April 25, 2010
Easter 4
Acts 9:36-43
John 10:22-30
(prayer)
[slide]
“A married couple was in a car when the wife turned to her husband and asked, "Would you like to stop for a coffee?" [slide]
"No, thanks," he answered truthfully. [slide] So they didn't stop.
The result? [slide] The wife, who had indeed wanted to stop, became annoyed because she felt her preference had not been considered. The husband, seeing his wife was angry, became frustrated. Why didn't she just say what she wanted?
Unfortunately, he failed to see that his wife was asking the question not to get an instant decision, but to begin a negotiation. And the woman didn't realize that when her husband said no, he was just expressing his preference, not making a ruling. [slide] When a man and woman interpret the same interchange in such conflicting ways, it's no wonder they can find themselves leveling angry charges of selfishness and obstinacy at each other.”
//
That is a quote from Deborah Tannen’s book “You Just Don’t Understand: Women and Men in Conversation”. [slide] Patti suggested I read it about 16 years ago.
We’ve been married fifteen-and-a-half years now. I found it very enlightening. My only regret has been that Patti has never read it herself!
//
//
Some of us like direct, fact-based conversations. Some of us like to couch ideas it metaphor and image. [slide] Some of us are reluctant to share what we might really think and feel – for a number of different reasons for different people. Some of us converse to relay information; some of us converse for the experience of connecting through conversation.
Deborah Tannen calls this the difference between report [slide] and rapport [slide]. She would designate one preference as more typically male and the other more typically female. You can probably figure out who is who. ... Okay, I’ll just tell you.
I’m a guy – we report [slide].
Gals, you’re all about the rapport [slide].
//
Now, anytime we try to pigeon-hole a characteristic with one type of person, we run into to the inevitable variances and the reality that each of us has aspects of many styles. I know that for me, I often exhibit styles of communication that are not typical for what might be expected for a person of my age or gendre or vocation. It’s not always crystal clear. [slide]
//
//
24So the people gathered around Jesus and said to him, ‘How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.’
//
“My broker is EF Hutton and EF Hutton says...” remember that commercial?
//
A hush must have fallen over the crowd when Jesus was challenged with that question. It would have been nice if he had just given a straight answer.
//
25Jesus answered, ‘I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me.
In other words, “I’ve been answering that question all along, but you haven’t been paying attention”. Jesus went on to say: 26’but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep’. It seems to be a circular argument. If they belonged to “his sheep”, they would believe, but how would they go about belonging to this flock? Probably ... by believing.
Maybe the message is even more basic than that.
Maybe being the Messiah has more to do with actions and relationships than with words and pronouncements.
Think about that!
//
//
When I was nine years old, my parents sent me to camp for the first time. I had gone out to Camp Maskepetoon on Pigeon Lake for a weekend in the spring of that year with my Sunday School class and I must have seemed to have enjoyed the setting so I guess my parents figured it would be worth trying a week in the summer.
And that began a relationship with a place and a style of spirituality and a group of people which has spanned 38 years and counting [yes, I had a birthday recently and I am 47].
My “Christian Development” through camping was not one of instant conversion, but of steady growth through experience and relationships with others in that particular setting.
I followed the examples and mentorship of others. And over time I know I became an example and mentor to still others.
The “camp” style of worship and spirituality was very music and story based; drama and creative interpretations of biblical lessons and themes was common place.
As a camper, as a teenage volunteer counsellor, as a young adult staff person and now as a parent of campers – I have been given opportunities to experience the Spirit of God in various ways and through many spiritual disciplines in the church camp setting.
Camp was my key learning ground on the guitar. I’d have someone show me a new chord; then I would situate myself at the evening campfire where I could see the other guitarists’ fingers and I would do my best to keep up.
Looking back, I see that experience of learning on the fly as a microcosm for Christian Development in general. We are teachers and we are learners – we move and grow at different rates and with different results based on the gifts and skills we possess or develop. At camp, as a rookie guitarist, I was not told to leave my guitar up in the lounge until I was good enough; I was slower on the changes, I probably couldn’t have done much song leading that first guitar summer. I was given the space and opportunity to learn from others who had been my way before. I was supported, helped to catch up as I could. I was given room to grow. I was not judged as better or worse, nor was I restricted from being involved until I’d met some standard of quality. I was accepted for who I was – my involvement was based on my yearnings and desires, not some expectation set for me from outside myself.
This is also my vision for the “church”.
//
Finding a connection to God is not about words, but about the experience of relationship. Jesus couldn’t claim messiahship with words – it had to be lived out. For people to believe that God and Jesus were one, they had to see God active in Jesus. It wasn’t enough just to talk about it. “The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me.”
//
Yesterday and Friday I was at a meeting of the Yellowhead Presbytery. Within the United Church structure, a presbytery is the regional gathering of United Church ministers and congregational reps. Leduc is part of Yellowhead Presbytery.
As part of the opening worship yesterday, we sat in a circle (or as close to a circle as you can get 50-60 people when you push all the pews aside in the Devon United Church (where we were meeting). After a hymn, a bible reading and a bit of a mini-sermon by the chair of the presbytery, we went around the circle and each took a turn saying something. It was valuable to hear the variety of voices and the insights of so many people with varying degrees of experience in their local churches and in the presbytery.
