires Jesus and knows who it is in him. The church will reject false teaching and cling to the truth if the church loves and desires Jesus and knows who it is in him. The church will mature and grow into the fullness of Christ if the church loves and desires Jesus and knows who it is in him. The church will resist the temptations of this or any pagan culture if the church loves and desires Jesus and knows who it is in him.

Albert Einstein once said that, “Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler.” At the risk of oversimplifying then, a minister’s chief responsibility is to help those entrusted to his or her care come to love and desire Jesus with heart, soul, mind, and strength and to understand the great calling and new identify they have in him. I didn’t make this up; this is Peter.

2Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation— 3if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.
4 Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and 5like living stones, let yourselves be built* into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 6For it stands in scripture:‘See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious;and whoever believes in him* will not be put to shame.’ 7To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe,‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner’, 8and‘A stone that makes them stumble, and a rock that makes them fall.’They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do.
9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people,* in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light. 10Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people;
once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy (1 Pe 2:2-10).

My role here is simple, if not always easy. I am to hold Jesus before you as the most lovely, most desirable thing you have ever seen: as the pearl of great price, the treasure hidden in a field, the spring of living water in barren lands, the means of grace and the hope of glory, the light shining in the darkness, the dawn breaking over the land of the shadow of death, the answer to every question and the fulfillment of every dream and the satisfaction of every longing of your soul. I am to preach and teach and pray the beauty of Jesus until words fail and only the sacraments of worship – of bread broken and wine poured out and lives laid down in service – will do. I am to bring you around again and again to Jesus, so that you may taste and see that the Lord is good.

I’m not up to this task, but the Holy Spirit is, as Stephen learned.

55 But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. 56 “Look,” he said, “I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:55-56)!

The Holy Spirit opens the heavens up to us as we worship, revealing Jesus at the right hand of God. As the early church believed and as Frederica Mathewes-Green writes, when the body of Christ – when this little church – gathers to worship,

heaven will strike earth like lightning on this spot. The worshippers in this little building will be swept into a divine worship that proceeds eternally, grand with seraphim and incense and God enthroned “high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1). The foundations of that temple shake with the voice of angels calling “Holy” to each other, and we will be there, lifting fallible voices in the refrain, an outpost of eternity.[2]

In such moments as these we will taste and know that the Lord is good. And knowing our Lord Jesus, we will come to know ourselves in him.

9 [But] you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people,* in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light. 10Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people;
once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy (1 Pe 2:9-10).

You. This is who you are in Jesus. To whatever degree the grace of God is manifest in the life of the church, it will come from loving Jesus and from remembering who we are in him. Like each of you I’ve struggled with sin; I still do. I’ve struggled with the challenges the local church experiences; I still do. I’ve had many failures and a few victories. Those victories have never come from shame or fear or legalism – from people “should-ing on me” as Brennan Manning says. No. They’ve always come from loving Jesus – from a deep desire to honor the one who is so worthy of honor, the one who is so altogether lovely – and from a longing to live into the fullness of what I truly am in him: a member of the chosen race, the royal priesthood, the holy nation, God’s own people – a people who have received mercy.

If we love Jesus and know who we are in him, we will obey him and that obedience will mark us in the world as Christ’s own; blessings will come – and hardships. If we love Jesus and know who we are in him, we will seek out his true word and reject the wisdom of the world for the foolishness of God. If we love Jesus and know who we are in him, sex and money and power will lose their hold on us because they will no longer fit with our new identity as chosen, royal, holy people. This is the hope of the local church and the end to our fears.

Amen.
[1] Unless otherwise noted all scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright Ó1989, by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America.

[2] Frederica Mathewes-Green. At The Corner of East and Now.

Sermon: 4 Easter (13 April 2008)

4 Easter: 20 April 2008
(1 Peter 1:1 – 2:3)
A Walgreen’s Easter

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Alleluia!

(Note: This sermon is not based upon the Revised Common Lectionary texts for 4 Easter, but focuses instead on selections from 1 Peter 1-2, the epistle appointed for the Easter season.)

A few days after Easter – Tuesday or Wednesday of Easter week I think it was – I went to Walgreen’s[1] to get a few odds-and-ends or to fill a prescription. A sign on the door announced Easter 75% Off. Now there’s good news! Alleluia! Christ is risen and I can get discounted baskets and bunnies. The Lord is risen indeed and I can get cheap candy eggs and marshmallow Peeps. Alleluia! The Gospel of Christ meets the gospel of Walgreen’s, the Kingdom of God meets the kingdoms of the world, God meets Mammon – and all right there at the five-and-dime. Who would have figured?

