Sunday, March 25, 2018

“At the Crossroads: The Convergence of Parades” (Mark 11:1-11)


Everyone loves a parade . . . so, it should come as no surprise that we kick off Holy Week--the last week of Lent--with a parade.  Our scripture reading tells us of Jesus’ triumphal entry into the city of Jerusalem: “Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields.”  There were those who went ahead of Jesus, and those who followed, who shouted: “Hosanna! ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!’ Hosanna in the highest!”  This is a parade of joy and hope as the people shout hosanna . . . hosanna is an expression of praise, but it is also a call for mercy.  In Jesus they had hope that they would finally be delivered from their oppression. 

This was not the only parade happening in Jerusalem that day.  No, as Jesus’ parade made its way in from the east, there was another parade coming from the west.  From the west came another parade.  This parade was a Roman procession, which would have had a focal point on the Roman governor by the name of Pontius Pilate.  His was a parade to show might and power . . . to remind the people of who was in charge . . . to let them know that they were not going to find deliverance from their oppression.  There were horses, soldiers brandishing weapons, proclaiming the power of the empire.  Needless to say, this parade was not one of joy and hope . . . such expressions would be crushed with the threat of death.

The writers of the gospels do not mention this second, contrasting parade, though it did happen.  But I think we should take notice of the fact that there were two parades taking place on the same day in Jerusalem . . . one with a message of joy and hope, the other with gloom and doom.  We should take notice of this because each parade contributes to the events that would take place over the next week . . . each has its finger in the mix.  There is a convergence that brings these two together to tell the one story . . . to tell the final tale.

In my mind’s eye I imagine these two parades proceeding through the street of Jerusalem . . . each heading for the same destination though through different routes.  And, I imagine them suddenly converging upon one another . . . running into one another . . . and, then, BOOM! They smack right into one another.

Do any of you remember those old Reese’s commercials in which there is a guy walking down the street eating chocolate?  Coming from the other direction is another person eating peanut butter.  Neither is paying attention to what they are doing . . . then, BOOM!  They run right into each other.  Chocolate gets into the peanut butter, and peanut butter gets on the chocolate.  Remember those commercials . . . remember how they complained?  Then each takes a bite from the newly created mess . . . and, they like it?  The birth of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

That’s what I imagine happens in my mind’s eye . . . even though it didn’t.  Yet, a convergence still takes place.  Each parade influences the other . . . each mingles with the other . . . and, the end result is that we have what we call Holy Week.  In Holy Week we see the joy and the hope.  We also see the pain and suffering.  They have become mixed together in this holiest of stories . . . and, they cannot be separated.  They cannot be separated no matter how much we would like to separate them.

Unlike the Christmas story, the Easter story has this big gap between the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem and the resurrection of Easter Sunday.  We celebrate Palm Sunday with all of its pomp and circumstance and then jump right into the glory of Easter morning.  We jump right over the fact that it was not that clean and simple . . . we jump right over the fact that there was a convergence--a mixing--of two very different parades with contrasting messages.  These two parades produce the story that is told between Palm Sunday and Easter morning . . . it is a mixture of hope and joy, pain and suffering. 

No one likes to have his or her parade rained on . . . and, we--as the followers of Jesus, really do not care for anything to diminish our hope and joy . . . especially the stuff that takes place during Holy Week.  All that betraying, violence, and death really puts a damper on things.  So, why wouldn’t we want to jump straight from the triumphal parade of Palm Sunday into the glory of Easter morning?  It sure is a lot easier and a lot more manageable than the mess of Holy Week.  Who could blame any of us if we choose that route?

The problem with that is that it denies the rest of the story.  It denies the acknowledgement of the two stories converging and melding into one story.  The story is not an easy one to hear . . . and, it is an even more difficult one to live.  Following Jesus is not easy as he takes us to places we would rather not go.  In the days between the triumphal entry and the glory of Easter, the story is hard to hear and hard to live.  And, yet, in all honesty, if we are going to follow Jesus, we must follow Jesus through the days and events that lead up to his resurrection.

But, the choice is up to us as individuals.

