An ashen cross.........

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday in the western Christian Church. It marks the beginning of a liturgical season known as Lent.

In churches large and small, ashes were being prepared as a part of an ancient ritual which marks this day.  Made from the burnt palms of Palm Sunday 2017 the ashes were being mixed with a little olive oil, perhaps a drop or two of dish washing liquid (it helps when it is time to wash them off).  Clergy of every shape and stripe were preparing to remind those who gathered that just as there was a first day of their life, there would be a last day as well.

"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

It only takes a year or two of making ashen crosses on the foreheads of octogenarians and toddlers alike to realize that someone you touch with ashes will not be with you when Ash Wednesday rolls around again next year.  One of the faithful - those who have wrapped themselves in the ritual of confession and ashes - will complete the cycle of trusting in this God and lay down for the last time. Some will be no surprise; some unexpected.  Of the many deep yet eternal truths that are a part of this liturgical moment, the frailty of our human life is one.

Seventeen families were forced to face this reality in Southern Florida yesterday.  The child they sent to school was not coming home, and the ashes were theirs.  May our prayers rise before you as incense O Lord.  Comfort the brokenhearted.  Heal the wounded.  Hold fast to these young people who now rest with you.

Then trace an ashen cross on the forehead of America.  Mark this day as the end of our blindness.  Remind everyone again.........you are dust, and even you will one day return to dust.

Rest eternal grant them O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon them.  

Thinking about funerals

It has been a year of funerals.  Some of them expected.  Some of them made it hard to swallow.

Today I did a graveside service for a family.  I had sat with them as their loved one slowly let go of this life and embraced the next.  It took a lot longer than any of us expected, but then you could always count on this person to say or do the unexpected.

It got me thinking about what I would want when I was the one lying in that bed, looking nothing like myself and certainly nothing like I would want to look.  I am thinking I'd like to hear my children tell stories and laugh; I'd like to hear some solid hymns (I'll be sure to leave a list) and a few pieces of classical music; prayers would be nice, especially the old liturgical ones.

But in the end, I think I would like to have someone reading scripture: the stories I have come to love which have opened the door to the transcendent God for me.  The story of Moses arguing with God; Jeremiah's complaint that the Word of God was a fire in his belly.  I'd like to hear again Mary's song of praise and trust in God from Luke and the story of the woman with the 12 year flow of blood who touched the hem of Jesus' garment.  Perhaps in the end I would like to hear again of how Mary anointed Jesus' feet and then Jesus turned around and washed the feet of the disciples.

Then finally, Mark 16.1-8  Early in the morning on the first day of the week the women went to buy spices.and then went to the tomb.  They said to one another "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?"  When they looked up, the stone had been rolled away and a young man said, "Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He has been raised; he is not here....."

When the moment comes when those who have loved me (for reasons I will never truly understand but for which I am deeply grateful) see that I am no longer there, I want them to know that those were the words that shaped my life and they are my legacy to them.

As for me, I will be with the risen Lord.

I hate being wrong

I'm not talking about getting Babe Ruth's lifetime batting average wrong. Who can remember all that detail?

I mean when I am caught being a jerk.  When I am devoid of compassion.  When I say stupid things.  When I have failed to show the love that lies within me.  When I am tight fisted; even more so when my heart is made of stone.

I hate it when it takes me only seconds to realize that I have done it again.  I have brought sadness and hurt into someone's life.  I have wounded another or bought into my own jealousy or envy. I have gleefully accepted the benefits of a system which unfairly cheats another - and claimed no responsibility. You want to know what I really hate it? I really hate it when someone else calls me on it.  I really hate being a public sinner.

I want to run from that awful feeling so I often compound the whole mess by trying to justify my actions, mitigate the impact of my words, pretend that I had the best intentions.  I have a closet full of excuses:  I was tired, I wasn't feeling well, the other person was nasty, they behaved badly, I owed them nothing.  They are, however, only excuses.