But … it took well over an hour for us just to go around the circle. Then there was another mini-reflection and a couple of more hymns. Sure there were 50-60 different perspectives, but it for the most part it was just words to be listened to.
Now, I’m trying not to come across overly judgemental, it was what it was because that is what it was. But I am sure that, as valuable as each voice was, I’m not the only one who found that the nice comfortable padded chair was not as comfortable as it was an hour earlier. I was in need of action to match the words. Thank God, we sand "Dance With the Spirit"!
//
Words are good. Conversation is even better. But actions and experience must be part the mix as well. And I'm not really talking about formal worship times. I'm talking about LIFE.
//
When Peter and the other disciples of Jesus began to share the good news of Christ in the weeks and months and years after the resurrection, they share more than words. They shared experiences – they fostered relationships.
Consider the story read from Acts, chapter 9 today. A few verses earlier (verse 32) it simply says that: 32… Peter went here and there among all the believers. Notice: it’s about the connections, the relationships. Peter was in Lydda (a town on the road between Jerusalem and the Mediterranean Sea).
In today’s reading, Peter was called away from Lydda to go to Joppa, which was the fishing village on the coast (modern Tel Aviv). In Joppa there was a disciple named Tabitha (Aramaic), also known as Dorcas (Greek) – both words mean gazelle. We can infer from the story that she worked tirelessly among the widows in Joppa. The Hebrew Torah is filled with instructions for how the society is to care for the vulnerable ones among the people: primarily the widows, orphans and refugees. In the Sunday School background materials for today, it suggests that the “frequency of these urgings suggests that such mandates were not always headed.” Tabitha was a gifted weaver and seamstress; she provided clothing to people in need. While doing so, she wove not only cloth, but she wove a community of compassionate action.
Tabitha had become ill and died. Peter was summoned. Were they looking for advice on how to carry on without Tabitha, this remarkably compassionate disciple? Did they expect the resurrection that followed Peter’s arrival – maybe? Jesus had done it (a couple of times at least) and Peter and the others were said to have done other things that Jesus had done that were considered miraculous. {In fact, a few verses earlier, while Peter was in Lydda, there is an account of him helping a paralyzed man walk again.}
In language that probably makes an intentional reference to a raising of a little girl by Jesus, when he said “talitha cum” (little girl, get up), Peter might have used the Aramaic words “Tabitha cum” (Tabitha, get up).
The symbolic message in this and other similar passages is that the disciples continue to follow Jesus’ example and to live out his mission even after Jesus was no longer among them in the flesh.
The early church grew on the strength of actions of compassion and support and healing of bodies and souls.
//
As I said a couple of weeks ago, I don’t want us to get too hung up on the miracle, but focus on the meaning. If these miraculous acts are seen only as proof of the Spirit of Christ being with the disciples, we are forced to ask: Is the spirit absent in our lives, because these kinds of experiences are very rare indeed?
But if we see beyond a literal reading of these stories, we find a meaning which envelops mystery, compassion, love and relationship. These fishing widows were loved by Tabitha. Their husbands, their supports, were likely lost at seas. Tabitha offered loving support to these women. She did not only hear the words of the Torah, she lived them. Tabitha lived an active love; she didn’t just talk about it.
Now, in the mystery of God, Peter was somehow able to physicalize a returning of that loving relationship. Tabitha was resuscitated to weave another day.
//
I’m going to try and report this as plainly as I am able …
Jesus is the anointed one of God (The Messiah, The Christ) because of what he did and what his followers do. Learners of Jesus’ Way (i.e. disciples - those who follow the lessons, the disciplines, of Jesus) of every time and place are called to witness to Christ’s comforting and protective love through their compassionate words and deeds.
We don’t just report the good news, we establish rapport in the good news. It’s about faith in action: Changing lives. That doesn’t necessarily mean, healings and resuscitations. But it does mean changing lives by insisting that love and compassion be part of everyone‘s experience.
We are to make a difference.
That’s what I think the voice of the good shepherd is saying to the church: Go make a difference.
In fact, I’m going to suggest we change the next hymn. Instead of “Deep in Our Hearts”, let’s sing #209: still in More Voices “Go Make a Difference” [slide]
May God always call us with those words!
#209MV “Go Make a Difference”
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
MEANINGFUL ENCOUNTERS
April 18, 2010
Easter 3
Acts 9:1-6
John 21:15-17
(prayer)
A few weeks ago, I took a van load of 12 year olds to go see the Canadian pop band, Hedley, in concert. (yeah) Actually, I had a great time: the music was quite good, the show was fun and I had several opportunities to enjoy it on a sarcastic level: like when Jacob Hoggard started playing “Perfect” at the piano and every cell phone camera in the room came out – I was able to go (fast, excited clapping).
The first hit off the new album is call Cha-Ching – a funny, somewhat irreverent take on the reality TV phenomenon: It’s the all-American dream is getting fifteen for free. I wonder how many of the pre-teeny boppers get the Andy Warhol reference that “everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes”.
//
So have you had your fifteen yet?
//
Or how about this, have you had a memorable brush with greatness – ever meet anyone famous? [I mean someone who’s had at least 16 minutes!]