Now, don’t get me wrong: I have nothing against chocolate bunnies or peanut-butter eggs, especially on sale. I’m not a Peeps fan myself, but I know people who are, so I guess that’s OK, too. But there’s something about Walgreen’s dismissive attitude toward Easter that bothers me. I understand their business model: Easter is over and they need to move its specialty merchandise. The only way to do that is to discount the products. Easter is over and it’s time for business as usual, or time to move on toward the next holiday. I get all that. But, we’re part of this strange group of people called Christians that don’t – or, please God, shouldn’t – see things like that at all. For us, Easter isn’t just a day; it’s too big for that. Liturgically it’s a season – 7 weeks of celebration. Even more than that, Easter is a life, a new way of being in God’s new creation – all our days, all our hours, all our lives, and unto the ages of ages. A single day for Easter? That’s not nearly enough.

We really can’t forget this without doing violence to the Easter event. To celebrate Easter for just one Sunday is to make it only about a historical event that happened on one day to one dead, Jewish rabbi, in one garden outside Jerusalem some two thousand years ago. Let’s remember. Let’s celebrate. Let’s have a sale. And let’s move on, get back to business as usual. That’s to put Easter on par with Independence Day or Veterans’ Day or Presidents’ Day. But, we’re part of this strange group of people called Christians that don’t – or, please God, shouldn’t – see things like that at all. Certainly, what happened to Jesus on that one day in Jerusalem is important; in fact, it’s far too important to confine its celebration to just one day.

Walgreen’s notwithstanding, we’re part of this strange group of people called Christians who really believe that there is no getting back to business as usual. A stranger once asked my grandfather for directions to some place or another. My grandfather thought for some time and then said, “You really can’t get there from here.” That’s exactly the way this strange group of people called Christians think about Easter. Stop us to ask, How do we get back to business as usual – you know, like it was before Easter? and we’ll say, You really can’t get there from here. We really believe that Easter was the climax of all history – not just of human history, but of creation’s history. We really believe that everything past points toward Easter and that everything present and future radiates outward from Easter. In geography we talk about the continental divide. It’s the mountain range in North America that separates watersheds: to the west all rivers flow toward the Pacific Ocean and to the east toward the Atlantic. In theology we could just as reasonably talk about the covenantal divide. It’s the Easter event that separates salvation history: before Easter everything flows toward law and sin and death, after Easter toward grace and holiness and life.

On Easter – and by this I mean the whole Easter event of death, burial, resurrection, and ascension – on Easter God invaded his fallen and rebellious creation decisively and once for all in the person of Jesus. The Lamb of God took away the sin of the world, bearing our sins in his body upon the cross – the righteous one dying for the unrighteous many. The Suffering Servant conquered death by giving himself up to it, by commending his spirit into the Father’s hands. The New Adam restored the cracked icons of God – made it possible for men and women to once again bear God’s image – and inaugurated a new creation by bursting the bonds of the tomb and emerging into a garden on the first day of re-creation. The King of kings assumed his sovereign reign by ascending to the right hand of his God and Father and by taking his rightful seat on the throne. And after all that we think we can return to business as usual?

Everything has changed as the result of Easter and there is no going back to the way things were before. That’s what Peter writes

to the exiles of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, who have been chosen and destined by God the Father and sanctified by the Spirit to be obedient to Jesus Christ and to be sprinkled with his blood (1 Pe 1:1).[2]

Easter – and especially the resurrection – is not just about what happened to Jesus, but about what happens to us because of what happened to Jesus. Cosmic change ripples outward from Easter and becomes a tidal wave sweeping us all up in a flood of new creation with the sound of the mighty waters of grace thundering praise to the God who chose us and sanctified us.

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 (1 Pe 1:3-5).

Because of Jesus’s resurrection, we too – those who have been sprinkled with his blood through baptism – have been given a new birth; we’ve been born again, born from above. Everyone born of flesh and blood is born into something, like it or nor: a family, a community, a culture, and perhaps even an inheritance. And all this is gift; there are no truly self-made men or women. Likewise, all those of us born anew, born of water and the Spirit, are born into something: a living hope and an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading. This, too, is all gift – all grace. I did nothing to earn it or merit it and neither did you. We were born into it, into hope and inheritance.

