GOOD Friday

There is an irony about how on Good Friday

            we read the longest Gospel lesson:

                        the entirety of John, chapters 18 and 19.

But we don’t have the time or opportunity 

to go into an in-depth Bible study 

on all the segments of these 2 chapters.

I think that this portion of the Gospel is not one we ordinarily dwell on

            because it is hard to be in such a space as the Crucifixion,

                        that is so full of suffering and heartache. 

But if we could see in John’s Gospel

            how Jesus is the One who is empowered, who is acting,

            we might change our minds, 

and we might find ourselves willing to dwell more and more 

on this portion of the Gospel,

            reading it with love and devotion,

                                    with joy and wonder and thanksgiving

                                    for its powerful message

                                                to encourage us 

                                                            and fulfill our hopes

                                    and give us deep gladness of heart.

In John’s Passion Account Jesus is the only one who is in control.

Everyone else exhibits that they have no control over what is going on, 

that there is great failure on their part 

to achieve what they want to do.

As we know from the other Passion accounts,

the disciples have no apparent control over their drowsiness;

                        they fail to stay awake.

And then they all run away, fleeing for their lives.

            Despite whatever his motivation and intentions were

Judas is doomed to become known as the betrayer.

The band that comes to arrest Jesus at Gethsemane

            are knocked to the ground by the force of the word 

spoken by Jesus, his simple statement: “I AM.”

Only when Jesus purposely gives them a second chance 

            can they lay hands on him and take him away.

Peter, in spite of his earlier protestations,

            fails in his ability to keep from denying his Lord.

The high priests and Sanhedrin 

can’t make a credible case against Jesus.

And they have to revert to political pressure 

to get Pilate to cooperate.

Pilate tries to set Jesus free, but fails.

And Mary, his mother, must stand by 

helplessly watching with the other women as he dies.

Everyone else is ineffective.

This is all a picture about us, 

our failure, 

our helplessness, 

our misguided attempts to take matters into our own hands, 

and how the results are not what we anticipated or wanted,

our lack of control in a situation we weren’t prepared for.

In some ways this all mirrors what we are living with at the moment.

None of us is able to do what it takes save our own selves, 

            let alone the world.

But it is Jesus who acts, who is in control, 

who accomplishes all that needed to be done, 

right down to the last detail described in the ancient texts 

about the Servant, the Lamb of God.

It is he who chooses when his last moment is, when he dies.

He completes all, 

and breathes out his breath 

and gives up his spirit.

Usually in each sermon there is an exhortation

            - that which we are urged to do in response to the Word of God.

But on Good Friday, today, I give none.

Today we sit and do nothing, no action.

We can’t.

It is impossible.

Nor need we do anything…

…despite our question carried down through 2,000 years of history:

            “What may we do that we may work the works of God?”

                        the question asked of Jesus in the 6^th chapter of John.

The answer he gave them is the same today:  believe, trust, surrender.

            Surrender to Jesus; trust into him.

Today it is Jesus alone who acts, who by dying accomplishes all.

It would be a denial of faith, of our basic trust in Jesus, 

to seek to add our own action to what he has done for us.

Even the faith we do have in him is a gift that he has given to us,

            breathing his breath/his Spirit into the disciples

                                                                                    and into us,

            breathing out his last breath

                                                to release that breath in us for life.

How interesting - the disciples,

            though they all ran away that night of the betrayal,

later they all stayed the course.

Tradition has it that each of them, except John,

            died a martyr's death, and often in horrible torture.

John suffered exile and imprisonment on a desolate island,

            a prolonged torture.

What made the difference for them,

            that turned them from deserters to martyrs?

After Christ's death and resurrection,

            they got it.

They got the message Jesus had been telling them all along.

One death does it all.

One death buys life for all.

One death brings healing and sanity and hope and new life,

            and everything worth giving up your own life for.

I pray that each of us will be able to really get it

            about this death, about this day.

It can be life changing

            if you let it.