Does it stand out in your memory? Why do you think that is?
//
Fame aside, think about the real meaningful encounters of your life – who have they been with? Mentors, teachers, chance meetings that lead to long friendships, even love?
What makes those times meaningful for you and what kind of impact did they have in your life?
//
//
The Season of Easter in the church year is seven weeks long (leading from Easter Sunday to Pentecost Sunday). Today is the Third Sunday of Easter and the last time the lectionary has us reading about appearances of the Risen Christ.
After today, we move into the era of the church, living and ministering in the shadow the resurrection. The two key figures of the story of those first decades of the Christian Church are Simon Peter and Saul (or Paul) of Tarsus. Today, we heard stories of meaningful encounters each of them had with the resurrected Jesus.
//
First: Peter. Simon, by all accounts, was one of Jesus very first disciples. A fisherman by trade, he quickly became such a steady and reliable follower that Jesus knew that Simon was someone he could really count on. Jesus nicknamed Simon, Cephas (Aramaic for “rock”). In the Greek language of the New Testament, the nickname is written as Petros, which is the root of the English name: Peter.
Simon Peter was often mentioned as being among Jesus close inner circle, along with James and John. Several Gospel stories have Jesus being off alone with just these three.
Sadly, Peter is also remembered as the one who denied Jesus three times. Mark, Matthew and Luke all tell the story of Peter declaring his loyalty to Jesus at the Last Supper: “even though they all fall away, I will never fall away” (Mt, Mk); “I am ready to go to prison and death” (Lk). Jesus replies, “Before the cock crows, you will deny me three times!”
All three Synoptic Gospels tell the second part of the story a little later: You were with Jesus of Nazareth. No. You are one of them. No. But your accent is Galilean, you must know him. No (cock-a-doodle-doo).
And Peter remembered and wept.
//
For those who have been in church the last couple of weeks, we have been reading through the last chapters of the gospel of John: Easter morning Mary Magdalene discovered the empty tomb and met the risen Jesus, whom she had first assumed was a gardener. She was the first Christian evangelist as she ran back to the others telling them “I have seen the Lord!”
Last week, we heard about the two visits to the disciples behind locked doors a week apart, culminating with Jesus telling Thomas, blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.
This morning, I only read a few verses of the next section. What I skipped was a story that other gospels include earlier in their narratives: a miraculous catch of fish.
A bit of time must have passed since Jesus visited the disciples behind the locked doors and showed Thomas his crucifixion wounds. The setting has changed. The disciples are back in Galilee, by the central lake of the region. John tells us that it was Peter who suggested going fishing. Sometimes this is read as Peter basically closing the book on his discipleship. Jesus is gone. Risen, but still gone. Peter was going back to his old job: it was time for him to try and catch fish again instead of catching people.
I guess he had sort of lost his touch because the night came and went and no fish. It must have been a hot night; Peter was lying naked, resting after a lot of hard work for nothing. Then they heard a stranger on the shore shouting that they should cast the nets again. They do and the nets were filled beyond capacity. Peter realized that it was Jesus on the shore (“It is the Lord!”), he put on some clothes and swam the 150 yards to the sand.
And they all shared a nice breakfast of fresh fish cooked over a morning fire.
After breakfast (and here’s where we picked up the story today), Jesus asks Peter: Simon, son of John do you love me? Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Feed my lambs. Again: Simon, son of John do you love me? Again: Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Jesus answer slightly different: Tend my sheep. A third question: Simon, son of John do you love me? John tells us that Peter was upset by this third question. Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. Feed my sheep.
There is a lot in those three verses.
First, most biblical scholars make the point that the three questions about love are an intentional parallel to Peter’s three denials. It was as if this was Jesus’ way of allowing Peter to even things out.
But there is much more here than the same question asked three times. Because that’s not really what happens. We don’t see in the English translation, but there are Two Greek words for love are used in this passage – each having a level of commitment that is unique:
1. [slide] phillos - is family love, brotherly love à la Philadelphia; and
2. [slide] agape - unconditional love, the same word used in 1st Corinthians 13: these three remain, faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love.
//
So listen again to the conversation as I make it clear which love is used. [slides-words]
(1) Simon, son of John do you love me unconditionally?
Yes, Lord, you know that I love you like a brother.
Feed my lambs.
(2) Simon, son of John do you love me unconditionally?
Yes, Lord, you know that I love you like a brother.
Tend my sheep.
(3) Simon, son of John do you love me like a brother?
(Peter upset) Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you like a brother.
Feed my sheep.
//
Clearly, the word play here is significant. I’m not sure I know exactly what it means. Was Peter upset because Jesus kept asking for his loyalty. Or was it that Peter couldn’t seem to love to the degree that Jesus loves. Or was he upset because Jesus lowered his expectations of Peter.
Any or all of these?
//
[slide-sheep]
The subtle differences in Jesus’ instructions are also likely significant. Feed my lambs – perhaps a reference to teaching the gospel to those who would come new into the faith. Tend my Sheep (I love the literal translation: Shepherd these sheep of me) – perhaps a reference to caring for all people who follow Jesus. And finally, Feed my [little] sheep, a different noun than the first instruction (feed my lambs) – perhaps a reference to the desire to continue to teach and grow in faith, no matter how long one has been part of the movement.
