What 'I Love You' Sounds Like

May 18, 2015 | No Comments

“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them” (Acts 2:2-3). It is difficult to describe the indescribable. It’s as if the Gospel authors didn’t even try to explain the resurrection. Mary came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away. With the exception of Matthew’s description of an earthquake and an angel, that’s about all we have to describe Jesus’ resurrection. It could be that while Jesus walked with the disciples during the forty days after his resurrection he never revealed exactly what happened. I would imagine that at least Peter, James, or John would have asked. On the other hand, maybe Jesus did describe what happened in the darkness of the tomb, but even words couldn’t fully contain the “other” of what resurrection is or was or will be.

And then we have the day of Pentecost. Luke, the author of both the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts, tried to describe what it was like for the Holy Spirit to come upon the disciples who had gathered together in one place. Just saying the first few words aloud should make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Go ahead. Read it aloud-“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind.” Don’t you almost expect it to happen again while reading it out loud?

On the one hand we have the darkness of an empty tomb, and on the other we have an ecstatic experience of a rushing wind and dancing fire. There’s such a stark contrast in how resurrection and Pentecost are described. It’s like when you are falling in love. You meet, you talk, you walk, you embrace. There’s something about the other person that wakes you up in the morning, but words just don’t adequately describe the butterflies in your stomach and the skipping beat of your heart. Then you say to each other, “I love you,” and then there’s something like the sound of a rushing wind and everything just feels right. You couldn’t describe it before, and maybe can’t after, but the world could be crumbling around you and it doesn’t seem to matter.

Jesus was raised and fifty days later Christ and humanity exchanged an “I love you,” that forever shook even the words on our tongue. Now that’s worship!

Understanding Privilege

May 7, 2015 | One Comment

Talking about white privilege is a heated and difficult subject for some. You can almost see blood pressure raise and lips purse when mentioning the phrase in what was supposed to be polite Starbucks conversation. “I’ve never owned slaves,” or “I’ve worked hard for what I have,” or “Why does everything have to be about race,” or “If they wouldn’t break the law, the police wouldn’t arrest them,” are common responses. Fair enough. In my personal daily confession I’ve talked to God about these same reactions in my own soul. As a southern, white male, I’ve received an abundant dose of “us and them” from an early age, the most dominant story being that because segregation is no longer legal it no longer exists. To quote Atticus Finch during his closing arguments of To Kill a Mockingbird, “We know [this] is in itself a lie . . . a lie I do not have to point out to you.” It’s true that segregation is no longer legal, but segregation’s legacy has had a dramatic influence on our current relationship with our brothers and sisters.

Yesterday while in carpool I heard a story from NPR about segregation in the post-WW II housing market, and how decisions made under “separate but equal” have widened the gap between both separation and equality. Richard Rothstein of the Economic Policy Institute detailed how Baltimore neighborhoods reflect a national legacy of segregation. During FDR’s New Deal, the federal government offered public housing to help alleviate the burden of a depressed economy. In the Baltimore area whites were offered suburban homes while blacks were offered urban housing. Even though housing was made affordable, it was not equally offered to all. Years later, as Rosthstein reports, the suburban homes offered now sell for around $500,000 while the urban housing available to blacks often deprecated in value. The accumulated wealth from suburban homes was often bequeathed to the next generation while those in urban housing had little to offer. Under the same government sponsored program both a cycle of prosperity and poverty were born.

Both whites and blacks during a segregated depression received government assistance, but the way in which the government offered subsidies have bolstered a system bent toward privilege for whites. I certainly don’t have all of the answers, but understanding this small snapshot of the “why” of privilege helps to crucify the blame that creeps into my soul when I hear stories of anger and violence. It is neither an excuse, nor should it be denied. While we fight the good fight for justice for all, maybe we should broaden the focus of a heated racial spotlight so that, Christ—the light of the world, might burn away both the sin in my own soul and the sin of an inherited system whose history we are quick (either through natural deafness or earplugs) to dismiss.

