On life's forks and tournament brackets . . .

     Why do we gather here this morning?  My guess, if I went around the room asking, I would get answers that fall somewhere along the lines of “Because we Christians are supposed to” to “I come because _______ makes me” and maybe in some places in between.  For us in the Church, we gather today to remember this amazing and wonderful act of God.  I know, for those of you who have been watching the shows on the cable channels about the “real Jesus,” we Christians seem not to know why we gather.  Maybe it is good that I address the reason first.

     We gather today because we remind ourselves that God has acted in history, that He continues to act in history and our lives, and that He will act in the future.  The world, of course, testifies that there is no God and He certainly did not nor does not act.  If there is a God, He just sits out there and watches.  He cannot reach into this world without upsetting the delicate balance He created.  The existence of evil is proof enough for some of this lie.  Various reasons are given for the Resurrection being a myth in these discussions.  My personal favorite is the one where the fishermen plotted to steal His body and hide it from the Romans because they wanted the power and prestige of Rome.  Never mind the fact that the “power and prestige of Rome” was three centuries and several persecutions off.  None of the earliest “plotter” got to enjoy their fruit of their labors, if such was their goal.  Talk about a leap of faith!  Some of us Christians contribute to that false myth.  I watched a show this week explaining that the Resurrection was not real, that the disciples had been suffering from a mass hallucination or psychosis.  The dead simply do not get up and live again.  I see the nods.  Some of you could not sleep either, eh?

     We gather today to remind ourselves, however, that God acts in history and in our lives.  The Resurrection of our Lord Jesus is simply the culminating event in salvation history.  If God can raise the dead, He can do anything and everything He promises.  Often, we need to be reminded of His power and His determination to redeem everything in the lives of all His people.  That is why we gather.  We gather to remind ourselves that we have a Savior and that our Savior can redeem all things in our lives, even death!

     A couple weeks ago, I found an incredible offer.  A local bar on Harpeth Avenue was offering half price beers for the next year, if one could correctly guess the Final Four.  Better still, the establishment in question was giving us a mulligan.  We got to pick five teams.  Well, I am an Episcopal priest.  I do like a good beer every now and again.  They serve microbrews on tap, and I saw an easy on the wallet way to enjoy them during the rest of 2016 and the beginning of 2017.  I see some of you are doing some quick calculations in your head and wishing you had heard about this offer before March Madness started.  That’s ok, your wives are doing the same calculations in their heads, too!  Yes, I played, and I played to win.  My big question was Kansas versus Villanova in my bracket.  I was not really sure who would win that matchup.  I figured Carolina would beat either Indiana or Kentucky.  I was confident Oklahoma would take down Oregon.  I had no doubts Michigan State owned Virginia.  Quit laughing.  This was two weeks ago.  How many of you had MTSU beating the Spartans?  Sure, we all pick a #12 seed to beat a #5—everyone does that, but something like only 8 people correctly picked MTSU to beat Michigan State.  And we all know Gonzaga is nigh near impossible to beat when they are a double-digit seed.  Seriously, always take God and the double digit seed when you have a chance, right?  Quit laughing, you know it’s true!  As you can all see, assuming Carolina wins this evening, I got three of four right.  I was this close to getting half price beers for the next year. 

     In many ways, life is like a tournament bracket.  Hold on.  Give me a moment.  If I spoke with 13-14 year-old you, would you have predicted your life?  Maybe some of us would have nailed everything in life, but I doubt it.  At that young age there is so much that must happen.  How many of us swore we would never get married, move out into the suburbs, change a diaper, drive the minivan, or be happy at the combined thought like that famous commercial?  How many of us ended up in the career path wanted at that age?  I daresay there would have been a lot more astronauts and professional athletes than there are.  How many of us work at the company we thought we would?  How many of us married the person we crushed on then?  And we have not even begun to think of the chaotic events we call life.  Some of us have been impacted by death or disease.  Some of us have had companies shut down beneath us, forcing us to follow professional detours or alternate routes.  Anyone dealt with natural disasters like floods or fires or tornados or some such natural violence?  Did you really have more than a few minutes warning?

     Those of you who attend infrequently or who are, perhaps, visiting, might wonder at the claim.  It is understandable.  More importantly, your doubts and confusion place you in great company.  Turn in your orders of worship to John’s account this morning.  I know most of think that John is the theologizer.  John is the Apostle who looked at the big picture.  Matthew, Mark, and Luke concentrated on the details, but John gave the meaning to the details.  In some ways, the gross oversimplification is understandable.  But, just because John theologizes does not mean he abandons all details.  Similarly, Matthew, Mark, and Luke certainly capture a number of the big statements regarding the Messiah Jesus.  But John captures some details to remind us that the Resurrection was a real, historical, transformative event and to remind you and me that we are not alone in how we come to our faith in Jesus and in God promises.

     Mary Magdalene and another lady or two are headed to the tomb before dawn.  It might seem an inconsequential detail to you and me, but to those living at the time of John’s ministry, such a claim is outlandish.  Sorry, ladies, but women in the ANE had very few rights, as you and I understand them.  Jewish ladies, in particular, though they were treated well by comparison to other groups in the ANE, were unable to study under a rabbi or to provide testimony in a court of law.  Right off the bat, in this chapter, John breaks both those understandings.  The women are the first to come to the tomb and see Jesus is not there.  Mary calls Jesus “Teacher” when she finally recognizes that the gardener is THE Gardener.  If John was propagandizing, this is a crazy way to start the story, by ANE standards.  Woman are the first to witness the Resurrection?  Judges would have tossed that case in a heartbeat.  Yet John tosses in that other little detail, “while it was still dark.”  Some of us are of an age when gender roles were significantly more defined.  Some of us may have been raised in a household where the woman got up to get lunches made, clothes ironed and laid out, and breakfast made.