All in all, it seems to be a call to respond to a measure of love for Jesus with ... the care of others who loved by Jesus. Whether or not, we are able to love as unconditionally as Jesus hopes, we are still instructed to feed and to tend.
This would turn out to be a most meaningful encounter for Simon Peter; he would go on to be the major person of influence within Judea and Galilee as far as sharing the good news about Jesus to others. It would get him into trouble with the Jerusalem Council of Elders, but he did become the Rock, whom Jesus envisioned.
//
//
As Peter and the others were sharing Jesus’ good news in the cities and towns of Galilee and Judea, some others were concerned that this was a perversion of the people’s faith. There were some like Saul, a Jewish Roman citizen born in what we would call modern Turkey, who was so convinced that these “sheep of Jesus” needed to be stopped, that Saul got official sanction from the Council to arrest any followers of “The Way” (as the Jesus-Movement was apparently called) and bring them bound to Jerusalem. Acts makes the point to say that both men and women were subject to arrest, which says something about the level of concern.
By the accounts in the book of Acts, Saul was very zealous about this task and was quite successful at it.
//
And then, as we read earlier, one day on the road to Damascus, Saul had a meaningful, but strange, encounter with the Risen Christ.
[slide-light]
A blinding, bright light and a voice: Saul, I am Jesus, why do you persecute me?
Saul couldn’t see, so he had to be guided to the city, where he was so affected by the encounter that he could not eat or drink.
While this was going on, the Risen Christ visited a disciple of The Way named Ananias. Jesus asked him to tend to Saul. Now Ananias knew all about Saul and wondered why Jesus would want anyone to care for this persecutor of the church. Jesus insisted, so Ananias went and prayed with Saul.
Saul regained his sight,
He ate and regained his strength, and
became as zealous of a Proclaimer of Christ as he was a persecutor of Christ’s people.
Saul eventually focused his mission toward the Greek-speaking, non-Jewish world beyond Galilee and Jerusalem. As a symbol of that focus, he began to use the Greek version of his name, Paul, as he spread the good news all throughout the coastal regions of the Mediterranean.
The oldest written records of the early Christians are letters written by Paul to several groups of followers of Jesus’ Way throughout Asia Minor and Southern Europe.
And it all began with a meaningful encounter on the road to Damascus.
//
Peter and Paul were not without their negative histories, and yet they became the two most significant leaders of the early Christian Church.
Their stories are ones of being loved beyond their shortcomings and being entrusted with the great truths of existence.
//
A couple of weeks ago, I got to hear Hedley sing:
I’m not perfect, but I keep trying.
‘Cause that’s what I said I would so from the start.
I’m not alive, if I’m lonely, so please don’t leave.
Was it something I said or just my personality?
When our human relationships get strained and sometimes even end, we can hold on to the reasons behind the struggle. We carry the burden of the pain much longer than we are able to remember the good times and happy moments.
// end //
The meaning behind both Peter’s and Paul’s encounters with the Risen Christ is that, in Christ we are a new creation, everything old has passed away, everything has become new (cf 2nd Corinthians 5:17).
God does not hold on to our mistakes, our shortcomings, our problems. In God’s eyes we are the blank canvas.
I believe that God’s Spirit meets us where we are, who we are. And I think that God is fine with that.
As the hymn we’ll sing in a moment says, we are forgiven, loved and free ... we’ll go with joy, to give the world the love that makes us one.
Do we love?
Well, if so, in the meaningful encounters of our lives, we can feed and tend, and allow others to feed and tend us. Thanks be to God!
>> prayer >>
Let us pray,
Show us the way forward, Risen Christ. Journey with us as we are becoming faithful witnesses to your wise and transforming ways. Amen.
#477VU “I Come With Joy”
Easter 3
Acts 9:1-6
John 21:15-17
(prayer)
A few weeks ago, I took a van load of 12 year olds to go see the Canadian pop band, Hedley, in concert. (yeah) Actually, I had a great time: the music was quite good, the show was fun and I had several opportunities to enjoy it on a sarcastic level: like when Jacob Hoggard started playing “Perfect” at the piano and every cell phone camera in the room came out – I was able to go (fast, excited clapping).
The first hit off the new album is call Cha-Ching – a funny, somewhat irreverent take on the reality TV phenomenon: It’s the all-American dream is getting fifteen for free. I wonder how many of the pre-teeny boppers get the Andy Warhol reference that “everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes”.
//
So have you had your fifteen yet?
//
Or how about this, have you had a memorable brush with greatness – ever meet anyone famous? [I mean someone who’s had at least 16 minutes!]
Does it stand out in your memory? Why do you think that is?
//
Fame aside, think about the real meaningful encounters of your life – who have they been with? Mentors, teachers, chance meetings that lead to long friendships, even love?
What makes those times meaningful for you and what kind of impact did they have in your life?
//
//
The Season of Easter in the church year is seven weeks long (leading from Easter Sunday to Pentecost Sunday). Today is the Third Sunday of Easter and the last time the lectionary has us reading about appearances of the Risen Christ.