Some Thoughts for Holy Week based on John 12:20-36

            Someone very wise once said to me, “When you say ‘I love you’ to another person, that indicates you care more about them than you do about yourself.”  When Jesus said, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground…” he was referring to himself, meaning his own self giving out of love for us. He obviously cared more about you and me than he did about himself. That’s obvious. The kicker is that he is expecting that of his followers also.

            Jesus said to his disciples, “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.  Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.  Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.”

This Gospel reading, we could say, is the Ultimate discipleship lesson.  Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth… (which is what the purpose of the seed is – to get planted) …unless it falls into the earth and dies… (Once planted that is the end of the seed’s existence; the identity of the seed as seed is over.  What comes next looks nothing like a seed.)  …unless it falls and dies, it remains alone… but if it dies, it bears much fruit. (The purpose of the seed is to bear fruit.)

            The death of the seed is a birth into a new and more abundant, fruitful, effective life.  There is a parallel drawn here between the seed and the disciple.  Our purpose as disciples, what it is that God wants from us, is that we bear much fruit, that our lives are fruitful in the qualities and characteristics of the Kingdom of Heaven, that our lives are lights to others,  bringing them also into that peaceable realm where all sorrow is washed away, where there is no fear, no plague, nothing that need separate us.  That is the fruit that we are made for and intended to produce – very pragmatic and utilitarian.

            

            In the midst of the pandemic today we pray for those who are fulfilling these words, who are dying to self in service to others, and even those who are literally giving their physical lives in service.  

             “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  ”These are hard words; they confront us, but we would do ourselves a great disfavor if we avoided looking at them,  as we often would like to do.  These words are too important spiritually to let them pass by unexamined.  What is the life that is to be hated, that is, the life to be renounced?  What is the life that we turn our backs on and walk away from?

            We can always say that it is that which we have linked our self-identity with, that which we have claimed ownership with regarding who we say we are.  It is how we answer the question, “Who am I?”  Now we may not see this, or realize this, but our self-definition for the most part is an illusion, a fantasy, a falsehood, unreality.

            But loss and grief and the swift and varied changes of the world can set things up for the stripping away illusion.  And today in the midst of global pandemic that question, “Who am I?” is even more significant.  Who am I now?  We are caused to sit up and look again at who we are.

            Sometimes it is pretty hard to see through our illusions.  There is, it would seem, a veil covering our eyes.  We are not able to remove that covering from our eyes by ourselves, however. That is the work of the Master, the Teacher, the One who was lifted up on the cross who draws all people to himself.

            Jesus said, “I will draw all to myself.”  And the word for draw in Greek is very significant.  It means to draw a sword, to un-sheath it.  The veil of illusion covering our eyes, the false self-identity we cling to, will be stripped away from us by the action of the cross.  We will be unsheathed from that.  What is left is our true identity in Christ.  And there is all our hope and strength to face the day in front of us, even to the point of willingness to become “a grain of wheat that falls into the ground.”

Messenger: STOP!

One of the latest memes going around has been:

            “Honestly, I hadn’t planned on giving up quite this much for Lent.”

It is always good to keep a sense of humor even in the darkest of times.

But here we are in the midst of a world wide crisis 

            that is threatening our lives,

                        shredding our economy

                                    and stressing the very fabric of society.

The world is in the grip of fear wondering what is going to happen next.

We are told to keep our distance from one another,

            self-quarantine, don’t gather in groups larger than ten,

and it’s all for good reason.

But the heartache!

            I talk by phone with a person in a skilled nursing care facility

                        whose family can only come to the door and wave,

                        who is separated from a newborn grandchild she longs to hold.

            I ache for those who are homeless,

                        who have no hand sanitizers, let alone access to a hot shower.

            I think of someone dear whose whole high tech department at work

            was laid off two months ago and who has been looking for work,

                        and who told me, “Nobody is even interviewing right now.”

By now we all are feeling the impact and know those who are suffering.

And as has been true in the past, so now

            this crisis will bring out the worst and the best in us.

