What I learned today - Preaching My Way to Faith: April 2022

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Sermon - Belief, Not Understanding… Easter Sunday (C)

Easter Sunday – Year C April 17, 2022

Luke 24:1-12, 1 Corinthians 15:19-26 Panzer Liturgical Service

If you asked most people what their favorite holiday is, most would say Christmas. I’m sure everyone has a favorite childhood Christmas memory, and some as adults, too. Especially here in Germany, the Advent and Christmas seasons are as wonderful and over-the-top as you would ever want them to be, filled with beauty and joy, and celebrated with friends and family in wonderful ways.

Meteora, Greece
(c) Deb Luther Teagan

But for the Christian church, the most important holiday is Easter. We have all heard the story – Jesus was welcomed into Jerusalem as a conquering hero, only to be arrested, placed on trial, and executed within the week. For three days, his followers believed that all was lost. But then the story turned.

Luke 24:1-12 (paraphrased) As the women of his group went to the tomb to prepare his body for its final rest, they were astonished and frightened to find that his body was nowhere to be found. Instead, the stone was rolled away and the cloths in which his body had been quickly wrapped on Friday were laying in a pile. Men in dazzling attire asked the ultimate rhetorical question: “Why are you looking for the living among the dead? He is not here – because he promised that he wouldn’t be.” And when the women went to tell the disciples the news, they didn’t believe them. Instead, Peter and probably others ran back to the tomb to see for themselves the new truth… “He is not here – he is risen.”

I can’t even tell you how many people have told me that the resurrection is the hardest part of the Jesus story. Since the mid-17th century, we have become a world where seeing is believing. Today we often hear that science and religion conflict with one another. But the father of modern science, Galileo Galilei, even though he was knocked down again and again by the Church, never lost faith in God and Jesus Christ.

So if you are wondering how to reconcile your understanding of Jesus’ story with a world of scientific discovery, I ask you to consider hearing the story this way. The resurrection of Jesus is a miracle that is impossible to understand. We don’t know how it happened. But the real question is not about how, but why Jesus was raised from the dead. And to find an answer to that question, we have to look at the whole story.

The bible is filled with amazing stories – sometimes like a crazy soap opera. Even so, it’s easy to think of the bible as a rule book or etiquette guide. But it’s so much more than just that. It’s the story of God interacting with his creations for generations. And in this story, God tries everything he can think of to help us live in harmony with him and one another.

He creates this amazing garden – with everything that humanity would need to live a perfect life. But God also created us with personalities and the ability to make choices and decisions for ourselves. It was a risk, but without choice, he understood that what we have with him is not really a relationship.

And so when the first couple made bad choices, there were consequences. God was true to his word. But he also did not cut them off. He continued to be present with them, calling prophets to warn people and share the good news of who God is. But eventually, the old story played itself out. And a new story – a new prophet… a new savior – came into the picture. God turned the page and made a personal appeal to the people he created… and Jesus said, “Come and follow me.”

The world that Jesus was born into was not a model society. The Jews had been returned to the promised land from exile and slavery, but they were not in control. The Greeks and then the Romans were in charge. The Jewish leaders were given some authority to keep the religious sects in hand. We saw in the events of Holy Week that these leaders were dedicated to keeping their own status high by crushing small rebellions that popped up. Messiahs were a dime a dozen in their eyes. But Jesus was different, in more ways than one.

The resurrection, and therefore our celebration of Easter, is a pivotal moment in God’s history. Every Sunday we profess the belief that death does not have the last word over life. Two passages help us to cling to the resurrection story and believe in it even when we don’t understand it. The first has to do with faith. The writer of Hebrews 11 says, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen… By faith, we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. (v1,3)” That means that we have to be willing to know something with our hearts and faith, even if we can’t fully understand it.

In some ways, sermons on Easter are hard. They are theologically and philosophically oriented. Today’s epistle lesson is remarkably concrete. The people who followed Jesus were awed by the things he did… healing, feeding, and loving people, no matter who they were. But here Paul is telling us that Jesus wasn’t just important in the flesh… if that’s all we focus on we are missing the point. And he isn’t just important to us while we are in our flesh. Jesus’ resurrection, while unexplainable, changes everything for us. And Paul makes this point by connecting Adam and Jesus to us. He says - Just as Adam’s humanness makes us human, Jesus’ rising from the grave gives us the gift of new life, eternal life in him. And even more so, Jesus’ resurrection doesn’t just destroy the power of rulers and authorities over him but also flips on its head the concept that death will always have the last word.