After today, we move into the era of the church, living and ministering in the shadow the resurrection. The two key figures of the story of those first decades of the Christian Church are Simon Peter and Saul (or Paul) of Tarsus. Today, we heard stories of meaningful encounters each of them had with the resurrected Jesus.
//
First: Peter. Simon, by all accounts, was one of Jesus very first disciples. A fisherman by trade, he quickly became such a steady and reliable follower that Jesus knew that Simon was someone he could really count on. Jesus nicknamed Simon, Cephas (Aramaic for “rock”). In the Greek language of the New Testament, the nickname is written as Petros, which is the root of the English name: Peter.
Simon Peter was often mentioned as being among Jesus close inner circle, along with James and John. Several Gospel stories have Jesus being off alone with just these three.
Sadly, Peter is also remembered as the one who denied Jesus three times. Mark, Matthew and Luke all tell the story of Peter declaring his loyalty to Jesus at the Last Supper: “even though they all fall away, I will never fall away” (Mt, Mk); “I am ready to go to prison and death” (Lk). Jesus replies, “Before the cock crows, you will deny me three times!”
All three Synoptic Gospels tell the second part of the story a little later: You were with Jesus of Nazareth. No. You are one of them. No. But your accent is Galilean, you must know him. No (cock-a-doodle-doo).
And Peter remembered and wept.
//
For those who have been in church the last couple of weeks, we have been reading through the last chapters of the gospel of John: Easter morning Mary Magdalene discovered the empty tomb and met the risen Jesus, whom she had first assumed was a gardener. She was the first Christian evangelist as she ran back to the others telling them “I have seen the Lord!”
Last week, we heard about the two visits to the disciples behind locked doors a week apart, culminating with Jesus telling Thomas, blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.
This morning, I only read a few verses of the next section. What I skipped was a story that other gospels include earlier in their narratives: a miraculous catch of fish.
A bit of time must have passed since Jesus visited the disciples behind the locked doors and showed Thomas his crucifixion wounds. The setting has changed. The disciples are back in Galilee, by the central lake of the region. John tells us that it was Peter who suggested going fishing. Sometimes this is read as Peter basically closing the book on his discipleship. Jesus is gone. Risen, but still gone. Peter was going back to his old job: it was time for him to try and catch fish again instead of catching people.
I guess he had sort of lost his touch because the night came and went and no fish. It must have been a hot night; Peter was lying naked, resting after a lot of hard work for nothing. Then they heard a stranger on the shore shouting that they should cast the nets again. They do and the nets were filled beyond capacity. Peter realized that it was Jesus on the shore (“It is the Lord!”), he put on some clothes and swam the 150 yards to the sand.
And they all shared a nice breakfast of fresh fish cooked over a morning fire.
After breakfast (and here’s where we picked up the story today), Jesus asks Peter: Simon, son of John do you love me? Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Feed my lambs. Again: Simon, son of John do you love me? Again: Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Jesus answer slightly different: Tend my sheep. A third question: Simon, son of John do you love me? John tells us that Peter was upset by this third question. Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. Feed my sheep.
There is a lot in those three verses.
First, most biblical scholars make the point that the three questions about love are an intentional parallel to Peter’s three denials. It was as if this was Jesus’ way of allowing Peter to even things out.
But there is much more here than the same question asked three times. Because that’s not really what happens. We don’t see in the English translation, but there are Two Greek words for love are used in this passage – each having a level of commitment that is unique:
1. [slide] phillos - is family love, brotherly love à la Philadelphia; and
2. [slide] agape - unconditional love, the same word used in 1st Corinthians 13: these three remain, faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love.
//
So listen again to the conversation as I make it clear which love is used. [slides-words]
(1) Simon, son of John do you love me unconditionally?
Yes, Lord, you know that I love you like a brother.
Feed my lambs.
(2) Simon, son of John do you love me unconditionally?
Yes, Lord, you know that I love you like a brother.
Tend my sheep.
(3) Simon, son of John do you love me like a brother?
(Peter upset) Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you like a brother.
Feed my sheep.
//
Clearly, the word play here is significant. I’m not sure I know exactly what it means. Was Peter upset because Jesus kept asking for his loyalty. Or was it that Peter couldn’t seem to love to the degree that Jesus loves. Or was he upset because Jesus lowered his expectations of Peter.
Any or all of these?
//
[slide-sheep]
The subtle differences in Jesus’ instructions are also likely significant. Feed my lambs – perhaps a reference to teaching the gospel to those who would come new into the faith. Tend my Sheep (I love the literal translation: Shepherd these sheep of me) – perhaps a reference to caring for all people who follow Jesus. And finally, Feed my [little] sheep, a different noun than the first instruction (feed my lambs) – perhaps a reference to the desire to continue to teach and grow in faith, no matter how long one has been part of the movement.
All in all, it seems to be a call to respond to a measure of love for Jesus with ... the care of others who loved by Jesus. Whether or not, we are able to love as unconditionally as Jesus hopes, we are still instructed to feed and to tend.
This would turn out to be a most meaningful encounter for Simon Peter; he would go on to be the major person of influence within Judea and Galilee as far as sharing the good news about Jesus to others. It would get him into trouble with the Jerusalem Council of Elders, but he did become the Rock, whom Jesus envisioned.