     One of my greatest memories as a child is the visits to my grandmother’s.  She very seldom ever had to come in and wake me.  Usually, it was the wonderful wafting odor of bacon that brought me out of my sleep.  As wonderful as a warm bed was, the thought of bacon, eggs, and toast still make my mouth water.  My grandmother was always the first up.  She had to get everything ready for the day.  Whether it was just my grandfather or she had some family in the house, she was up first brewing the coffee, starting breakfast, packing lunches, and doing all that other stuff the matriarch did in those days.  I see the nods.  Some of you may have done that yourself for a time.  Today’s world might find it sexist that a woman was up first to get the household going, but the world of 2000 years ago would have understood it as normal.  Jesus’ death likely hung like a pall over the women that Sabbath, and they wanted to get His body spiced and moved from the preparation table into His shelf.  It makes sense they were up and about early.  That John highlights the fact that it was women, when women were deemed too hysterical for testifying, makes it appear as if it really took place in this world.

    What happens next?  Mary returns and tells the disciples the body is missing.  In the beginning of the account, she cares only to find out where the body of our Lord is so that she can minister to it.  Naturally, Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved go running to see for themselves.  What happens?

     The younger guy, John, gets there first.  He bends down and looks into the tombs, sees the strips of linen lying there, but does not go in.  If John was writing propaganda and seeking to raise his own influence with this Christian group, it is a weird way to do it.  Why not have himself understanding Jesus’ teachings that He must die and be raised after three days?  Why not be brave where Peter was a coward?  Why not enter before Peter, rather than after?  Because that is how life works!  This is not a propaganda piece.  This is not fiction.  This is an account of how the disciples first encountered the greatest act in salvation history!

     Lastly, of course, Peter gets there.  Poor Peter.  Not only does he not understand, but he gets there after the young guy.  Unlike John, though, Peter enters.  He sees the head-wrapping all rolled up.  Were somebody to have stolen the body, why roll up the head-wrapping.  If the body was moved, and someone was willing to risk defilement, the linens and wrapping should be trailed, as if a body was carried out of the tomb.  But these are lying where the Body was, and the wrapping is purposefully rolled up.  Peter leaves, and then John enters the Tomb.  John, we are told, puts the pieces together and believes, but Mary and Peter do not yet.

     Mary, of course, stays by the tomb weeping.  The two angels appear and challenge her, then Jesus appears to her.  At first, she presumes He is the gardener and asks where her Master’s body is.  Once Jesus speaks, Mary hears His voice and knows Him, a confirmation of John’s recount of the Good Shepherd earlier.  The angels’ presence, supernaturally, testifies to the fact that what has occurred here is of divine origin.  It is then that she claims Him as Teacher and clings to Him.

     John’s account of the Resurrection encounters is quite detailed.  Our selection today, though, focuses on the response of three.  My guess is that you who are visitors, and you who are infrequent attenders, and you who are faithful attenders are drawn to John’s account.  My guess is, if we went around the room, we are all on the same path as Mary, Peter, or John in our faith walk with God.  Look again at their response and compare them with your own standing.

     Some of us come to faith by hearing, like Mary.  Perhaps there are signs of God’s power in our lives all around us, but we are too blind to see them.  We are overcome by the problem and find ourselves oblivious to the Lord’s response and actions in our lives.  Maybe it was the story of our parents, maybe it was the story of our grandparents, maybe it was the story of a spouse or a child, maybe it was the story of a small group or coworker, but in some way we were drawn into this walk, this search, of the Lord who was always seeking us.  Perhaps some of us are still looking.  Some of us, no doubt, have heard His voice as clearly as Mary did 2000 years ago.  But Mary’s struggle with the Resurrection ought to comfort us.  Hearing the stories of the marvelous deeds He has done can be the catalyst that causes us to wonder at events that have transpired in our lives.  Hearing the works of power that He has done may cause us to look back on our own experiences.  Maybe there has been provision in the face of privation.  Maybe there has been incredible saving in the face of death or extreme danger.  Maybe there has been reconciliation that defies all expectation.  Chances are, though, there are events in all our lives that remind us that God is acting in our lives every bit as much as He did in the lives of those disciples.  Maybe, for those of us who need to hear His voice, He is speaking even now to us in the same gentle tones He did with Mary that Easter morning, placing us in the midst of that saving embrace.

     Of course, not all of us respond to voices or lectures, right?  Some of us need to see for ourselves.  Certainly John falls into that category, as will a number of disciples, Thomas the most notable.  Does John understand the significance and believe in the beginning?  No.  He does not know what to believe.  He stands at the entrance of the tomb trying to solve the puzzle in his own mind.  My guess, and it is only a guess as he does not record his thoughts, is that he was trying to figure out why somebody outside the disciples might steal the Body.  Then, as he reflects on the details, he begins to wonder about our Lord’s teaching.  Even when he writes that he believed, he qualifies it with the understanding that he still did not understand from the Scriptures.  What had taken place took place to fulfill God’s promises to humanity.  As far back as the expulsion of Adam and Eve, God promised to work to restore humanity to Himself.  But John has no understanding of that yet.  We might see he has not attended the Bible studies, listened to enough preaching, or spent enough time in prayer.