The reason I fall into this pit is singular.  I am afraid and fear makes us stupid (and blind and deaf too I think). It paralyzes us.  We can no longer think straight, and we certainly can't hear the voice of Jesus nor feel the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

Then it isolates us.  When fear is in control, we cannot form real community.  Community requires an enormous share of giving:  giving of ourselves but also giving others the space to live equally blessed lives.

Perhaps you have experienced this as well and recognize that dark, lonely place where you are afraid that this horrible moment of sin is all that you have to give in this world.  You will always be defined by it.  It will always control you.  You are no better than this ....this....person!

I think that son who ran off with half his father's money and then had to come home groveling for forgiveness and mercy felt much the same way.  Yet, much to his surprise, his father was there, waiting for him, rejoicing at his return, celebrating with all.  (Luke 15)

Jesus stands in the road watching and waiting for us to turn around, to leave our stupidity behind and trust in his mercy and love.  On those days when I am dead wrong, it is only the love of God that can call me to life.  Welcome home, brother, we've missed you.

How many times can you die?

This is not a rhetorical question.  How many times can you die?  Most of us get one.  One time to die. (Modern medicine has made some advances on this number, but nothing reliable.)

One time.  I've already had mine.  It happened about a month after I was born when my parents made the drive from Baltimore to Bath, PA to their home church for my baptism.  It was cold with snow on the day I died.  All my grandparents were there, along with an older brother and a couple of aunts and cousins.  I wore a white dress, the same one my brother wore.  My grandmother made it.

The pastor poured the water over my head and baptized me......into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  I died with Christ so to live with Christ on that day when God's glory is made manifest to the whole world.  St. Paul says I died to sin by which he meant that sin could no longer claim me as one of its own.  Now I belonged to Christ and the Holy Spirit was about to really get to work in my life.

It was the starting point for my second life.  Buried deep within the heart of God, I was (and continue to be) slowly shaped by the love of a creator God who gave me my first breath, forgave (and continues to forgive) all the numbskull and even nasty things I've done and thought, showed me the face of my neighbor and pressed me forward to create a community with them.  From this generous God I was taught generosity and challenged again and again when my heart proved to be two sizes too small.

That's why my parents took me to that baptismal font....to die to the deadly life that awaited me and to be formed into the life of the Creator.  It was the life they experienced; they wanted it for me. It meant putting aside the kind of life that I would see around me.  It meant listening for Jesus' voice since the voices around me were deafening.  It meant pruning those places in me that hampered my growth into God's vision of a beloved child.

Now those of you who are reading this know that I am far from perfect; most days I'm far from medium.  But on all days I belong to Jesus and Jesus shapes and molds me into the new life of glory that awaits me. Along the way confession is my constant companion and forgiveness my salvation.

All sound a little radical to you?  A little 'over the top'?  A little like those crazy disciples tramping behind Jesus in all those stories?

It is.  It was meant to be.  Life as a disciple is more questions than answers.  It is constantly being aware of the great needs of our neighbors knowing that solutions we offer are temporary.  It is to expect that we will stumble regularly, and sometimes quite badly, and yet we call on the name of the Lord and wait and watch for his guidance.  We accept the weight of our own sin and bask in the wonder of God's gracious forgiveness.  We live the resurrection in each day - some days we are better at it than others.  We are Christ's and we live in him....

...and it is joy.

All of this is to say, there is nothing for you to fear.  You have already died.
You belong to Christ.

Today consider simply allowing Jesus to live in and through you.  Wait. Watch. Listen.
Quiet the voices that do not know Jesus and do not know the power of his love.
Begin to truly live  the life you were given long ago in those waters of baptism.  You...beloved child of God, disciple of the living Lord.

so, to re-cap: love one another

The love that called Jesus out of the grip of death and into life, out of the back of the tomb, out of the darkness into eternal light.......

that is the same love that God expressed when God created all that exists.  It is a love so powerful that its expression is life, its goal is life, its being is life.  The same love that broke the bonds of this earth will break those bonds again when it calls each and everyone one created by God out of the tomb of fear and into the new life which is life in God.