So, going back to what I imagine in my mind’s eye of two parades converging.  I imagine that each parade comes to a crossroads of sorts.  And, there at the crossroad, the convergence takes place.  The two parades are mixed up . . . mingling among each other . . . and then, they have to go home.  Which way will they go home?

Will the people head home thinking the Pollyannish idea that with Jesus’ arrival it is all said and done . . . that they are delivered?  Or will the people cave in to the brutish tactic of the Roman Empire, too sacred to do anything else?  Or will the people actually follow Jesus as these two parades collide into one . . . a roller coaster of highs and lows, hope and despair?

Well, the decision will be theirs as they stand there at the crossroad.

We have all heard stories about the crossroad.  It is at the crossroad that one meets the devil to finagle a deal . . . where one bargains with one’s soul.  That is the mythical understanding of a crossroad, but in simpler terms a crossroad is a point at which a crucial decision must be made that will have far-reaching consequences. 

Our scripture tells us the decision that the people made . . . but, it does not tell us what decision we will make.  That is up to us as individuals.

On this Palm Sunday, as we rejoice in the triumphal parade of Jesus, we will come to the crossroad.  What will we decide?  Will we choose to leapfrog over Holy Week and go straight to Easter?  Will we quit in frustration and just ignore it all?  Will we enter into the days ahead, follow Jesus through it all, and admit to ourselves and God that it is not easy to follow Jesus . . . that faith falls somewhere between the two as they converge together?  What will you choose?

I hope you choose to follow Jesus in the days that are coming.  I hope you choose to continue and finish the work that you have been doing through this season of Lent . . . hard work that has been necessary to build your relationship with God and others. 

Yeah, everyone loves a parade.  At the same time there is work to be done once the parade is over.  May we continue to do the work that needs to be done as we follow Jesus from the parade to the cross to the empty tomb.  May God bless us as we stand at the crossroad . . . and, may we choose well.  Amen.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

“Cutting the Apron Strings” (Jeremiah 31:31-34)

From the time we are born until the time that we die, it seems as if we are always aiming for the future.  Think about it . . . when we are babies, we want to be children . . . when we are children, we want to be teenagers . . . when we are teenagers, we want to be adults.  As adults . . . we want to be married, parents, grandparents . . . we want to move from unemployed to employed, poor to rich.  We are always looking to a bigger, better, and brighter future.  Even as the followers of Jesus, we trod through our journey of faith with our eyes on the future . . . that heavenly reward.  We are future-oriented.  It is in our DNA.

And, that’s okay.  That is what we are supposed to do . . . we are to grow up, become independent, and live life on our own terms as individuals.  Thousands of book have been written on this process of individualization.  A big part of that individualization is that we become people who stand on his or her own two feet making the decisions that we need to make based on our own experience, knowledge, and wisdom gained from living.  That we are our own person.

Part of my job at the university is to coordinate a program for high school students with disabilities that helps them transition from high school to either college or the workforce.  Like many children they have grown up with their parents taking care of them, making decisions for them, and providing for them.  Thus they are pretty dependent on their parents, and probably more so than others because of their disabilities.  Or, as we like to say, they are tied to their mother’s apron strings. Unfortunately, children have to grow up and move on with their own lives . . . even children with disabilities.  Which is pretty scary for these kids.

The program is designed to help these kids make that transition.  Through mentorship from college students with disabilities, these kids are given the opportunity to begin exploring their independence as individuals.  They learn about things like self-determination, life management, life skills, and how to stand up for themselves through self-advocacy.  The program helps them to become who they are as individuals . . . who they are as God created them to be.  It is scary work, but in the end they begin to discover their selfhood and independence.  No longer are they so dependent upon their parents.  The apron strings are slowly being cut.

Which is what the parents want despite the fact that it is pretty scary for them too.  It is not easy letting go of someone whom you have loved since the day he or she popped into the world kicking and screaming.  Yet, it has to happen if the child is ever to realize his or her personhood as an individual.  Thus it is that the parents hope and pray that everything they have done will be remembered by the child as he or she transitions to independence.  That all of those life lessons will be remembered.  We call this “cutting the apron strings”.