     Many of us are like John.  The details are before us.  The testimony is right in front of us, but we are not sure.  We are scientific.  We are too smart to be gullible (except when it comes to electing politicians).  We need to figure these things out for ourselves and reconcile them with what we understand.  The problem, of course, is that God is beyond our understanding.  Just when we think we understand Him or have Him right where we want Him, He acts!  Outside the faith community, outside the study of Scriptures, outside intentional communion with Him, we may miss the significance or even miss the sign altogether.  But we understand He is working in the world around us; we desperately want to believe that He is working for us!

     If you have never paid close attention to the story of the Resurrection before, Peter’s response may surprise and encourage you.  In many ways, Peter describes our own walk with God.  Peter is the one upon whom Jesus promised to build His Church.  Peter is the one who will preach that incredible sermon on the Feast of Pentecost, empowered by the Holy Spirit, and begin to place the activities of God in the lives of those who hear and in the world around us.  But that is some time off in the future.  Peter, remember, just lied about his relationship to Jesus this past Thursday.  Peter, who was willing to die with Jesus and who raised the only sword in defense of Jesus, chickens out when confronted by powerful serving maids.  Can you imagine the shame?  Can you imagine the self-loathing?  Most of us do not need to imagine it because we live it.  Every one of us gathered here this morning, each and every one of us gathered this morning to celebrate the Feast of the Resurrection has those disappointments in our own lives.  During the church year I often refer to them as our secret unlovable sins.  We know we know better, but we do things which we know disappoint our Lord.  Maybe those secret sins are simply the blowing off of the gathering to which He calls us.  It is an easy command to break bread, to pray, and to teach and study with other Christians, but life sure tries hard to get in the way.  Before we know it, weeks, months, years, and maybe decades have passed before we know it.  And we fear to approach a church again for fear that God is disappointed in us.  Maybe our sins are more professional.  Maybe we sacrificed family to climb the corporate ladder.  Maybe we trusted in mammon when we should never have forgotten God.  Maybe we sought happiness in anything other than God’s saving embrace, and we came to see ourselves as a disappointment in His eyes.  Maybe our secret sins are relational.  Perhaps we are judgmental of others but know ourselves deep down to be hypocrites of the worst sort.  Maybe we are quick to condemn the sins of others and do so to deflect such criticisms that could be leveled at us.  I see the squirming.  It is tough to learn that our Lord died for us, too, isn’t.  It is tough to learn that our Lord can forgive us and restore us, just as He did Peter, some twenty centuries before.  It is tough for us to accept that He can love us and forgive us, even when we know we are, like Peter, unworthy of such love and such forgiveness.

     Brothers and sisters, the Feast of the Resurrection is that wonderful time when we gather and remind ourselves that God has acted, that God acts, and that God will continue to act for the welfare of all His people.  God has promised, through our Lord Christ, that all our sins have been forgiven and that we are a redeemed, a freed, people.  That shame and fear and self-loathing which should rightfully belong to each of us has been embraced by our Lord on the Cross.  And, although such good news would be grand in our ears, still it is not Gospel.  He has promised that everything in our lives will be redeemed.  As we travel though the bracket or forks we call life, making decisions, we do so confident of our destination.  We can make the absolute worst decision and know that He will redeem it for His glory.  We can make choices that while maybe are not the worst, are certainly not the best.  Still, He will redeem even those choices.  And when we make the right choices, the ones which we are confident glorify Him, we know we will be blessed.  True, to outward appearances it may seem as if we lost.  We may be taken advantage of, we may be hurt, we may even make choices which involve tremendous self-sacrifice, but He has promised that He will justify us all in the end, even as He justified our Lord Christ.  Put in the language of the day, you and I are guaranteed a spot on the top of the podium.  We may miss the excitement of the Sweet Sixteen or Elite Eight, we may even seem to lose at important times, but in the end, we who claim Him as Lord get to share in His glory!  And we are reminded this day, this day when death’s sting was taken from our side, that He has the power to accomplish all that He purposes in our lives!  More amazingly, He has the willingness to address us all, whether we are a Peter, a Mary, or a John, and remind us that His is the Voice calling to each of us, calling each of us to His loving embrace.  Brothers and sisters, do you claim that embrace?  Do you hear that voice?  Why not claim Him as Lord and watch Him turn all things new in your life, even as He did those faithful three about whom we read this morning?  

Peace,

Brian†

Remember the past as we walk in the present and look to the future . . .

     Now, you all know me well enough to know that this week I wanted to preach on Philippians.  It is not as rare as you might think, but whenever I can get a little shock value out of the language of the Bible, I tend to take it.  Our translators chose to translate a word as rubbish rather than what it really means.  Skubala is somewhere between crap and the s-word.  Today would have been my opportunity to talk s-word at you all and you would have to sit and take it!  Visitors have to be wondering what is going on now.  They thought they were coming to a church, in the season of Lent no less!

     As an aside, and as another one of those Rome stories that many of you complain I do not share enough, I have a water cooler story to share.  I have no idea if the facts claimed are true, but I like to think they are.  We would gather for snacks and coffee in the morning and wine and cheese in the afternoon while I was in Rome.  Anyone who happened to be around and staying in the cardinal palazzo was also encouraged to snack or drink.  That meant I got to hear the weirdest water cooler talk you can imagine.  By water cooler talk, of course, I mean workers complaining about the boss.  What made the situation odd was that every complainer was ordained, and the boss was Pope Francis.  Picture priests, bishops, and cardinals gathering for a repast and griping about the old boss.  Weird thought, is it not?