//
//
As Peter and the others were sharing Jesus’ good news in the cities and towns of Galilee and Judea, some others were concerned that this was a perversion of the people’s faith. There were some like Saul, a Jewish Roman citizen born in what we would call modern Turkey, who was so convinced that these “sheep of Jesus” needed to be stopped, that Saul got official sanction from the Council to arrest any followers of “The Way” (as the Jesus-Movement was apparently called) and bring them bound to Jerusalem. Acts makes the point to say that both men and women were subject to arrest, which says something about the level of concern.
By the accounts in the book of Acts, Saul was very zealous about this task and was quite successful at it.
//
And then, as we read earlier, one day on the road to Damascus, Saul had a meaningful, but strange, encounter with the Risen Christ.
[slide-light]
A blinding, bright light and a voice: Saul, I am Jesus, why do you persecute me?
Saul couldn’t see, so he had to be guided to the city, where he was so affected by the encounter that he could not eat or drink.
While this was going on, the Risen Christ visited a disciple of The Way named Ananias. Jesus asked him to tend to Saul. Now Ananias knew all about Saul and wondered why Jesus would want anyone to care for this persecutor of the church. Jesus insisted, so Ananias went and prayed with Saul.
Saul regained his sight,
He ate and regained his strength, and
became as zealous of a Proclaimer of Christ as he was a persecutor of Christ’s people.
Saul eventually focused his mission toward the Greek-speaking, non-Jewish world beyond Galilee and Jerusalem. As a symbol of that focus, he began to use the Greek version of his name, Paul, as he spread the good news all throughout the coastal regions of the Mediterranean.
The oldest written records of the early Christians are letters written by Paul to several groups of followers of Jesus’ Way throughout Asia Minor and Southern Europe.
And it all began with a meaningful encounter on the road to Damascus.
//
Peter and Paul were not without their negative histories, and yet they became the two most significant leaders of the early Christian Church.
Their stories are ones of being loved beyond their shortcomings and being entrusted with the great truths of existence.
//
A couple of weeks ago, I got to hear Hedley sing:
I’m not perfect, but I keep trying.
‘Cause that’s what I said I would so from the start.
I’m not alive, if I’m lonely, so please don’t leave.
Was it something I said or just my personality?
When our human relationships get strained and sometimes even end, we can hold on to the reasons behind the struggle. We carry the burden of the pain much longer than we are able to remember the good times and happy moments.
// end //
The meaning behind both Peter’s and Paul’s encounters with the Risen Christ is that, in Christ we are a new creation, everything old has passed away, everything has become new (cf 2nd Corinthians 5:17).
God does not hold on to our mistakes, our shortcomings, our problems. In God’s eyes we are the blank canvas.
I believe that God’s Spirit meets us where we are, who we are. And I think that God is fine with that.
As the hymn we’ll sing in a moment says, we are forgiven, loved and free ... we’ll go with joy, to give the world the love that makes us one.
Do we love?
Well, if so, in the meaningful encounters of our lives, we can feed and tend, and allow others to feed and tend us. Thanks be to God!
>> prayer >>
Let us pray,
Show us the way forward, Risen Christ. Journey with us as we are becoming faithful witnesses to your wise and transforming ways. Amen.
#477VU “I Come With Joy”
Sunday, April 11, 2010
LOCKED DOORS
April 11, 2010
Easter 2
Psalm 150
John 20:19-31
(prayer)
In a little over a month, I will be off on a week of Study Leave as I and Patti attend a retreat. It is so seldom that I get to have Patti come along on these kinds of trips. That’ll be nice ... and the event will be a nice follow-up to my sabbatical last year. It will give me a real opportunity to focus on and practice the connection between spirituality, music and life-and-social action as part of the modern church.
This past week, I got an email from the retreat organizer, who said that they were planning on adding to the optional Saturday afternoon activities: the opportunity to swing hammers at a local Habitat for Humanity project. Patti and I jumped at the chance to sign up for that.
Now this will be in Hendersonville, NC, which is a fair ways from St. Albert, but Habitat for Humanity was under fire in that city to the north recently. Did you hear that story in the news?
I know that the authors of the letter to editor of the St Albert Gazette have since apologized for the “way [they] came across”, even admitting it was “terrible”, but I think that the sentiment expressed in the original letter is still worth some attention.
Long story short if you missed it, the authors felt that the higher standing of living in St. Albert meant that Habitat did not belong there. The letter quite strongly implied that if someone couldn’t to afford to live there, they didn’t deserve to live there. It went on to mention the expected (but hard to listen to) comments about increased crime that surely comes with low cost housing and the evils of lower property values for those who don’t need social housing. Yada, yada, yada ... N.I.M.B.Y. ... yada, yada
Some people are afraid to live in the midst of diversity. Aren’t they? Well, welcome to the 21st century. Greater access to travel and communication have made this a very small world indeed. Building walls and gates to create artificial zones of unity and isolation are some people’s attempts to ignore the reality that we are a more diverse human family than some want to admit or deal with.
//
Every once and a while I hear someone say something like: “soon, the minorities will be the majority.” Content aside, from a pure syntax point of view, it’s a silly statement. But regardless, that’s just natures predilection for balance.