Now, I may be wrong about how I understand the words of Jeremiah in our reading this morning . . . but, I hear Jeremiah talking about some apron string cutting in this passage.  Jeremiah is sharing a new covenant from God . . . a change in the relationship between the people and God . . . the way things are going to be.  In this God talks about no longer relating to the people as God always has.  No longer is God going to hold the people’s hands . . . no longer will the focus be upon the whole group . . . nor will it depend upon what the whole group does.  No, the relationship is about to change.

Now God is moving away from the whole and going to the individual.  God is cutting the apron strings and demanding that the relationship move to one between each individual and God.  That relationship won’t depend upon the whole group, but the individual.  The decision will be upon the individual.  God says, “No longer will a man teach his neighbor, or man his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest.”   And, to make this possible, God tells them: “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.  I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

With this covenant the proof of the relationship comes down to the individual . . . to his or her decision to come into relationship with God.  No one else can make that decision . . . not the house of faith . . . not the community . . . not the parents or family.  No one, but the individual can make that decision based upon his or her life experience and knowledge of God.  It cannot be done while hanging onto the apron strings.

I might be wrong, but I think all of us believe that when it comes to stepping into a relationship with God through Jesus, that it has to be done as individuals.  It has to come from our personal experience . . . from our personal knowledge . . . from our own hearts.  It cannot come from another person’s experience.  It cannot be based on someone else’s knowledge.  It has to come from ourselves.  No one can make that decision for us. 

Thus it is that we are called upon to cut those apron strings that keep us from fully becoming independent as who we are created by God to be . . . to be ourselves.  Within in our lives those apron strings are represented in our dependence to rely upon others to make up our minds for us . . . to allow the church to tell us what to believe . . . to let books speak for us . . . to quote the words of the preacher or teacher as if they were our own words.  During the season of Lent that has been a part of our journey towards the promise of Easter . . . going through and snipping those apron strings that keep us from fully embracing God in our lives.

It all comes down to us . . . each and every one of us as individuals who have been created in the image of God.  Individuals who have had the love, compassion, and grace of God imprinted into our hearts and mind.  Individuals whom God desires a relationship that comes from the person him or herself . . . that comes to God through his or her own heart.  As freely chosen as it has been given.

That is what God desires as God strikes out on this new covenant.  God desires that we will be God’s people . . . God’s children, not because we have been told to be by the church or anyone else; but, because we chose to be as individuals.  With this relationship, the future no longer matters because we will have discovered the Kingdom of God.  Amen.

Sunday, March 11, 2018

“Grace” (Ephesians 2:1-10)

Twice in our reading this morning we are told that we are saved by “grace”.  After a thorough description of our lives being pretty worthless we read the apostle’s words: “--it is by grace you have been saved.”  Then later, to emphasis that it is the free and unmerited favor of God, the apostle writes: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast.”  Simply put, “grace” is the unearned, unpaid for, undeserved, unmerited, favor of God offered to each and every one of us for free . . . that is “grace”.

As simple as “grace” sounds, it is hard to describe . . . hard to understand . . . difficult to receive . . . and, not easy to live up to.

It is no wonder then that the ex-slave trader turned poet and clergy, John Newton, proclaimed that God’s “grace” was “amazing” when he reflected back upon his past life when he wrote the hymn Amazing Grace in 1779.  God’s “grace” is so amazing that mere words cannot describe it, though Newton tried: “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.  I once was lost, but now am found, t’was blind but now I see.” 

In our scripture reading this morning, the apostle paints a pretty good picture to show us that none of us is worthy of God’s “grace” . . . that we are are despicable and disobedient people focused on caving into our sinful nature.  Because of this, says the apostle, we are dead.  Yet, despite this ugly picture the apostle paints of us, God loves us . . . God desires us . . . and, God shows us mercy through “grace” by welcoming us back into the family.  Plain and simple, God forgives us though we do not deserve to be forgiven.  Why?  Because God loves us.

So what is the problem?  Well, first of all . . . we don’t deserve it.  Second of all . . . it’s free.    