 Jesus was certain God's love was sufficient to call him out of the tomb and into resurrection.  Jesus was certain it could and it would.  Jesus' presence among us is to remind us and to make us certain it can and it will.  This is resurrection love: it is powerful and it is life giving.

That isn't to say that it is easy.  Loving another into resurrection is demanding work.

It's not just that the tomb is dark and deep, but we cling to its walls, refusing to let go of the very things that hold us captive.  We see the light and dismiss it as a figment of someone's imagination, a false hope, a dead end.....without ever seeing the irony of our own image of 'dead end.'

We wrestle with the gift of life.  In order to pick up the life offered by God we must put down the weight of all that burdens us, wounds us, wounds others, drains the goodness out of us and leaves us without the energy to claim the life that is offered.

We argue with the gift of life.  When we look around us we can see no sensible order; seems some folks are way ahead on the 'light of life' game.  We get angry when the wounds of others crash into us and we are wounded as well.  We get so angry we pickup our weapon of choice: jealousy or revenge or even building higher walls so we can 'protect' ourselves....when in fact we are locking ourselves away.We reject the gift of life because it is offered to folks we think are unworthy with words like immoral.  We slap at the hands of those who offer to lead us into the light.

Jesus is God's concrete call to all of creation to come out of the tomb and live in the light.  "Follow me," Jesus said as he offers to lead us to a better place, an eternal place.

Oh yes, and bring your friends.  Tell them the story.  Tell them your story.  Invite them to walk with you on this journey called faith - not a journey into darkness but a journey into revealing light.  Work with them, walk with them, hold fast to them, cajole them when necessary.  Bring food for the journey and good hiking shoes because this is a stoney path.

Along the way you will begin to experience the very resurrection you seek.  You will slough off that which kills and strive towards the love that Jesus incarnated.  You will become love yourself and be the guide for others to Jesus' side.

That's what we're talking about.  Resurrection love.  Manifest in Jesus.  Given to you.  For you to share with others.  It's so powerful that death will flee and only God will remain.

Like I said at the beginning, we're not talking about fairy dust and unicorns here.  We're talking resurrection.

"Love one another.  As I have loved you, love one another."

What kind of love is this?

Having washed the feet of his betrayer, Jesus plunges into the depths of love.

What kind of love?

Creating love: the kind that was present when this creation was called into being by the Divine Power.  The kind of love that is manifest when life is called into being, when light enters the void.  It is the foundation of this world and the foundation of the eternal Divine Kingdom.  It is love that works from the bottom up.

It is hard work.

This love is such a powerful force that it can enter the darkness of the tomb, surrounded by the odor of death, and step out risen and alive.  Yes, we think of the tomb that held Jesus but there are thousands of other tombs: tombs of the living who die a little each and every day because they stand in the presence of death and cannot recognize the life giving power of love that beckons to them.


The back of the tomb is God territory: where the most deadly things happen and yet, in God, are never the last word on anything.  There in the back of tomb where humans are convinced that the power of evil has prevailed is the power of God's love - bringing life - bringing light - making a new day.

So we cannot fool ourselves:  loving another into resurrection is backbreaking work.  But it is not our backs that it breaks, but rather, it breaks the back of racial prejudice and superiority.  It breaks the back of poverty and oppression.  It breaks the back of all the categories we use to separate and (de)value one another: categories like sexuality, age, gender, nationality, religion, criminal record.

This powerful resurrection love breaks our fear, which is the tomb that holds us all.  We fear being found out to be frauds, to be unholy, unworthy.  We fear that the ugliness of jealousy and lust and greed will become visible to everyone and in the end no one loves us and there is no way out of this tomb of fear.

Yet Jesus stepped willingly into the tomb.....in absolute certainty that God is God, and God could and would continue to love him....right back into life again.

Loving another into resurrection is back breaking work.  It will kill you.  It will bring you into life again - a life that cannot be taken away.

That's the love that Jesus is talking about.  Love one another.  Just as I have loved you, love one another.

A lifetime of work to bring about a time of life.

and if that wasn't enough...