Truth be known – none of the six basic skin colour races has the majority. Sure in many local contexts the numbers vary and the language of majority and minority might be accurate. But on a global scale (and with easier travel, movement and settlement on increasing numbers of local scales) we are all minorities. Only people with a fear of diversity worry about such things.
//
In a completely un-related example, I caught a clip from the Ellen DeGeneres show on YouTube a couple of days ago. Well a picture paints a thousand words, let’s take a look ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IK1q_Y3G1EM
Wow!
//
For me, these are current examples of how fear or mistrust can sometimes have an effect on how a person looks at the world.
//
Fear is miserable emotion. Anyone who has had the misfortune of being genuinely, really scared can attest to that. And most of us I am sure have had at least a small taste of fear sometime in our lives.
[Fear is not necessarily bad. In fact, fear is often a very helpful emotion – it can keep us safe, it can slow us down when we need it; it can move us in new directions. But in certain circumstances it can paralyze us so that we get stuck.]
//
Does anyone remember the scene from Michael Moore’s Oscar-winning documentary “Bowling for Columbine”? There was a scene where Michael Moore was in the Toronto-area and found a number of people who hadn’t locked their doors. He just walked into their homes. Moore’s point was to try and contrast that with what he was portraying as the excessive fear that exists in the lives of Americans. Those scenes were widely criticized as a bit mis-leading. It’s not like Canada is a country free of fear.
//
Now, I’ll admit it, I don’t always lock my house door, especially when I’m home. [decided to keep it in] But there are times when I am very careful to make sure the house is locked: when we are away and at night ... and (almost always) I lock my car doors (even when, on occasion, my keys have still been in it and sometimes even when the engine was still running).
//
Deep Fear is paralyzing. It forces us to focus on absolutely nothing else but our extreme short term well-being and safety. Nothing else matters.
Without fear, the same person might have a vast array of things that are important to them, but when gripped by fear, all of that is set aside.
//
Now, the main character in today’s familiar gospel reading is Thomas. What’s his nickname? {The Twin; Doubting Thomas!} I would suggest that the singled out nickname is inappropriate, first of all, because all of the disciples had the same doubts after Mary told them that she had seen the lord, three days after the crucifixion. But furthermore, the descriptor would be better if it was Fearful Thomas (and Fearful Peter and John ...). It was their fear that kept them behind locked doors, not their doubt.
//
We often assume that doubt is the opposite of faith. And by dictionary definition, it might be true. But over and over again in the Bible when faith is contrasted, it is with “fear” not doubt. Faith v Fear is much more common that Faith v Doubt.
Several times in the story of Abraham and his family, God reassures them with words like “Fear not, for I am with you, or Fear not, I will provide or Don’t be afraid, I have heard you or Have no fear, I am your shield.” (cf. Gen 15:1; 21:17; 26:24; 50:21)
One memorable line in the 23rd Psalm (v4) is: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you [God] are with me.”
Think of the disciples in the boat with Jesus during a storm. After Jesus calmed the waters with a word of peace, he turns to the others in the boat and says: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith.” (Mk 4:40)
And in perhaps the most famous double story in the gospels (a so-called Marken Sandwich because it has one story in the middle of another), Jesus is called to come help the daughter of a synagogue leader named Jairus: his daughter is dying. (cf: Mk 5:21-43)
On the way see to the girl, Jesus is touched by someone in the crowd, a woman, who has had a menstrual bleeding problem for a dozen years (coincidently the same length of time that the little girl has been alive – she’s 12 years old). Against all fear of retribution and social protocol, the woman reaches out to Jesus and discovers that she is healed. The crowd is horrified, Jesus touched a women during her cycle, now he is ritually unclean and he is going to visit with the Synagogue leader’s family? The crowd is understandable upset at the woman. Jesus has a different point of view, he tells the woman, “Your faith has made you well; go in peace”.
This delay along the road was costly, however, and the little girl died before Jesus got to her. Responding to the grief of the father, Jesus says, “Do not fear, only believe!” Jesus and the parents go into the child’s room and the next thing anyone knew, they little girl was up, alive and well, eating some lunch.
Okay, that’s enough proof-texting for one day. But I still think it is true that it is fear (more than doubt) that hinders faith.
This may be a case of diction-semantics to some degree, but I think it can helpful in focusing how we might approach a desire to encounter our spiritual sides. If we focus on doubts, we look for proof and evidence. If we acknowledge our fears, we look for what is blocking us. We look for ways to deal with those road blocks or we seek new paths. Here’s where fear and doubt overlap a bit: for some of us, those blocks may be the lack of concrete evidence.
Unfortunately for us, by definition, faith requires a leap beyond what is provable. That’s what the word means; that’s what “faith” means. If spirituality was crystal clear and completely objective, there would be no need for faith.
Faith involves a lot of subjectivity; or, as Jim Wallis likes to put it, faith is believing - in spite of the evidence.
Subjectivity naturally results in diversity in peoples’ spiritualities. Sit any two “people of faith” beside each other (even from within the same religious group) and have any conversation about what beliefs they hold dear and how they enjoy living out their spirituality and you’ll find diversity. Sometime subtle, often quite striking.
Let’s try that: if you are game, turn to a person near you and tell them something about:
· What helps you feel closer to God? ...or...
· When does God seem naturally near for you?