A small virus, a tiny, small virus has stopped the whole world, 

                        stopped us in our tracks.

Part of my spiritual practice is to say thank you for whatever comes up for me,

            the good and the bad,

            because often the bad can be looked at from a different perspective

that can make it become an opportunity,

                        an opportunity for a new discovery, 

                        or a challenge to build character and faith,

                        or a moment for experiencing humility,

                        or the awakening of new compassion.

But what can we say thank you for with the Corona Virus?

Can we see this virus as a messenger?  

            A messenger, what is called an angel in the Bible.

            A messenger sent to us from the planet herself, Mother Earth.

Hear the message from the virus to humanity:

            STOP  --  This is no longer a request, but a mandate.

            Stop, stop and observe.

            Look all around you.  See.

            Stop all that keeps us from hearing our common heart beat,

                        and from seeing our intrinsic interconnection with one another,

                        and our interdependence with each other and the environment.

The virus is a balancing force for us right now.

Observe now that there are fewer planes in the air and cars on the road

            how the air is cleaner, how the carbon emissions are diminished.

Observe the dolphins in the canals of Venice.

For us to be healthy all of nature needs to be healthy.

Look at your fear.  See it.

            What is it telling you about your own health?

                        and how it  is interconnected with the health and healing 

                                                of all living beings on the planet.

This time when we are stopped in our tracks

            is the time to listen to the whole of creation.

Consider this, that all of humanity is dependent upon the whole environment,

            and that environment is our intensive care unit, 

            that the environment provides our life support.

Intensive Care Unit – ICU, I see you.

The Creator, the One who created all that is,

            who in the beginning said, “It is good, it is very, very good,”

the Creator sees us and all the earth, 

            and loves us and has compassion and offers us a way of healing.

Jesus sees a man blind from birth.

There is no blame, no pointing the finger at his parents’ sin or his own sin.

Jesus sets about creating functioning eyes for this person

            so that he can see, 

even when those around him that think they know it all

                                    are spiritually blind.

Mud and the moisture of saliva, 

            and the sending, “Go to the pool of Siloam and wash.”

The blind man, now seeing, tells his story 

            and keeps to his story, his witness, even at cost to himself,

                        because now he sees.

And now here we are as a diocese,

            seeing each other from afar through this artificial medium

                        that gives us a virtual fellowship.

And here we are as a diocese having not too long ago asserted that we are

                        “setting a table in the wilderness.”

What an opportunity we now have for setting that table!

Can you see it?  Now is the time when we can be a light in the darkness.

For one thing, many of us now have the time.

            We have the time unexpectedly 

                                    to be present with ourselves in the present moment.

            We have time to be with those of our family, 

                                                members of our own household,

                        to have communication with each other,

                                    which may be good or may be difficult.

            We have time to hear birds sing, watch trees bud out and grass grow.

And time to see ourselves, to look within, to see our fear.

What are we afraid of?  The ultimate fear is fear of death.

            And yet death is inevitable for all of us.            

            It has been said that death is the cause of all fears.

St. Francis of Assisi referred to Death as Sister, Sister Death,

            a companion with him reminding him of how all things are passing,

            how the body is made in such a way that it naturally wears out,

            how that aging process is a gift to get us ready 

                        to be able to let go of the physical body when the time comes,

                                    and to do so more easily and thankfully 

                        in trusting response to the Light of our life, Jesus,

            the One who provides the light we see by.

Think of it this way: Jesus even at this moment 

            is holding your hand, washed, sanitized or not, holding your hand.            

Trust that.

Jesus feels our suffering, our grief, our anxiety and our fear,

            Feels it even more than we do or than we are able to express.

This is the depth of his compassion for us.

Through our messenger, this tiny virus, 

            we are being brought into the immediate present

                                    so that we who have been blind can now see.

All our lives long people have been dying every day

            and we have paid little attention.

But today we are more keenly aware.

This crisis is the earth’s way to wake us up, to make us see.