At the beginning of this letter, Paul is quick to point out how hard it is to wrap our brains around this. He explains, "For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God… For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:18, 22-25)

It is not just that the resurrection doesn’t make sense, but also that Jesus, who is God, would die a horrific and shameful death. In the end, faith is about believing in the wisdom of God, which might not make sense to the world, and trusting that God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Easter is the best reminder that death does not have the final say – and that while we don’t know what this gift of eternal life will look like, it is a promise that we can count on. When we are young Christians, we can start out thinking that Easter and resurrection are an insurance policy… protection from struggles and hardships. We worry about following the rules, but eventually, we can’t keep up. When that realization comes, we can either give up or get a new outlook on what a life of faith should look like.

It’s a good day when we realize – and internalize – the understanding that Christ did not intend for our lives to be grounded in fear. Instead, he instructs us to live as reflections of his love and grace in the world. This happens day by day, minute by minute, one act of love at a time. It means choosing Christ daily and recommitting our lives, over and over, with the knowledge he always chooses each of us.

Many of us were brought to the water and baptized before we knew who Jesus was. That was the start of our Christian lives. Many of us went through Confirmation classes and reaffirmed our baptismal vows before our family and friends. But in reality, we renew those vows a remarkable number of times in our lives. Every time we attend someone else’s baptism or confirmation, we are asked to reaffirm our vows. When we come to the Eucharist each week, we answer the call of Christ when we affirm that we love God and seek to live in peace with one another, offering a prayer of confession and absolving one another from sin. We gather at a common table where everyone is equal. And we go into the world to serve God and one another in peace.

We come to worship in relative calm, but some people worship Jesus knowing that it is dangerous, putting their lives in jeopardy. If we think back to that first Easter morning, the women went in great fear because of all that happened the week before. But their love for Jesus was greater than their fear. And so they went.

It is always my hope that people will hear the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection and see a place for themselves in his story. The journey of faith starts with one step…and continues with another and another, until one day, we are living a life we never imagined. At its core, this means living a life defined by love. Perhaps Mother Theresa has said it in a way that all of us can understand: “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do all things with great love.”

Let this be the prayer of our hearts. Let this be our Easter story. Let this be our everything.

Peace, Deb

See Holly Hearon, “Commentary on 1 Corinthians 15:19-26,” April 17, 2022, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/resurrection-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-1519-26-5

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Sermon - It was more than just a meal (Maundy Thursday - C)

Sermon – Maundy Thursday (C) April 14, 2022 Panzer Liturgical Service
Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14 • 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 • John 13:1-17, 31b-35

We call this day Maundy Thursday. It’s a unique descriptor for the Holy Thursday, taken from the Latin word mandatum, which means mandate or commandment. Paul uses this theme in tonight’s epistle reading – “Do this in the remembrance of me.” The synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark, & Luke, give us the historical account and the rubrics for this last supper – the one we reenact each week in the Eucharist. But the gospel of John fills in all the blanks. John’s account of the evening, found in chapters 13-17, gives us a significant look at Jesus’ theology… his understanding of who he is and who we are when we follow him. Yes, Jesus at the last supper gives us a mandate, but it’s not just to share this holy meal often.

Tonight, we see Jesus once again acting against stereotypes. We talked last Sunday about how Jesus is a different kind of King. Instead of riding into Jerusalem on a powerful horse, he comes in on a humble colt or donkey, transportation for the poor. And when they arrive at the room for a simple supper, he again acted in an unexpected way.

In the normal order of things, Kings don’t wait on people. So, when Jesus takes off his outer garments and makes things ready to wash the feet of his disciples, they were shocked, so much that Peter confronts Jesus about his actions:

Peter: Lord, you’re not going to wash my feet…
Jesus: Peter, I have to wash your feet.
Peter: Well, then, wash my head and my hands also
Jesus: Just your feet, Peter… pay attention, this is not just about being clean.