One of the challenges of the Resurrection Story is the task of living out a new way of being.  How do we take the information of the resurrection and allow it to shift to an actual life of resurrection we can live today?  How does/can the Resurrection of Jesus transform our lives on Monday morning?

Although all of us need the deep assurance and comfort of God's abiding love through Jesus - an image so perfectly depicted in the 23rd psalm, in this fourth Sunday of Easter, we still need to wrap our heads around the impact of God's amazing resurrection of the Son, Jesus.  We need a picture to help us understand the power of the phrase 'I am doing a new thing' and the concept of 'bringing life out of the heart of death'.

A perfect image for this is the story of the raising of Lazarus, good friend to Jesus.  In fact, the Lazarus story bookends the assigned text for Good Shepherd Sunday, appearing in chapter 11 of the gospel of John.

Who is not moved when Jesus weeps outside the closed tomb of his friend?  We have done this, no?  We have had to say final goodbyes to people we love deeply and whose very existence we will miss.  We have had to confront the possibility of living out our lives without this beloved person.  For those of us who are widowed, we have had to figure out who we are now that we are not one half of a couple.  We have to learn how to be single again, but in a new way.

Lazarus gives us all this.  "Lazarus, come out!" Jesus cries.  Humans have rolled the stone away from the front of Lazarus' tomb, but Lazarus himself must respond to the command of the Son of God, the command to walk from death to life, the command to live yet again. He must hear the Lord's voice and follow.

Deep in the damp darkness of death, Lazarus hears the Savior's call and steps from beyond the veil back into the bright sunlight of his old life.  Yet, it will never truly be life as he once knew it, for he has tasted death and come again into the world of the living.  Lazarus has stepped out.

Jesus then commands, "Unbind him, and set him free".  Of course Jesus is talking about the burial cloths that are wrapped around the corpse, the bindings of this world which will forever keep him among the dead and restrict his ability to walk and live and move and jump in this new /old life of his.

"Unbind him and set him free!"  Leave behind all that is death to you - shuck it off and step out into a new life, a new being, a new power, a new relationship with this God who has given you life yet again.  Whether it is addiction or anger or deep wounds or resentment or any other prison of death that holds you captive, step out of your tomb and throw off all that binds you to death.  Live.

Now Lazarus is not a resurrection story in that Lazarus is resuscitated rather than resurrected.  Lazarus will, in fact, die again another day.

But we get it, don't we?  We understand that image of being closed in a tomb from which we see no escape.  We long for a time when all that binds us is pulled away and we can live a life we could never have imagined before.  Lazarus teaches us the possibility of living a transformed life as a transformed person.

Between the healing of the man born blind and the calling out of the dead Lazarus, we get the good shepherd.  Perhaps after these two extra stories of resurrection we are now ready to figure out who it is who is calling us out, what life with him will look like and whether, in the end, we can trust him at all.

from Alleluia to fear in an Upper Room....

It happens every year (or at least every year that follows the Revised Common Lectionary) - we leap from Alleluia to fear and hiding.  In one week.  In truth, the events happened much more quickly but we only gather for regular worship once a week so we need to wait 7 days to discover the disciples hiding out in the Upper Room.  With. The. Door. Locked.

One week.  But then we are much more skilled at fear than at Alleluia, and besides, we have had 2000 years to digest this outrageous news about a risen Jesus and we don't quite understand what it all means so I can give those disciples a break.  Fear is a more familiar companion to this lifetime than resurrection will ever be.

Fear is learned at our mother's knee; it is a critical lesson we must all master or be crushed by the powers that prowl the night.  Most days it wears the masks of respect or caution or good sense, but the ultimate message is this: great harm can come to us.  Physical harm. Emotional harm.  Spiritual harm.  We better beware.  In the end, it is all fear.

Fear that the fragile light of life that is us will be snuffed by other forces is the foundation for so many of our actions.  Exercise, diet, work habits, diligence at school, wearing our seat belt, smoke detectors, background checks, sunscreen, savings accounts.  On our very best days, we take all these threats to our continued life as necessary nuisances and we light birthday candles and build sand castles and play soccer and do crossword puzzles and simply get on with living.  On our worst days, our fear drives our interactions with friend and foe alike so we end up contributing to the deadly atmosphere around us.