     In any event, our reading for the day had included one of those “earthy” words or idioms.  I cannot remember which word prompted the discussion, but one of the bishops or cardinals asked me how parish clergy handled the passage with their congregations.  Now, I laughed.  The idea that I am normal and representative of all parochial priests is crazy.  I told the guy that.  Then I proceeded to talk how I simply dive right in and preach what is being said, if I feel that where God is leading me to preach.  I remarked how the language is shocking, but that how we Americans sometimes need our sensibilities shocked a bit.  Naturally, they asked for some recent examples and I shared.  I think the “dirty rags” shocked them the most.  They are supposed to be celibate, so I am guessing they do not spend a lot of time discussing women’s menstrual cycles, or the consequences.  Not only have I had to run that errand for my wife, but I have had to run that errand for daughters.  You husbands know what I am talking about.  I see the grimaces.  That’s sort of how they responded.  The talkative one of the group, after I had finished, gave me one of those “bah, you are as bad as the holy Father.  He strolls around here in a white t-shirt with the words skubala happens in Spanish.”  Wrap your minds around that image.  I must say, I’d really like to believe it is true, but it may just be employees griping about the boss!

     I may have wanted to preach on skubala, but God seems to have had other ideas.  Oh, I may preach on the same crap, (get it?) but not as bluntly.  Turn in your order of worship to our passage from Isaiah.  Our reading comes today from the 43^rd chapter of Isaiah.  I’m going to guess, based on comments over the last year, that very few of us have spent much time studying the entirety of the book of Isaiah.  By way of background, the passage for today comes from what experts call “Second Isaiah.”  There has been great hash made of the number of authors and editors of this rather large book.  One that I read this week complained that it had to be more than one author.  Anyone reading the doom and gloom of the first 40 chapters could not help but notice the abrupt change in tenor.  No single author, according to this commentator, could ever be so doom and gloom and so full of hope at the same time.

     In truth, I do not care how many hands participated in the writing and editing of Isaiah.  If the book is God-breathed, as we and the Jews would agree, then we are picking nits and guessing when we fight over who wrote what.  Such arguments are good for those steeped in literary criticism, but they do little to satisfy us.  As an aside, though, I will remind you that the role of a preacher is to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.  Isaiah has the wonderful job of reminding Israel that God has been faithful to His covenant with them.  They have ignored His instructions, they have chased after false idols, they have stolen from widows and abandoned orphans to their fates.  In short, they have earned punishment they are experiencing.

     For those who do not know or have forgotten the Covenant, God promised them that, so long as they kept the Covenant, He would bless them.  The rains would fall.  Their enemies would be unable to hurt them.  They would be a blessed people.  But if they persisted in chasing after idols and ignoring Him and His instructions, He would cause the Land to disgorge them.  In effect, they would be ex-communicated!  For them, possession of the Land was very much sacramental.  It was an outward sign of their relationship to Yahweh.

     Isaiah, in today’s reading, is writing sometime in the 600’s BC.  Those of us who know history realize that Babylon has rolled through town.  Part of the population has been carried off and dispersed throughout other parts of the Babylonian empire.  Both those left in Israel and those scattered are simply too small in number to be a threat.  ANE emperors would often scatter conquered peoples throughout their villages and cities.  If one could not speak with one’s neighbors, it was incredibly hard to foment rebellion.  And if the emperor was shrewd, he could play ethnic enemies against one another.  In effect, the enemies would be more concerned with one-upping each other than their own freedom.  It was a great way to subject people, and Babylon used the method well.

     Israel, of course, wonders if the covenant is still in place.  Has God finally abandoned them?  The Exile was a bitter pill for Israel.  We might think it far worse than slavery in Egypt.  Before their time in Egypt, Israel was a small family, about 70 in number.  They really had not tasted the potential blessings of being God’s people yet.  Before the Babylonian captivity, however, Israel has been a moderately powerful nation.  We would call them a regional rather than superpower today.  David has conquered the Land.  Solomon , at least for a time, led them in a period of incredible wealth.  Then came the apostasy and abandonment of the covenant.  Despite various warnings, Israel continues its own course.  Then, God used Babylon to punish Israel for its sins, just as He had promised He would do.  From the heights of David and Solomon’s rule, Israel has descended back into the depths of slavery in Egypt.  Worse, they had been living the blessing.  Now, they were knee deep in the curse.

     Then comes the word of the Lord.  We cannot read the first couple verses of this passage and not be reminded of the Exodus.  God made the path in the sea; God wiped out Egypt’s army.  We talked a bit last week about the Charlton Heston movie.  When Egypt pens Israel up against the sea, what does Israel do to ensure its safety?  Nothing!  They walk on the dry path between the walls of water.  God fights the battle for them.  He keeps the chariots at bay until every last child or elderly person and their animals can cross the sea.  Then, as the chariots come thundering across the path, He clogs their wheels.  Think of the panic that should have happened.  Can you imagining trying to outrun an army of chariots?  I’d be dead in the first 50m.  Me at 80 years?  2^nd or 3^rd step!  We laugh, but God protects them all, and not a single sword is lifted by Israel in its own defense.  God does everything!  All hearing the words of the prophet Isaiah would be reminded of that incredible event.  Some would even remember the manna, the water in the wilderness, the quail, and maybe even the sandals not wearing out.