It’s easy to forget that and to lose hope. Read the newspaper. Watch the evening news. We’re headed into recession – we’re probably already there – and those nest eggs we’ve put our hopes in are dwindling as we watch helplessly, dwindling along with our hopes of early retirement or even financially secure late retirement. The war in Iraq drags on with no signs of resolution and those who put their hopes for quick, successful resolution in a new presidential administration will likely be disappointed – no matter which candidate is elected. Genocide continues in Darfur and oppression in Tibet. Our brothers and sisters in Christ are persecuted around the world while the “free” church squanders its time and opportunities debating homosexuality, biblical inerrancy, and the role of women in churches that are declining and becoming irrelevant to a culture that has simply moved on without us. It’s easy to lose hope. But that is to dismiss Easter, to put it on sale 75% off, and that won’t do. When Leslie Newbigin – missionary and scholar and prophet – was asked whether he was optimistic or pessimistic, he replied, “I am neither an optimist nor a pessimist; Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.” And that makes all the difference. Jesus Christ is risen from the dead and we have been born again to a living hope – a hope based not on wishful, optimistic thinking, but on the very power and purpose of God. God will restore all creation to himself – is presently restoring all creation to himself. And if we don’t see that, well, maybe it’s because we are trying to live as if Easter never happened, or because we are contenting ourselves with discount chocolate bunnies and stale Peeps. But Easter has happened – not just to Jesus, but to us and to all creation – and there is no going back to the way things were before.

Peter calls this Easter hope a living hope. It is so because it comes from God, the Creator of life, and from Jesus Christ, the author of new life. But it’s also a living hope precisely because it is a hope to be lived among those of us who call ourselves Christians and lived by us in the presence of the watching world. Peter moves seamlessly from living hope to hope lived.

Therefore prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves; set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed. Like obedient children, do not be conformed to the desires that you formerly had in ignorance. Instead, as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; for it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy” (1 Pe 1:13-16).

A living hope is a call to action, to discipline, to holiness, to a refusal to be squeezed into this world’s mold (Eugene Peterson). A hope lived is our response to that call, a response that recognizes that “the artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without the work.”[3]

Peter intends to drive this home to all us resident aliens dispersed throughout the world, so again he moves us through this Easter cycle of Christ’s resurrection, our new birth, living hope, and hope lived.

Through him [Christ] you have come to trust in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are set on God.

Now that you have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth so that you have genuine mutual love, love one another deeply from the heart. You have been born anew, not of perishable but of imperishable seed, through the living and enduring word of God. For

“All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord endures forever.”

That word is the good news that was announced to you.

Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation – if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good (1 Pe 1:21-2:3).

Peter was a braggart and a coward and a traitor. James and John were “sons of thunder” who wanted nothing more than to call down God’s curse and destruction on a Samaritan village. Paul was a radical, extremist Pharisee who endorsed violence and persecuted the church. All until Easter or their experience of it. Everything changed for them as the result of Easter and there was no going back to the way things were before, no going back to the way they were before. They were each born again into a living hope through the resurrection of Christ from the dead. The mark of their new birth, the sign of their change is still the mark of one who has witnessed the resurrection of Christ, is still the sign of one who has been born anew into a living hope through that resurrection: genuine mutual love, love that springs from deep within the heart, love that is itself a gift of God.

I’m not talking about mere sentiment or emotionalism – these are chocolate bunny and marshmallow Peep imitations of real, Easter love. I’m echoing Peter in talking about an Easter love which has put to death all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander. I’m echoing Paul in talking about an Easter love which is patient and kind and never envious, boastful, arrogant, or rude – an Easter love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Cor 13, selections). I’m talking about an Easter love that sacrifices and bleeds and dies for the beloved, in living hope that it will yet rise again on Easter morning. May God grant us to love each other like that, to love all those He loves – which is to say everyone – like that. Then the world will be unable to dismiss Easter, unable to get back to business as usual. Then Easter will never be put on sale because it will be priceless yet given away freely.

A couple of weeks ago, while Walgreen’s was still trying to put Easter behind them and get back to business as usual, my family drove about 600 miles to watch a perfectly normal young boy – intelligent, athletic, compassionate – walk down the steps into a swimming pool with both water and air temperature hovering around 50 degrees to be baptized into the risen Christ. How do you account for that? Well, something happened on one day to one dead, Jewish rabbi, in one garden outside Jerusalem some two thousand years ago and that something is still happening to us now because it happened to him then. Somebody loved this boy enough to tell him about it, to tell him about a living hope. Somebody – some community of ordinary somebodies called the church – loved this boy enough to live out that living hope before him. And this boy, through the grace and power of the Holy Spirit, became part of this strange group of people called Christians who have been born anew to a living hope through the resurrection of Christ from the dead. And now, for this boy, there’s no going back to business as usual. Thanks be to God!

Amen.

[1] A pharmacy and variety store chain.
[2] Unless otherwise noted all scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America.
[3] Emile Zola