So let us not look sideways at those disciples huddled in that upper room With.The.Door.Locked.  The door won't keep the fear at bay, but it gave them all a sense of false hope.  No one was going to sneak up on them; they would decide who got into that tiny hidey hole.

Yet, they couldn't and didn't and thanks be to God.  Jesus just simply appeared in their midst ignoring the locked door, ignoring their embarrassing silence just a few days ago.  There he was, standing in the midst of them, alive, forgiving, handing out gifts of peace to all.

It was the disciples, and not Jesus who carried a lingering odor of death, drenched in the sweat of fear.  Their racing hearts  warned them that death was at the door, seeking out an opportunity to crush the life right out of them.  In the middle of that scenario (our scenarios would feature courtrooms and ERs and dark alleys and sleepless nights) Jesus stands - life in the midst of death....inviting all who were present, and all who are reading their story....to leave death behind and embrace the life that is life, the life that comes through Jesus.

With the story of Thomas, we learn that Easter isn't just about Jesus.  Jesus was the first; now he invites everyone else to follow.  Sure the Romans were still at the door and they were pretty scary fellows.  But then, look at that empty tomb.  Look at my hands and touch my side.  The Romans aren't in charge.

Welcome to the resurrection.

Wrenched away.......Good Friday

I remember the day he died.  I was sure the earth had stopped spinning and yet it tilted under my feet.  The sun no longer gave warmth.  I had to remind myself to inhale for breath no longer came unbidden.

In those moments, hours, even days following, my life seemed a journey to the center of the earth, where chaos rules and the order of this world is unknown.  Someone had taken all that I knew and ripped in in two, from top to bottom and a new reality came flooding in.   Nothing had changed - horns honked and children laughed and groceries needed to be bought - and yet everything had changed.  Fear and dread would startle me awake in the wee hours of the morning.  I wanted to find a place to hide away, to curl into myself, to learn how to breathe again, to figure out how this could have happened.

The world shifted in an emergency room in a strange town.... 

       and on a cross on a hill called Golgotha. 

         Death for the sake of a new creation.  

It's all theory until you stand at death's door.............

How many times have you heard that faith is a journey?  Well, we've journeyed through the gospel of John this Lent and watched as faith morphs from early possibilities to astonishing miracles.  

                Nicodemus came in the middle of the night because he had some questions.  

                Jesus travels into enemy territory to invite a Samaritan woman to taste living water and

                                    she starts proclaiming the good news.

                A man blind from birth has the most incredible gift imaginable dropped into his lap and

                                    knows he has encountered God.

We too have journeyed in our faith life from times of questioning, to taking a risk speaking with a stranger about Christ, to recognizing the astounding gifts that God has given to us in this life.  Thought of this way, we can see faith unfold and this faith will take you quite a distance.  Right up to the door of the tomb as a matter of fact.  Because it all changes at the threshold of death.  

Once you cross the threshold of death everything changes.  The one who has died moves into a world we do not understand.  We don't know what it looks like nor what it feels like and that frightens us in many ways.  Those who are left behind come to experience the extreme alone - ness of death; now they truly understand that we come into this world alone, and alone we will leave it.  

Martha and Mary struggle, they question, they grieve.  Their neighbors grieve with them.  Even Jesus weeps before the starkness of death.  So we learn that even when we walk with Jesus we cannot leap over death, we cannot ignore the reality of it all. We all stand before the door of death.

For years we have been able to share the good news of God's love for everyone and all of creation.  For years it has been so easy to talk about God's great invitation to all to have a seat at the table, to become one of the insiders.  For years we have depended on the gift of forgiveness, that mending of the broken places and healing of the wounded soul. 

Right up to that stone door, we have reflected the compassion of God in our lives by feeding the poor and clothing the naked.  We have shared our abundance with others and told anyone who would listen that God has changed our life and filled it with Spirit.  Right up to that stone door.