And for us, who would identify as followers of Jesus,

            who speak of walking in the way of Love,

            who  say we are “setting a table in the wilderness,”

this is our opportunity to be a Christian witness in the world,

            to be lights,

            to be an offering to the world.

Many of you are already engaging in action.

I am so amazed and proud of this congregation here, 

                        the Church of the Nativity,

            not the biggest congregation in the diocese by far,

            and with our abundant share of gray heads,

organizing a telephone tree and email list and launching it immediately

            so that we can be in touch with each other;

parishioners immediately volunteering to make runs 

            to the pharmacy or grocery stores for those who should stay at home.

Those whose ministry is the food pantry 

and the Saturday evening community suppers 

            making sure we have ways to continue these services 

            for those who most dearly need them.

We are given the opportunity in a unique and challenging way,

            and we are rising to the challenge.

And we also need to continue faithfully in what we now rise to,

            since we do not know how long.

We are being challenged in our generosity, which now is critically important.

In some ways we are very much like those first Christians,

            forming themselves as a Church under challenging times,

                        figuring it out as we go along,

            still building the airplane while flying it.

And first of all, let us pray,

            using this gift of time to be on our knees                        

                        literally or figuratively, in body or spirit,

            on our knees, 

                        asking for ourselves and for others our daily bread,

                                                and light for the path,

                                                and second sight to see the way,

                                                                        to discover, to open, to discern,

            and to see with the eyes of the heart.

And with thanks to Canon Kristi Philip for this prayer by Samuel Wells,

let us pray:

God of healing and hope,

in Jesus you meet us in our places of pain and fear.

Look with mercy on those who have contracted the new virus,

on any who are vulnerable, and on all who feel in danger.

Through this time of global concern,

by your Holy Spirit bring out the best not the worst in us.

Make us more aware of our interdependence on each other,

and of the strength that comes from being one body in you.

Through Christ our wounded healer.  Amen.

Live Streamed Sermon

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ

            I wish we could be meeting together this morning

but we are in the midst of something entirely new for most of us:

                        restricting our own freedom of movement

                        for the sake of our neighbors nearby and far away.

Today it is a different world,

            but one in which the words, “Fear not,” are very much needed.

How many times does that phrase, “Fear not,” show up in the Bible?

How many times does that spirit messenger from God need to say, “Fear not?”

How many times did Jesus say to his disciples, “Fear not?”

Rather than fear, I see what is happening now as a challenge,

            especially to us as people of faith.

The challenge for us is like in any other sort of crisis that hits a community:

            a wildfire, an earthquake, a flood, a hurricane or tornado.

And often in the midst of crises 

                                    we see examples of people caring for each other.

Now, in this particular situation we are going to need to be more creative,

            because we will not be in physical proximity with each other as much.

I am feeling withdrawal symptoms 

            because although I am speaking to you through digital technology

            I am standing in a near empty room.

How can this be Sunday morning?

And yet it is.

And literally we are not alone.

I am not alone standing here.

You at home, even if no other person is around you, are not alone really.

In our shared prayers we are spiritually present with each other.

And there are a whole lot of other churches meeting at about the same time 

            doing it on line today

            joined in prayer, in a virtual fellowship of prayer, even if not physical,

joined with a common purpose:

                        to pray for those who are ill

                        to pray for the health care teams serving those who are ill

                        to pray for those in our communities whose health is vulnerable

                        to pray for those working on creating a vaccine.

We’re all in this together.

I think about the first lesson for today, the reading from Exodus.

Here is the whole congregation of the Israelites,

            rescued from slavery in Egypt

            passing through the Red Sea waters dry shod

but now were out in a desert wilderness.

I have hiked in that Sinai wilderness.

It is beautiful in its rugged terrain, steep in places, full of rocks and sand,

            but with precious little vegetation 

            and next to no water at all.

And yet the Children of Israel would wander 40 years through that wilderness

            surviving on manna and quail

            and, as in this case, drinking water from a rock.