Therein lies the rub, I think . . . nothing in life is “free”.  We have been told this our whole lives . . . nothing is free . . . there is always a cost hidden somewhere . . . a price to be paid.  Everything has to be earned or paid for . . . yet, God’s “grace” is free.  Because it is free we have a difficult time believing and accepting it.  Surely there must be some fine print that we missed.  But the apostle tells us: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast.”  The bottom line is that there is nothing we can do to receive God’s “grace” . . . we cannot earn it, we cannot buy it, we cannot steal it . . . it is free.  It is God’s gift to us.  Nothing we do can ever change that.

All we can do is to receive the gift . . . receive the “grace”.  The first step in receiving the gift is to believe.  Believe that God loves us . . . loves us just as we have been created in the image of God . . . loves us as God’s children . . . loves us so much that God is willing to take us just as we are and welcome us into an intimate relationship . . . welcome us back into the family.  God knows that without us the family is not complete.  We have to believe this in order to receive this “grace”.

At the same time we know that no gift is ever truly received until it is used.  So it is with “grace” . . . once received it must be used . . . our lives, like Jesus’ life, must be lived in “grace”.  This is the response to the gift of God’s “grace”.  But, wait!  Works don’t produce “grace”.  The apostle even stated it in our reading this morning--”not by works”, but “grace” alone. Thus our response is not works, but life lived in “grace” as Jesus lived his life.  The apostle tells us: “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  Our response to the “grace” of God is to live our lives as Jesus lived his . . . full of love that shows mercy and grace as it was shown to us through Jesus by God.

Believe, receive, and live.  If we can get past the first two, we encounter the toughest part . . . living in “grace”.  The difficulty of living in “grace” come from, I believe, the fact that we do not experience much “grace” in our lives on a regular basis.  We don’t witness a whole lot of “grace” being practice in the world around us.  In the words that we hear . . . in the images that we see . . . there is not much “grace” being displayed.  This does not matter whether it is in the secular or sacred sectors of our lives . . . “grace” is rarely encountered and experienced in the world in which we live.

I think that this is because, as I said earlier, “grace” is difficult to describe, understand, believe, and live up to for all the reasons I stated earlier.  Free and unmerited favor . . . love . . . for our enemies?  That is a pretty tough row to hoe.  And, yet, the “grace” of God bestowed upon us through Jesus Christ is the same “grace” we are called to live each and every day of our lives . . . to love others as God has loved us.

That is hard work.  No doubt about that.  No where did Jesus say that it
would be easy.

As we continue through the season of Lent, we are now half-way through it . . . half-way through the examining, discerning, praying, and working to bring ourselves closer to God and one another by removing those barriers that separate us.  At this midpoint of the journey we encounter the apostle’s words on “grace”: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast.”  It is a stark reminder that we have been saved . . . not by anything we have done, not by anything we can purchase . . . but by the deep endless love of God who takes us for who we have been created to be.  We are saved!  Plain and simple . . . we are saved!

Here at the midpoint, we rejoice in this fact . . . we receive the respite it provides along the journey . . . and, in giving thanks, we return to the journey.  We return to the journey towards living our lives in “grace”.  It is only through “grace” that we truly live, and it is only through living “grace” that we show God that we understand.  As the apostle writes: “--it is by grace you have been saved.”  No matter what happens, may our lives reflect the “grace” of God as demonstrated in the life of Jesus . . . our Lord and Savior.  Amen.

Sunday, March 4, 2018

“Selling Jesus” (John 2:13-22)

As Americans, we understand what is going on in the temple courtyards.  It is basic economics--”supply and demand”.  The great crowds that flocked to Jerusalem could not bring the necessary items for sacrifice . . . the oxen, sheep, and doves.  Thus, born out of necessity, the business of selling the necessary critters for temple sacrifice existed . . . and, it was a good business for those involved.  These businesses had what the pilgrims and faithful needed, and they charged them well for the sacrificial animals needed.  It was simple “supply and demand”.  Also, another flourishing business there in the courtyard of the temple, were those who changed foreign currency into the local money . . . all for a fee . . . usually a hefty fee.  Again, “supply and demand”.  And, right in the middle of it all were the priests who were getting their cut of the profits . . . they had the location and the people . . . and, they brought the product straight to the people.  “Supply and demand”.