Where theory is no longer enough, and the question becomes DO YOU BELIEVE?

We watch as Lazarus exits his own tomb.  Why?  Why when Lazarus was going to die again?  Why when he was already in the hands of a merciful God?  Was it to give comfort and assurance to those left behind?

No, Lazarus was not raised so we could be assured that heaven was real

Lazarus was raised so we would know that Jesus is real.   

That's the faith that sustains us until the resurrection.  Amen.

What do we say about the cross?

Every Lent we move inexorably from ashes to cross and the question arises again.  What can we say about the cross?  How could the suffering of the 'good', our Lord Jesus, in any way be a part of the redemption of the 'broken' (you and me)?

For Christians the cross is everywhere.  It is held up as a sign of God's commitment born out of love for all of creation....'for God so loved the world that God gave the only begotten son, that whoever believes in him shall not die but have eternal life....'  We even wear it as jewelry!

The truth is, the cross is an instrument of cruel, inhumane suffering and death.  It is a symbol of everything we wish to avoid in this lifetime.  To look on the face of the suffering Jesus, even if only in your imagination, and see the love of God takes a spiritual clarity that frequently slips away from me.

St. Paul writes in his letter to the Corinthians “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles….” Foolishness.  A stumbling block.  

Oh, St. Paul.  Let's not put too fine a line on it.  The cross scares the pants off me.  At the same time, any effort to diminish the cruel reality of the cross, in my mind, serves only to dim the bright light on my brokenness and the cruelty of the world we live in. It keeps me from being truthful about myself.

To leap frog over Good Friday to Easter morning is to pretend that the pain and suffering of this world can somehow be avoided.  More than that.  It implies that Easter is a reward for those who 'live right' or 'live a good life' as if Jesus didn't do exactly those things!

And here is my final confession.  Confronting the cross on Good Friday, I know....KNOW....that I am so far beyond the pale of 'good' that I am sure God is exhausted from searching for me.  I do not understand.  I can interpret.  I can explain.  But I will never understand how the cross of Christ could cover me.

But in the midnight of my soul, it is to the cross I cling.  Perhaps I believe that something which makes absolutely no sense at all has to be the work of God.  The same God who brings us an empty tomb........

....when I am good enough

Oh wow!  That's too true for words.  The kingdom of God will be ours when we are good enough.  How we hold onto this.....as if our lives depended on it.

Now, I'm a Lutheran and we pride ourselves (which might be a problem in itself) on preaching grace.  It is by grace you have been saved, not by your own works.  Jesus as the Son of God is God's gift to all of creation for the sake of creation.  Jesus' death points to the death dealing commitments of the current creation and his resurrection is the last word on who is in charge.  Life will be the last word, not because any of us deserve this wondrous gift of life with God but because God wants it to be that way for us.

See, I get it.

Until I don't.  Until the average attendance at church declines and I think I must solve this problem.  Until I avoid speaking with someone because I behaved badly the last time and I am embarrassed to face up to that truth.  Until I look in a mirror and rain down criticism on myself for not being perfect.  Until....I breathe my next breath.

We are strivers for sure....and that's not a criticism.  It is what works in this world most of the time.  It keeps us moving forward and working at improving ourselves and things around us.  Until...it becomes the source of our pride and our energy is expended in self-congratulations instead of building community.  Until we turn towards God and say, "Don't worry.  I've got this.  I can do this.  I'm good."  Then down the rabbit hole we slide again.

God created this world out of God's desire for this world.  It was God's gift to humankind.
God sent Jesus into this world out of God's desire for this world.  He was God's gift to humankind.
God is present among us as the Spirit because of God's desire for this world.  The Spirit is God's gift to humankind.

God invites us to live in the light and life of divine glory because that is God's desire for this world.  It is God's gift to humankind.  Gift.  Absolute gift.  To everyone.  You.  Me.

It is a radical gift that will bring about radical change.  You are already good enough.  God says so in Jesus Christ.  Some days that alone is too much for us to bear.