It was common practice for guests to have their feet washed up entry into a person’s home. Most travelers wore sandals and the roads were dusty and dirty. Cleaning feet was a way of keeping the home clean, but also an act of hospitality for the traveler, to make their visit more comfortable. But usually, it was the servants who performed this duty, not the host himself. And so, for Jesus to put himself into that lesser role would have been an extremely dramatic and uncomfortable thing to witness. And afterward, he commanded them to continue the practice of serving one another, and not to wait on someone else to serve them.

We don’t often wash one another’s feet these days… in most mainline traditions, this Maundy Thursday service is the only time that this part of Jesus’ story is reenacted. Touching another person’s feet feels very intimate. It makes both people feel very vulnerable. And as with many of the things that Jesus asks of us, when we are open to that vulnerability, we are open to the Christian life in ways we might not have imagined before.

More than anything, Jesus’ actions tonight teach us important lessons that should inform the way we relate to other people and live out our faith every day.

1^st lesson – Hospitality is an important manifestation of our faith. Jesus not only calls us to welcome people into our lives but also to meet the needs that they have. One of the things that I love about having German friends is the way that hospitality is lived out in many routine encounters. When we get together with our German neighbors or friends from our village band, certain rituals are always followed. First, you shake hands or hug every person who enters the group. You eat whatever food or drink they offer you. And when you leave, you don’t just say goodbye to the host and guest of honor, but to everyone you have had a conversation with during this encounter. “Danke für die Einladung – thank you for the invitation” and “Bis bald! – see you soon.”

When we first encountered these rituals, it felt very personal… very intimate… and very foreign. But I learned a lot about hospitality through these encounters. And what a glad burden it is to be in relationship with other people.

2^nd lesson – This encounter teaches us that no job of service is too lowly for any of us. We applaud people like Mother Theresa who served in the worst slums of India and think of that as a special calling reserved only for those who are the holiest believers. I’m certainly no Mother Theresa because I must confess that sometimes I feel like God has called me to ministry that doesn’t take my strengths into account. There’s a lesson to be learned for just that reason.

I’m not a builder, but I spent 12 summers carting around youth and building materials to work on mission houses in rural South Carolina… that’s why I still drive a truck today. In Spokane, I volunteered at the transitional homeless shelter, a place for families to sleep safely as they worked with agencies to find permanent housing, jobs, and training. It didn’t take an MDiv to change beds, cook breakfast, play Candyland, and clean showers, but it sure did give me a better understanding of my own privilege and how much I have to share to meet the needs of others. And it reminded me that ministry isn’t just about teaching theology or biblical study. Ministry is also about meeting people’s needs so that they are ready to tackle their discipleship journeys in whatever ways they can.

3^rd lesson - By ritualizing this story and making it a focus of our worship tonight, we are living out the biblical story. This story helps us develop muscle memory. It’s how we can ride a bike or drive a stick shift, even if we haven’t done it in years. It’s how we get to the bathroom in the middle of the night without having to turn on the light. Worship often includes the kind of role-playing that helps us relate to the bible story. We celebrate the Eucharist, not just because Jesus commanded us to, but to remember that Christ is with us in the bread and wine. Here, we share a common meal where everyone sits in equal seats. Afterward. we leave the table to live and serve in the world.

Washing feet is a tangible reminder that we, too, are called to be a different kind of people, ones who gladly receive and serve, as Christ has called us to do. This reminds me of a quote from practical theologian, Henri Nouwen: You don't think your way into a new kind of living - you live your way into a new kind of thinking.

Washing other people’s feet was the most astonishing act of service that Jesus ever did. He presided over a meal that unites us all at the same table… one bread, one body, one Lord… And in the next 24 hours, he was arrested, tried, beaten, stripped, and killed as his ultimate acts of service to all of humankind. And because we know the rest of the story, even as we approach the darkness of Good Friday or Karfreitag (Grief Friday in German), we see the resurrection on the horizon and know that Jesus’ ministry was not stopped by his death.

Some people do need to have their feet washed – the elderly, the sick, and others who cannot do this for themselves. But the real lesson here is that we should all be humble enough to do for others, serving out of love and devotion to God.

Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love,
show us how to serve
the neighbors we have from you.