Understanding Privilege

May 7, 2015 | 2 Comments

Talking about white privilege is a heated and difficult subject for some. You can almost see blood pressure raise and lips purse when mentioning the phrase in what was supposed to be polite Starbucks conversation. “I’ve never owned slaves,” or “I’ve worked hard for what I have,” or “Why does everything have to be about race,” or “If they wouldn’t break the law, the police wouldn’t arrest them,” are common responses. Fair enough. In my personal daily confession I’ve talked to God about these same reactions in my own soul. As a southern, white male, I’ve received an abundant dose of “us and them” from an early age, the most dominant story being that because segregation is no longer legal it no longer exists. To quote Atticus Finch during his closing arguments of To Kill a Mockingbird, “We know [this] is in itself a lie . . . a lie I do not have to point out to you.” It’s true that segregation is no longer legal, but segregation’s legacy has had a dramatic influence on our current relationship with our brothers and sisters.

Yesterday while in carpool I heard a story from NPR about segregation in the post-WW II housing market, and how decisions made under “separate but equal” have widened the gap between both separation and equality. Richard Rothstein of the Economic Policy Institute detailed how Baltimore neighborhoods reflect a national legacy of segregation. During FDR’s New Deal, the federal government offered public housing to help alleviate the burden of a depressed economy. In the Baltimore area whites were offered suburban homes while blacks were offered urban housing. Even though housing was made affordable, it was not equally offered to all. Years later, as Rosthstein reports, the suburban homes offered now sell for around $500,000 while the urban housing available to blacks often deprecated in value. The accumulated wealth from suburban homes was often bequeathed to the next generation while those in urban housing had little to offer. Under the same government sponsored program both a cycle of prosperity and poverty were born.

Both whites and blacks during a segregated depression received government assistance, but the way in which the government offered subsidies have bolstered a system bent toward privilege for whites. I certainly don’t have all of the answers, but understanding this small snapshot of the “why” of privilege helps to crucify the blame that creeps into my soul when I hear stories of anger and violence. It is neither an excuse, nor should it be denied. While we fight the good fight for justice for all, maybe we should broaden the focus of a heated racial spotlight so that, Christ—the light of the world, might burn away both the sin in my own soul and the sin of an inherited system whose history we are quick (either through natural deafness or earplugs) to dismiss.

Jesus is Alive . . . So Now What?

April 14, 2015 | No Comments

Jesus is alive! He has risen. He has risen indeed…So what am I supposed to do now? Although they shared grief and sorrow (and fear) when Jesus was in the tomb, at least the disciples had a sense of closure. There is great sadness when a loved one dies, and yet when they breathe their last, sometimes you feel like you are exhaling for the first time. There is an odd grace in goodbye.

But Jesus is alive! This is certainly good news, but now our relationship with God is lovingly a bit more complicated. Paul writes in Romans 12 that Christians are to be a “Living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” A sacrifice is usually something finite and concrete, something you might offer for one particular need. The Jewish People would sacrifice an animal at the Temple as a means of thanksgiving or pardon or in celebration (or continuation) of blessings. Today we might make a special monetary gift or volunteer our time or take on a leadership role in the community or open our home to a friend in need. These sacrifices are a great thing, but they are all temporary.

The resurrection complicates our understanding of sacrifice. No longer is sacrifice a one time offering toward a special cause or a temporary agreement to serve with a foundation. The tomb is about closure, but Jesus is alive. We are to be a living sacrifice, which means that we offer ourselves in praise and thanksgiving to always be in service to God’s kingdom. In other words, a sacrifice is no longer something we do, it is who we are. We no longer volunteer at church. We are the church. We no longer serve the body of Christ. We are the body of Christ. As difficult as it may be to die for what you believe, it is more difficult (and more blessed) to live for what you believe. You only die once. You have to live everyday. Jesus is alive, and through grace, so are we.

"I Am" Becomes "This Is" Because "You Are"

April 8, 2015 | No Comments

Easter is the day when God breaks all of the rules. Easter is the day that creation was reborn. Easter is the day when God said, “No more” to death having the final word, and there’s one word in the story, one small, unnoticed word in the story that changes everything. I can’t wait to tell you. So keep your eyes and ears open as we walk with Mary to the tomb on that first Easter Sunday.