     No doubt the temptation would be to call upon God to do the same to Babylon.  But God says to forget the former things; He is about to do something new.  He will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.  The wild animals will honor Him.  Can they not perceive it?

     We live in a world that seems every bit as chaotic as an Exiled Jew.  Think on our church for a moment.  We were a church that birthed presidents, Senators, members of Congress, Supreme Court justices, Cabinet members, and ambassadors.  Now?  We are lucky if there are 450,000 people worshipping with us on any given Sunday.  Our BCP and our services informed the powerful of this country.  Now, we are smaller than the margin of error on any poll regarding Christianity.  We cannot even move the needle on a Christian poll if we all vote the same way!  How sad is that?

     We comfort ourselves in many quarters by claiming that everyone else is shrinking too.  All the mainline denominations are shrinking, so we think that excuses us for our own losses, or so we claim.  Most of us gathered here together are now experiencing something new in this country.  Fewer than half of respondents claim to be Christian.  Think on that for just a second.  When Pew Research, I think it was, did that first poll that put Christianity in the minority in America, they let people self-identify.  They did not go to pastors and ask us to say who is in and who is out.  They let Americans choose whether they thought themselves in or out.  And some 54% of respondents said they were not Christian.  Ironically, new immigrants had a net positive  effect on that number.  At least we are welcoming them in all corners with open arms, right?

     And, lest we be tempted to pick on the larger denomination and pat ourselves on the back, look around this sanctuary.  How does the number of those present stack up against the numbers of five years ago?  Ten?  Twenty?  Advent is, in some ways, a shadow of herself.  We have forgotten our heritage and our mission, and people have drifted away!  Oh, we might want to blame the low attendance today on “Springing Forward” last night, but let’s be honest.  We Sprang Forward in years past, too.  We have mirrored the decline of the larger denomination far too well.

     What about politics?  You know, when I settled on this passage last week, the Chicago protest had not yet happened.  We are a nation that has produced the likes of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, FDR, Martin Luther King, and this is the best that we can do?  We have some 350 million people upon which we can draw, and these candidates for the presidency are the best we can do?  What happened to us?  When did we become so rabid in our politics that we began choosing from the fringe?  Rabid Republicans are confident that we will be ill served by either Senator Sanders or Secretary Clinton, if either of them win the fall election, right?  Quit laughing.  Rabid Democrats are just as thrilled at the prospect of a Trump or Cruz presidency.  I can joke that we know a politician is lying because their lips are moving, and no one defends their candidate.  Why?  We have all grown fat and cynical with respect to our politicians.

     What about personal chaos?  Some of us are burdened by the cares of life that we pay no attention to the wider concerns of the world.  How many of us are struggling in fights against various diseases?  Some of us have hearts that are failing.  Some of us are losing our eyesight.  Too many of us are fighting cancer.  Some of us are fighting questions of provision.  We may pretend that there is no pressure to keep up with the Joneses here in Brentwood, but how many of us have hid our worries from our brothers and sisters?  At least our relationships with one another and with others in our lives are as strong as ever.  Can you imagine if we had to deal with failed marriages, tough parent-child relationships, squabbling sibblings, or jerks at work or on the roads?  Boy, things would really seem out of control then.

     Yet it is into those messes, and others that I have left unnamed today, that He speaks.  We are so busy in the chaos, do we stop to listen?  Can we see?  I think we forget who it is we are called to cast our cares; I think we sometimes think we have to solve our own problems.  Maybe it is just the hustle and bustle makes us deaf and blind to Him and His movement in our lives. . .

     That’s part of my job, right?  To remind you all that He is still at work in all your lives?  Part of our problem is that we want Him to do things our way.  We like to think we know what is best and forget who it is we are called to trust.  One of my favorite examples centers around a lady who was struggling with provision.  She came to me mad that God had abandoned her in her time of need.  She explained the need and how she needed a winning lottery ticket or inheritance to cover the bill.  As we chatted, she shared how there had been some small provisions.  Her insurance company had issued a rebate check for overpayment or safe driving.  The IRS had discovered she’d paid a couple hundred dollars to much a year or two earlier.  A loved one had given her a $100.  As she went on bemoaning God’s forgetfulness, I stated that which you are all thinking.  I asked her how much of these little provisions she had received.  All told, she was within $60 or so of her need.  I pointed that out to her.  She disagreed.  That was just the world at work.  Yes, in my world both the IRS and Insurance companies are renowned for their generosity.  Both are famous in my world for giving back money.

     Like you and me she wanted the splash.  She wanted that great winning ticket or me to be flush with discretionary funds or a stranger to cover the bill in a pay it forward movement.  What she had gotten was what she needed, and it did not cost a loved one a death.  She just wanted the huge sign, as if the IRS and Insurance were not like stones rolled away from an empty tomb!

     Many of us long for the great signs of power.  Who does not want to see the ocean divided in two, water turned to wine, manna waiting on us every morning, or see the Resurrected Jesus?  We long for those powerful miracles of the dead rising, disease being healed, the blind having sight restored, the demonic cast out, and the storms of our lives calmed.  What we should be longing for, though, is God.  As He reminds us in the brief passage, He gives water in the desert.  He makes paths in the wilderness.  He is the One who forms His people for Himself, that they, you and I, might declare His praise.