This week I read a story on Facebook – the author was unknown, but it felt like a good closing story for tonight. A young woman spent the day with her dad and one of their tasks was to package the honey he had collected from his hives that morning. When they took the lid from the 5-gallon bucket, they found 3 small bees struggling to get free, drowning in all that sticky goodness. “Can we save them?” the daughter asked. “No, I’m sure even if we tried, they would never survive,” he replied. “Well, can we at least kill them quickly so they don’t suffer?” was her answer. So they scooped them out and place them aside while they got the rest of their supplies in order.

It didn’t take long for a few bees to seek out the small yogurt lid with the three trapped bees. Within an hour or so, these three little bees were surrounded by all of their sisters and they were cleaning the honey from their nearly dead bodies. A short time later, there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters. And when it was time for the daughter to leave, they saw that all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.

Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free. And I think that’s what Jesus is modeling for us. He is washing the feet of people who don’t even know how much trouble they are in. And he is doing it knowing full well that it’s one of the last impressions he has to make.

We will not wash one another’s feet tonight, but if you like, you may wash the hand of another person as we come to share in communion tonight. There’s a bowl with some warm, soapy water, additional water for rinsing, and clean towels for each one to use. And if that feels like too much of a risk, it’s OK. Jesus understands.

While we go about the ritual of foot or handwashing, please remember that this is a symbolic act of devotion. He didn’t require anyone else to provide that service that evening… he just left them with the example and the impression to take into the future. If I have learned anything in the last two years, it’s that our service doesn’t have to be the actual washing of hands and feet. When we continue to wear masks for extra safety, wash our hands, keep up to date with our vaccines, and eliminate unnecessary risks, those are worthy acts of service in our current environment.

Jesus calls us to serve. Our life’s mission is to see that while those acts of service may change from season to season, the underlying love is always the place from which we begin. Remember, we love because God first loved us. So let us serve the world in love. Amen.

Peace, Deb

Sunday, April 10, 2022

Sermon - Who's on Trial? (Palm/Passion Sunday C)

Sunday Of The Passion: Palm Sunday, Year C April 10, 2022
Luke 23:1-49

Who’s On Trial?

The people were ready for this day. They had been waiting for him for years, reminding themselves of God's promise to restore them. The Romans were in control of their land and their lives. But God would send the one who would lead them into a new time, a new life, where they would be free from the powers of this world.

The city of Jerusalem would welcome Jesus as that person today. "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" was the cry as he rode a colt into the city, as the people waved palm branches alongside the road. Here was the one who would save them, who would deliver them, and they would follow him.

What was it the people saw, or better yet, wanted to see, in Jesus? What did Peter see that would make him blindly proclaim he would never depart away from Jesus? What did Judas see in Jesus that he would follow him? Who are these people that followed Jesus through the streets of Jerusalem in what was both an act of religious devotion and political proclamation? In those moments, I’m sure they believed in their loyalty. But we know it didn’t last. Within the week, they would desert him, betray him, and call for his death? Had Jesus changed that much between the time he was hailed as the messiah and the time of his arrest and trial?

It turns out a lot can happen in seven days. After his triumphant entry, Jesus may have been the one arrested and killed, but it was the people who were on trial. When he rode into Jerusalem, he was admonished by the Pharisees to silence his followers. He would not, allowing them to say their piece. When he was taunted by the guards and soldiers, he did not silence them. When he was taken to the place he would die, the crowds gathered to hurl insults his way, and when he was hung on the cross, he was mocked. He could have asked God to intervene, but he didn’t. Those final days and hours became a courtroom scene of their own, where the people were put on trial as they testified against themselves.

As hard as it is, our observances of a Holy Lent and Holy Week ask us to enter into the moment and discover ourselves on trial. When have we declared our loyalty to a person, a team, a party, and then backed off when there were questions, or there was prolonged losing, or we felt disappointed? When have we run away or kept silent as someone else was being hurt, or falsely accused, sometimes when they are not even present to defend themselves? When have we joined in at poking fun at someone different from ourselves, rather than standing apart from the laughter, or even taking on their defense?

Today we don’t just tell a story of an innocent man going to his death; through the liturgy we offer today, we re-enact the trial of all people, including ourselves. The stage is now set, let the liturgy now present the facts… How we confess with our lips but deny his rule by our lives. In the death of Jesus upon the cross, we are found guilty. No one came forward to rescue him. No one stayed when he was arrested. We could not be found. Many questions remain, and maybe we will never fully understand how we walk in their same footsteps. But the greatest proof of God’s love for Jesus and us is that Good Friday is not the end of the story.