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.” Not only was this the first day of the week, but also it was the first day of a new creation. Just like on the first day of creation in Genesis, God created light. Here God again allows light to shine in the midst of darkness. In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, like a garden tomb whose stone had been rolled away. Then God said, “Let there be light,” as Mary turned and saw the Risen Lord. Before the sun had risen Mary came to the tomb and found that it was empty. Not only do we now have a deeper understanding of the creation account, but also the beginning of John’s Gospel makes more sense. In the beginning was the Word. The Word was with God and the Word was God. In him was life and the life was the light of all people. The light shined in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it. Jesus was resurrected before the sun had risen, and scripture had been telling us this all along.

“So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’ Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went towards the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.”

There is a foot race to the tomb. Truth is, there are many who are still running that race. While sitting at the bedside when someone is dying, I’ve never heard “I wish I had answered email more quickly,” or “I wish I had spent more time in the office,” or “If those decorations for the school dance were just a little bit better, it would have all been worth it.” You see, Mary is running from the tomb. Even though neither she nor the disciples understand what’s happening, her trajectory is correct. They get to the tomb and scripture says that the beloved disciple believed, but he did not believe in the Resurrection, but what Mary said was true, that the body wasn’t there, because after visiting the tomb, Peter and the beloved disciple go home. They do not run from the tomb proclaiming that Christ is Risen. They go home. They’ve run to the tomb and even it is empty and has nothing to offer them. At least this seems to be where they are.

“But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’” For whom are you looking, Jesus asks her. Remember Jesus’ first words in the Gospel. He was walking along the Jordan River, John the Baptist says, “Here is the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,” and Jesus asked the disciples who had gathered, “What are you looking for?” You see, the question has changed. No longer do we search for what, but for whom. Now that Jesus is raised, finding Christ now supersedes any kind of “what” we might find. “Who are you looking for,” is now the only question that matters.

“Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’” This is the Gospel of John at it’s greatest. John adds a seemingly insignificant detail, but it actually means everything. Mary mistakes him to be a gardener, but actually she is seeing Jesus for who he truly is. Holy Week should be called the tale of two gardens. Jesus prays in the garden of Gethsemane in a moment of doubt saying, “Father let this cup pass from me, but not my will but yours.” And the story ends with Jesus being placed in a different garden where no one had been laid before. From the Garden of Gethsemane to the Garden Tomb. But even more than that, one of God’s first jobs was that of a gardener. After God created humanity, scripture says that God planted a garden and placed them with it. When Mary sees Jesus as a gardener, it’s not a mistake. She’s just seeing him as he truly is—one who plants and cultivates life.

“Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” ’ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.” Mary doesn’t recognize Jesus until he says her name. It’s like when Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. The shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” Jesus then tells her, “I am ascending to My Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” So no longer does Jesus say, “I am the light of the world,” or “I am the bread of life,” but “I am ascending.” You see, throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus has been saying, “I Am.” On the last night with his disciples the “I Am” becomes “This is,” when Jesus says, “This is my body given to you, and this is my blood poured out for you.” Now Jesus says, “I am ascending,” or I am leaving. I Am becomes This is because you are the body of Christ. Jesus is ascending to the father therefore we are now the hands and feet of Christ in the world by the power of the Holy Spirit. We are the body. Christ’s blood runs through our veins. I am becomes this is because you are.

Jesus says he is ascending to my father and your father, to my God and your God, which brings us to that small, seemingly insignificant word that changes everything. “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’” Do you see it? Who goes to the tomb? Mary does. Mary alone goes to the tomb and runs to tell the disciples what she sees, except she says, “we.” We do not know where they have laid him. You see, the story is written as if you are there with her, or like I said at the beginning of the sermon, “Keep your eyes and ears open as we walk with Mary to the tomb.” We are a part of the resurrection story. Jesus says, “My Father and your Father. My God and your God.” Not only was Jesus raised, but Jesus was raised for us so that we might have a place in God’s story. In other words, live as if your life matters. Live as if your neighbor’s life matters. Live as if you enemy’s life matters. The Easter story is this. Love Wins. Life matters. Go and live as if you believe both to be true. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen!

“I Am” Becomes “This Is” Because “You Are”

April 8, 2015 | No Comments