     The call in Isaiah is not one for the purpose of looking for the big miracle, though that can happen at times.  No, indeed, the call is to remember who it is that calls us, forms us, cares for us, and loves us.  That God has done and is capable of mighty things in our lives.  But is that God who promises to do the new thing and still enable us to praise Him, if we perceive Him.  Nothing about our Lord has changed.  He is as immovable as we are moveable; as constant as we are haphazard; as faithful as we are idolatrous.  And it is He who will see us through the chaos of our lives.  He is not a God limited by the region of His people; heck, He not a God limited by anything of His people.  He truly is Lord of all.  And just as His mercy and love have seen His people through numerous governments, through rises and falls in the numbers of His people, through slavery and freedom, through health and disease, and even through untold natural disasters, His mercy and love will see us through whatever it is which befalls us in life.

     Put in different terms, the God who saved us in the past will walk with us through the present even as He is ensuring our future with Him.  And it is that relationship we share with Him that defines us, or rather should define us.  In this the fifth week of Lent, we should be well aware of our need for a Savior.  We should understand at a visceral level of our own inability to please God by ourselves.  Our sins pollute us and stink as skubala in His nose.  Though we rightly deserved our consequences for our sins, He came down from heaven.  Though we rightly deserved death for our sins; He amazingly bore that cost for us.  And though we might think ourselves separated from Him at our death, He demonstrated that amazing sign that we might know His power equal to His love and mercy.  While the rest of the world is clucking its tongue and stressing about life’s chaos, you and I are called to remember the character of the Lord who saved us.  Better still, we are called to share His love of us and His willingness to save everyone one of us with those not yet part of His family.  That, my brothers and sisters, is perhaps the greatest miracle ever wrought, that He would use men and women and boys and girls like you and me to share His love.  That, my friends, is truly a God worth all our praise!

Peace,

Brian†

He has rolled away from us our disgrace . . .

     Her name was Crystal.  We never met in person.  I was “introduced” to her on Ash Wednesday three years ago.  Now that you are really confused, I’ll share some details.  After my last Ash Wednesday service three years ago, I received a message and then some phone calls and e-mails.  A lady over in Knoxville had been doing down here in TN what we were doing up in Iowa.  She was, if my memory serves me well, part of Derria’s group at EndSlaveryTN.  The lady had found me through a mutual “virtual” friend in Atlanta.  I say virtual because Chris and I had never met in real life.  Chris was a college chaplain in the Atlanta area.  Christi had contacted him because Crystal had reached out to her.  Christi had met and tried to rescue Crystal some weeks or months before.  Now, Crystal had contacted Christi.  She wanted to be rescued.  The problem was that she was in Milwaukee.

     Chris told Christi that he knew of a guy in the upper Midwest who was fighting slavery.  Milwaukee was not that far from Davenport on a map.  Maybe this guy, Brian, could help.  So Christi reached out to me asking if I could help.

     I did not know anybody in Milwaukee, but I had a hope.  Bishop Amos, the local RC bishop, was part of a big church, too.  Maybe he would know someone in that area.  Did I mention it was Ash Wednesday?  Do you have any idea how busy those days are for parish priests?  Imagine you are a bishop.  To make a long story short, I called bishop Amos, left him a message with the details, and asked him to call me when he got back home from all the services.  I reminded him that I would be up past midnight.  Then the waiting began.  From time to time Chris and Christi would check in.  Heard anything yet?  Think he will help?  Should we be encouraging you to start driving?

     Finally, the call came.  I gave bishop Amos the details.  He told me to try and stay free in the morning, but he would do anything and everything he could.  Before leaving to take the kids to school the next morning, I received a call from the head of Catholic Relief Services in the Archdiocese of Chicago.  As the Romans organize themselves, Milwaukee was part of the Chicago Archdiocese.  The voice on the other end of the phone needed some more details.  CRS had been instructed to do all that they could to help this Crystal to freedom.  That was my wonderful contribution to the first rescue in which I played a part.  Hours and hours of conversations.  Hours and hours of sitting at a site.  Dozens of offers extended to help those trapped in a life not of their choosing.  All that effort, and this was my first rescue.  And my only contribution was a few phone calls.

     Later that afternoon, I received another call from someone at CRS.  She had been asked to call me and tell me that Crystal had, indeed, been rescued.  She now had a lawyer, a social worker, a priest, and I think a nun assigned to her.  I was politely asked to share this news with Bishop Amos and told that my involvement in the case had ended.

     Given my incredibly important role of making a few phone calls, it might not surprise you all that I forgot about the lady in question.  In my mind, I was not really integral to Crystal’s freedom.  Christi had done the heaving lifting of forging a bond of trust.  CRS, at the request of Bishop Amos, had done the real rescue and handled the legal complexities.  Yes, the story preached well.  The Church, the mystical body and bride of Christ had worked magnificently on Ash Wednesday, a day when tons of people began to give up Facebook because they needed to make a “sacrifice” for Lent.  We had reminded ourselves of the dust from which we were created and destined to in death, we had been called to a season of self-examination and reflection, and we had proclaimed freedom to a slave.  We had crossed denominational and theological lines.  Christi was a non-denom, I think.  Chris was a progressive Episcopalian from Atlanta.  I was a Neanderthal Episcopalian from Iowa.  The Romans were Roman.  It was, looking back on it, a wonderful story.  God often uses the metaphor of slavery to explain our ties to sin.  Israel learned this in Egypt and Babylon.  Christians learned it in the Roman empire.  Heck, Wilberforce and his Anglican companions learned it during the Atlantic slave trade.  Crystal had needed someone to care, a redeemer, a savior.  And we had modelled the life and work of the Savior, the Redeemer.  We had done our duty and then gotten back to the business of the church.