Our epistle lesson comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippian church. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I’m been pronouncing the name of the place wrong for all of these years – they pronounce it with a long “E” at the end, not an “I” as it is written in English. It is the site of one of the first Christian churches in Europe, and he held a soft space for the people there in his heart. In this letter, Paul writes from prison, disappointed that he cannot go to them amid their current struggles. The second chapter is a hymn, probably adapted to a worship setting and deep in theological meaning, echoing some of the same theology as written into the Nicene Creed.

Here in Philippians 2, we hear a word about the incarnation of Jesus. Paul reminds them that Jesus did not seek escape from trouble or death, but took on his humanity fully, revealing something deeper and truer about his nature. Paul offers Jesus as an example of humility, hoping that they (and we) will follow Jesus’ example so that we can experience unity with him and one another, in our servanthood together and the sharing of common goals and beliefs.

Jesus’ trouble feels overwhelming when we hear the story from beginning to end, but his story does not end with today’s gospel reading – we know how the rest of the story goes. Jesus’ vindication came through resurrection – moving him from humility to glory. Ours comes as we receive his sacrificial gift and example so that we can be vindicated through him.[i] The story doesn’t end with death, and the cross of Jesus Christ becomes not a sentence of condemnation for those who abandoned him, but rather an instrument of forgiveness and mercy.

We start Palm Sunday with shouts of support and acclamation, but the liturgy quickly proceeds to the hard stuff, the dark underbelly of truth about those who surrounded Jesus… and the truth about us. In reality, this is a difficult day. It should be. We are asked to look in a mirror and see who we are and what we are capable of, both good and bad. We can announce our loyalty, but clearly, we can be persuaded to abandon that loyalty in short measure. We can say we are present with one another, but can also betray another for the sake of our safety and run away in times of trouble. These are not things we like to admit about ourselves. And they are certainly not the things we want to talk about with others.

Hearing the Passion story read aloud requires us to hear the whole story… not isolated verses, or bits and pieces of scripture, but the whole tragedy as it unfolds over a long and difficult night. Yet even as we see ourselves in the story we tell today through the liturgy, we are reminded that this day and this week are not about us; they are about God's love for us…a God who longs to be in relationship with us, as we are, and as he created us to be. Look at the lengths he is willing to go through to see that relationship grow and flourish. This day and this week are about a new relationship with God made possible by his love for us and all the world, and a reminder that the road to that relationship will often be more difficult than we imagine or expect.

So, enter this week in humility. Expect to see yourself in the frailty of people like Peter, Judas, the soldiers, and Pilate. Enter the week in joy, anticipating the power of God to work in and through our frailty to make us new through his mercy. Enter the week in thanks, for the hope we have depends not upon ourselves but upon a loving God who won't let us go, regardless of our sins. Amen.

In the 4^th century, a Cappadocian bishop name Gregory of Nazianzus, produced a series of writings exploring the Trinitarian nature of God in the scriptures. His summery of Paul’s letter to the Philippians gives us a down-to-earth statement of why Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are so important to us. As you hear these words, think of Jesus’ last week, and of Paul’s hymn of exultation, which encourages us to not just take a step in Jesus’ shoes, but to become more like him.

Let us become like Christ, since Christ also became like us; let us become gods because of him, since he also because of us became human. He assumed what is worse that he might give what is better. He became poor that we through his poverty might become rich. He took the form of a slave, that we might regain freedom. He descended that we might be lifted up, he was tempted that we might be victorious, he was dishonored to glorify us, he died to save us, he ascended to draw to himself us who lay below in the Fall of sin. Let us give everything, offer everything, to the one who gave himself as a ransom and an exchange for us. But one can give nothing comparable to oneself, understanding the mystery and becoming because of him everything that he became because of us. [Gregory of Nazianzus, Festal Orations, p. 59].[ii]

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

Peace, Deb

[i] Bob Cornwall, TAKING THE ROAD OF HUMILITY - LECTIONARY READING FOR PASSION SUNDAY (PHILIPPIANS 2), April 4, 2022, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2022/04/taking-road-of-humility-lectionary.html

[ii] Ibid.