Our Bedouin guide showed us how to get water from a rock by striking it.

            An interesting geological phenomenon.

But the point is, all those people out there in the wilderness 

            needed each other in order to survive.

One person alone was not going to last long.

But together and over the years 

            they were formed into a congregation that would shift 

                        from a slave mentality yearning for the cucumbers and leeks 

                                                            of Egyptian slave rations,

            to a faith community trusting in God’s providence day to day.

The lesson from Paul’s Epistle to the Romans echoes this discipleship process

            that strengthens us in faith.

Paul writes:

            “Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, 

            and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us,

because God’s love has been poured into our hearts            

                                                through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”

So who knows how long this quarantine situation will last?

            A couple of weeks, a couple of months, God willing not too long?

This will be a spiritual challenge for us 

                        as much as it will be a health challenge 

                                    and an economic challenge

                                    and a challenge to our patience.

So some more good news from the lessons for this morning.

Jesus offers the gift of living water, 

            water that is life giving in the ultimate meaning of what is life giving.

And the very first person he offers such a stupendous gift to

            is, as usual, someone other than those who might have expected it.

A woman, from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak,

                        with a dubious marital record.

How utterly wonderful and incredibly important it is 

            that all these Gospel stories of Jesus have him engaging 

                        with all sorts and conditions of humanity, 

            engaging with them in significantly non-judgmental ways,

                        seeing everyone as having worth,

            prodigal in this extravagant giving of water of life

Later in John’s Gospel, chapter 7:37-38, we read:

“On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, 

and let the one who believes in me drink.

As the scripture has said, 

‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’”

Where else in the Gospels do we hear about being thirsty?

The Beatitudes – Matthew 5

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, 

for they will be filled.”

             

When you are hungry,

you discover a greater appetite for your vittles 

when you then get to come to the table. 

When you are thirsty,

you find a greater appreciation for just a plain glass of water.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, 

for they will be filled.”

When you are aware of your own poverty of spirit,

            then the appetite is heightened;

            we develop a hunger and thirst for righteousness, 

for life giving relationship with, identity with 

the One who satisfies the thirst.

This is having a greater awareness 

of the reality of our relationship with our Lord,

            and of his great abundance that overflows our poverty of spirit.

Jesus said to the Samaritan woman, 

“Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 

but …

The water that I will give 

will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

And what we ourselves are filled with then overflows us, 

overflows from us to others, 

becomes rivers, as it says in chapter 7.

It is not just about getting ourselves satisfied – 

We live as the community of creation.

If we get blessed, others get blessed.

So I am hoping that we can see ourselves as blest 

            even right now in the midst of a unique crisis.

And that we can see ourselves as a means of blessings for others.

As I said earlier, we will need to be more creative in this 

            because of the constraints of how we are to quarantine ourselves.

Bishop Gretchen wrote this in her Friday letter:

            consider every handshake we don't make an opportunity for a phone call.             Every embrace we must avoid a chance for verbal expressions of love.             Every inch of physical distance a recognition of our need to be together.             Let us find ways to care for each other in the midst of distance.

We are already taking some first steps in doing just that as a faith community.

We are doing this right now.

And we have several places to go to online to connect in with 

                        the liturgies offered at cathedrals and churches of every size.

We have already been organizing a telephone tree for Nativity

            that will be a way to get communication out to every member

                        whether or not they have a computer or cell phone.

This will be a way for us to keep in touch with each other,

            to be there for each other when needs arise,

                        whether that be picking up something for them at the store,

                        or hearing their grief or loneliness and being with them in that.

And for me to be able to serve you as your priest at this time,

            I will need to rely on you to communicate with me 

                                    when pastoral needs arise that I should know about.

Separated by some physical distance, 

            yet united in the common purpose of attending to one another

                        during this quite crisis.

Maybe this can also be considered God offering us 

            another Lenten discipline to undertake,

            another way to walk the way of Love,

            another spiritual tool to prepare us for Easter.