     As I said, I had forgotten about Crystal.  Until one day I received a hand written note with no return address on the envelope.  I won’t go into all the details of this amazing note, but Crystal had written me and my church to thank us for all that we had done to help rescue her.  From my perspective, I had made a few calls.  Big deal.  From her perspective, of course, it was a huge deal!  We had risked much for someone we did not know and on someone who could only offer us a pittance of a thank you.  She wrote that the thank you sounded so small in her ears and before her eyes, given all that had been done for her.  Father, I will never be able to explain to people’s satisfaction how it happened to me.  Heck, I still don’t understand how it happened to me.  I do know this, Father.  A year ago, I would never have dared to dream that I would ever get to see my girls again.  When I went to sleep, I cried over what they must have thought about me.  When I woke up, I knew how ashamed they would be if they ever knew what had happened to me.  Heck, sometimes, I wondered if they ever allowed that what had happened was not my choice.  From their perspective, they must have thought I walked out on them, abandoned them, decided I was through with them.  You cannot know the shame, the disappointment, the fear, the pain.  That’s why the thank you sounded so small to her.

     I share that story by way of introduction to the Gospel found in Joshua this week and to the Gospel that should be in all our lives each and every day we draw breath.  I know.  You wanted a sermon on the Prodigal Son, the Loving Father, or the Ungracious Older Brother.  I give that one a lot in the Parenting Adult Children class, so join us on the third Tuesday if you really want to hear that series.  I also know most of us at Advent are not big students of the Old Testament.  We are slowly trying to change that.  But to take you back in Israel’s history recounted in Joshua, a lot has happened in the first five chapters.  Joshua has taken over the mantle of leadership from Moses.  Israel has crossed over into the Promised Land.  The stones have been erected so that, in the generations to come, when children see them, they will ask parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles about the stones.  Then, those older and wiser will tell of the saving grace of God in His people.  The spies have been sent to look at Jericho, and they have met a prostitute named Rahab.

     Theologically speaking, there has been a significant omission in their life.  What had happened the evening before Israel’s departure.  You all have seen Charlton Heston, right?  They celebrated the Passover Meal.  They took the blood of the lambs and painted the lintels so that the destroyer would pass over them.  All of Egypt suffered at this curse, but Israel was spared and told to remember always that the Lord has passed over them.  Now, for the first time since that first Passover, and in the beginning of God’s final fulfillment of His promise to Abraham and Sarah, Israel is celebrating a Passover Meal in the land of Canaan!

     Of more interest to us ought to be the curious introduction of this pericope.  Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.  What disgrace has God rolled away?  And why is His willingness to roll away disgrace important to us?  What possible disgrace could we share with Israel, and why would we need to know that God has rolled it away?

     I know few of us here study the Old Testament.  All of us will today for a bit.  How does Israel respond to their freedom?  Those of us who watch Charlton Heston’s movie assume that, for the most part, Israel was excited and thrilled to be leaving Egypt.  It makes sense that those who had a share in Egypt’s authority might be upset, but we stubbornly cling to the idea that Israel was overjoyed at their freedom.  A cursory reading of the Scriptures, upon which the movie was loosely based, tells a different story.

     When Israel finds itself up against the sea and hemmed in by Pharaoh’s army, how do they respond?  They accuse Moses, and not for the only time, of leading them out into the desert because there was not enough gravesites for them in Egypt.  Their cry is you brought us out here to die.  You and I might be quick to dismiss their distrust of God and His power, after all He ignored their cries for freedom for generations, but they have witnessed the ten plagues.  Prior to Egypt disgorging them, God had battled all the Egyptian gods and their priests in their strongholds!  And He had won!  Not only had He won, but Israel was spared the various curses.  God was not just omnipotent and punished everyone.  Even as He was punishing Pharaoh and the Egyptians, He was protecting His people.  But, like so many of us, their memory is far too short.  God might be powerful enough to face down Osiris or Ra or some other minor god in Egypt, but He lacked the troops and defenses to handle the Egyptians and their chariots.

     In case you have not read the story in the Bible, no one from Israel raises a hand in their defense.  God, once again, protects and shepherds His people, even as He punishes His enemies.

     Of course, having walked on dry land between two walls of water in the sea, Israel now trusts in God, right?  Those laughing have read the story.  Israel, once again, hungers and thirsts.  Once again, they accuse Moses of leading them into the wilderness to die.  Moses realizes that he cannot water and feed this many people, so he complains to God.  These people that You gave me are upset.  How can I water them?  How can I feed them?  Once again, God provides.  He tells Moses that when the dew dries in the mornings, the people are to gather enough of the flaky residue to make bread for the day.  He also warns Moses and tells him to instruct the people not to gather more than they can use in a day.  Naturally, the people of Israel heed God’s instruction and are thrilled with His provision, right?  Nope.

     The people are baffled by this bread of heaven they call manna.  But, it seems to work like flour, so they make bread.  Some people refuse to believe that manna will be there the next day, so they gather more than they need for a day.  What happens to that extra manna?  It gets moldy and wormy.  Again, God has provided, protected, and instructed, but His people still do not trust Him.  They have all the water and bread they need, but are they happy?