Now understand, this was business . . . religious business.  Offering sacrifices was a part of the Jewish religion at the time that our reading this morning is taking place.  The pilgrims and the faithful needed the animals in order to fulfil their obligations to God . . . to insure their rewards for being faithful.  The people had a need, and with the help of the temple priests, that need was met as a market was established in the courtyard of the temple . . . for a price.  In the end, everyone got what everyone wanted . . . the people got their animals for sacrifice and blessing . . . the merchants got their money . . . and, the priest got their cut.  This is economics at its simplest, and it is something that we Americans know and understand.

Thus we should be more than a little shocked at the actions of Jesus in this passage as he made a whip of cords to drive the merchants out, he flipped tables, and told all of them to “get out!”  Righteous anger, we say.  After all, these guys were taking the people to the cleaners . . . taking advantage of them in their need . . . and, they were unscrupulous.  At least that is what we assume; but, the writer of the Gospel of John never says that . . . not once.  Unlike the other three gospels, the writer of the Gospel of John never uses the phrase that they use in various forms: “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you have made it a den of robbers.” (Matthew 21:13; Mark 11: 17; and, Luke 19:46)   The writer never says that.  Instead the writer quotes Jesus as saying, “Get these out of here!  How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!”  In the Gospel of John, the cleansing of the temple has a different emphasis, and that emphasis is the temple of God . . . the house of God.

The dwelling of God is not a particular building or place, though there are temples and churches of which we refer to as being the “house of God”.  For the writer of the Gospel of John, the temple or house of God is not a building or a location; no, it is within the faithful. God dwells within our hearts . . . we all believe that.  There is the temple of God . . . there is the house of God.  Why? Because Jesus is there. 

In this passage Jesus metaphorically refers to himself as the “temple” when he says: “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”  To which his listeners are astonished as it had taken 46 years to build the temple to where it was at that time; but, the writer explains . . . they did not understand.  The writer states: “But the temple he had spoken of was his body.”

Thus it is, in John’s gospel, we see this cleansing of the temple story as a call by Jesus to clean our own houses . . . to get rid of that which is the selling and buying of something that money cannot buy . . . the grace of God.  A call to allow our house . . . our temple . . . to be the dwelling place of God in which we stand in the presence of God in awe and worship . . . a place of prayer and communication with the Holy . . . a place where we are who God created us to be and God accepts us for who we are.  In such a temple or house there is no need for sacrifice . . . there is no need for orthodoxy or ritual . . . no need for artificial props or accompaniments . . . no need to sell ourselves for anything, including God or Jesus.

Because of this, this is an appropriate reading for our time in the season of Lent.  Lent, being the time of the church year when we are called to remove those barriers that block our relationship with God and others.  In this passage we are called upon to look into temple . . . the house of God . . . that dwells within us, and to cleanse it.  In this cleansing we heed the warning to clear the house of any and every false sense of security . . . misplaced allegiances, religious presumption, pathetic excuses, smug self-satisfaction, nationalist zeal, political idolatry, and economic greed in the name of God.  These are only a few of the tables that Jesus would overturn in his day and ours.

As the followers of Jesus we do not need to sell out to fulfill God’s promise and will for each of us.  We have received it through the acts of Jesus.  As curious as the words that he spoke about his body being the temple, the disciples understood when he was raised from the dead.  From there on they believed.  The writer writes: “After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said.  Then they believed the Scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.”  The temple of God . . . the dwelling place of God . . . the house of God . . . it is within us.  It is in our each and every one of us . . . we carry God within our hearts.

We cannot purchase it . . . we cannot earn it . . . we cannot steal it.  It is ours for the taking if we believe.  The price has been paid.  The grace has been offered.  All we have to do is to receive it just as it is offered . . . God and only God.  We are to love it . . . completely--body, mind, and soul; and, we are to love others in a like manner.  In this season of Lent, where are we selling out Jesus . . . God . . . and, ourselves?  In the cleansing of the temple of John’s gospel we are called upon to do likewise.

God has what we need . . . it is as simple as supply and demand.  God will provide.  God will provide through grace and love . . . free of charge.  Believe and receive.  Amen.