     If only we were still sitting by our fleshpots.  There we had stews with vegetables and meats.  That was the good old days.  That quickly they have forgotten that the fleshpots were there for minimally nourishing them so they could build Pharaoh’s building, work Pharaoh’s lands, and serve their masters as they were instructed.  In short, the fleshpots were a reminder of their slavery.  How quickly they have forgotten!  They, the people who had cried their wholes lives to be free, now preferred slavery at the hand of Egypt to the freedom at the hand of Yahweh.

     It is no small wonder that God threatens to start all over with Moses sometimes.  I know I would be beyond wrathful.  But God acts amazingly once again.  In the evenings, he drives flocks of quail into the camp of the Israelites.  Those of us living in 21^st century Brentwood cannot understand the rarity of meat in these days.  We can buy steaks or chicken or seafood any day we want it, but meat was reserved for the truly wealthy in the ANE.  If one ate meat more than a couple times a year, the one was either in a rich family or had quite a hunter among one’s ranks.  That scarcity of meat is what makes Scripture’s description of Israel’s condition incredible and ironic.  They had so much quail that the meat was coming out their noses.  They were just getting a few bites.  They were literally stuffed with bird.  Imagine.  Every night they were as full as you and I on Thanksgiving day.  God provided, and did so abundantly.  Now they get it, right?  Nope.  Israel gets sick of the meat.  Like those of us who get tired of our champagne and caviar, Israel is sick of quail and manna.  They long for the fleshpots.  They long for the normal bread baked in the ovens or the sun.  They long for the wonderfully stale Egyptian beer.  Far more complain bitterly, we are told, than give thanks and praise to God who is keeping His promises to Abraham & Sarah.

     It is not surprising, perhaps, that Israel must spend a generation wandering in the wilderness.  The slaves must die out before the people of God can enter the Promised Land.  It may sound harsh to our ears, but think of their response in the face of God’s provision and protection.  At every moment, the slaves return to the comfort of what they know rather than face the newness of the unknown freedom.  Even in spite of all of God’s actions before their own eyes, they would prefer to languish in servitude.  Slavery, for them, has become like Linus’ blanket.  They cling to their disgrace, much like we cling to our own sins.

      Part of the reason I shared that story this morning was to get us all thinking how we relate to slaves in Scripture.  God often uses slavery as a metaphor to our relationship to sin.  There’s a reason that Christians generally lead the fights for freedom; we understand how each of us is chained to our own sins or to the consequences of our own sins.  Some of us aspire to be better, but we do not know how to change.  Some of us long to be forgiven, but we wonder if it is even possible.  Some of us become so comfortable with our own sins that we begin to think that Jesus winks at ours while wagging the stern finger at the sins of others.  In truth, we are very much all like Israel, we are all very much like Crystal.  In fact, at one point or another, most of us were exactly like Crystal, never daring to dream, never daring to consider that we could be loved in spite of ourselves.  We all, at one point or another in our lives, were the prodigal son or prodigal father, working with the pigs.  If people knew me, they’d never let me hang out at Advent.  If Brian really knew me, he’d never make that claim that Jesus really loves me.

     But a curious thing happened along the way.  At some point, the Loving Father reached into your life, and your life, and your life, and my life.  At some point, the Father reached into our lives and asked us to trust Him.  He wanted to lead us into perfect freedom.  Perhaps, in a season of self-examination, we thought ourselves too unworthy of such glory.  Perhaps, cognizant of the harm we had done others through our sins of commission and omission, we realized that we did not deserve such a relationship with Him.  We deserved to be slaves because we had done bad things, horrible things, things that we desperately try and keep secret, things we don’t want anyone else to know.  Yet God knew even those secret sins, and still He reached out for us.  God knew the consequences and harms of all those sins, and still He offered us that embrace of love.

     Time and time again in our lives, just as He did in the lives of the Israelites, He protected us, provided for us, comforted us, cared for us, and loved us.  All He asked for was our trust.  And we who know so much balked at the idea that He could possible want us to follow Him and to trust Him.  Brothers and sisters, the shame of Israel is the same as the shame you and I often carry.  Far too often you and I would rather go back into our slavery, because we know what to expect, than we want to serve Him in perfect freedom.  We choose the chains when He offers us the robe and ring of an heir.  We so often choose shame and its consequence, death, when each of us ought to be grasping, yearning for, stretching towards the life that He offers.

     Is there a consequence of our sin?  Absolutely.  In those self-evaluations you and I rightly realize that we are not worthy to be called His son or His daughter.  In truth we have each dishonored Him, besmirched His name, and acted like hypocrites.  But like Israel, our shame has been rolled away!  That shame which you and I deserved for our love of sin and distrust of our Lord, was rolled away on Easter morning.  He who knew no sin became sin.  When we could not free ourselves, when we could not remove the stain, our Lord came down from heaven and bore all that for us.  And that first Easter morning He demonstrated His power and why we should trust and glory in Him when He rolled away that stone on His tomb!  We who did not deserve our Father’s love, were shown once and for all the love He has for each one of us, and the power He has to redeem each and every one of us, and each and every one of those whom we meet in our daily lives and work!  Like Crystal, we can dare to dream.  Like her, we can dare to hope.  Like her, we can give thanks and approach that altar as one who was starving and dying of thirst in the wilderness, and feast abundantly on His love, His care, and His provision for us.  Far more amazingly, as Paul reminds us this morning, once nourished, we are instructed to head back out into the wildernesses of the world and the lives of others, sharing that hope, sharing that love, that our Lord would give to each one He has created, prying them from the fleshpots of their lives and into the arms of their loving Father and Savior.

Peace,

Brian†