You have about a minute, go!
//
//
So, is everyone saying the same thing? If you were able to listen to all of the conversations, do you think we would have only one answer? If we involved other Christians from other denominations, would we get one answer? What if we went inter-faith: one answer?
Of course not.
And that is NOT a bad thing.
The 150th Psalm was likely a hymn sung during ancient Hebrew Temple worship services: the common theme is the Praise of God, but notice the variety of how that is done: with trumpets, lutes, harps, tambourines, strings, pipes, cymbals. Praise God with dance. Melody, Rhythm, Harmony, Movement and just plain clanging noise: something I like to call the Chaos of Praise!
That psalm reminds us that the praise of God is an opportunity that for “everything that breathes”. God is the source of life and life praises God!
Diversity need not be a locked door that we hide behind. It only is, if we fear diversity. Or if we somehow fear that our own faith is brought into question, just because someone else “does faith” differently.
//
As a United Church minister, believe me, I have known the experience of having my faith called into to question by others. Given the UCC’s progressive stances on the dignity of all people and the overarching love and opportunities of God reaching out to all, some of my Christian brothers and sisters have (from time to time) “noticed” the differences between how our denominations live out what we believe. Anytime you assume unanimity and find yourself face to face with diversity, it can be a bit shocking, even scary. I think I have mentioned before that, it was actually an agenda item at my very first Leduc Christian Ministerial Meeting ten years ago, whether the United Church qualified as Christian-enough to be part of the local Ministerial (that summer, the UC’s General Council had expressed continued support for equal civil rights for both same sex and opposite sex couples – we weren’t even using marriage language yet). I, intentionally, stayed out of the conversation. I had no desire to begin these new ecumenical relationships by defending myself or my denomination. I needed to learn more than I needed to teach. And so, I listened and let the existing members talk it out. And, as I expected, a diversity of views was the result. I felt very affirmed as a Christian leader and saw opportunities to find value in being involved with this diverse group of pastors.
Obviously, I and my church came out okay. The faces around the table have changes a lot over the past decade as clergy come and go, and I’m still considered “in” (phew!) – I am currently in my third (and mandated last) year as the secretary-treasurer for the local Ministerial Association. I guess being a good administrator is more important than theological-dogmatic differences.
(pray) Thank be to God!
//
//
It was fear, that kept Thomas (and Peter and Mary and Joanna) behind those locked doors after the crucifixion.
We aren’t told why Thomas had stepped out, but he is not able to believe what the others have experienced, because his experience was different. Fear, doubt, grief – a whole jumble of emotions – closed him from finding the spirit of what had happened to the others.
John’s gospel tells us that Thomas got his turn, one week later. It is interesting to note that, for the others, even after a visit from the Risen Christ, a week later they were still behind locked doors. But Thomas was given his proof – look at my hands and feet, touch my wounds. That’s actually kind of unfortunate that Jesus came back a second time, because it supports that notion that empirical proof is necessary to believe. But, by the time the fourth gospel was written, probably some 60 years or so after the first easter – first hand visits from Risen Christ would be the rare stuff of legends. It was obviously not big on Jesus’ post-easter agenda to be going around to every potential Christian throughout the ages and showing off his crucifixion wounds. If Jesus’ message and his model (Way) for living was going to spread, it would be by faith, not proof. And it did.
The gospel writer knew that was the case – it had been the case for some 60 years already: so the final line intentionally included by the gospel writer in the Thomas story is: Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.
I love that phrasing – “have come to believe”. For many of us, faith is a progressive process. It is dynamic: growing (sometimes fast sometimes slowly); it stalls, it even moves backwards sometimes. Faith is a process!
If we are afraid that we are somehow not “doing it right”, because we don’t have everything figured out, maybe, we need to hear that line from John again: have come to believe.
//
// (end)
//
If you came to worship today expecting to be told all of the answers, Sorry. My best hope for you (and for me) is that from time to time, we can un-lock a new door.
Let us pray:
Loving God;
Help us find the path where we can find you.
Amen.
#185VU “You Tell Me That the Lord is Risen”
Easter 2
Psalm 150
John 20:19-31
(prayer)
In a little over a month, I will be off on a week of Study Leave as I and Patti attend a retreat. It is so seldom that I get to have Patti come along on these kinds of trips. That’ll be nice ... and the event will be a nice follow-up to my sabbatical last year. It will give me a real opportunity to focus on and practice the connection between spirituality, music and life-and-social action as part of the modern church.
This past week, I got an email from the retreat organizer, who said that they were planning on adding to the optional Saturday afternoon activities: the opportunity to swing hammers at a local Habitat for Humanity project. Patti and I jumped at the chance to sign up for that.
Now this will be in Hendersonville, NC, which is a fair ways from St. Albert, but Habitat for Humanity was under fire in that city to the north recently. Did you hear that story in the news?
I know that the authors of the letter to editor of the St Albert Gazette have since apologized for the “way [they] came across”, even admitting it was “terrible”, but I think that the sentiment expressed in the original letter is still worth some attention.
Long story short if you missed it, the authors felt that the higher standing of living in St. Albert meant that Habitat did not belong there. The letter quite strongly implied that if someone couldn’t to afford to live there, they didn’t deserve to live there. It went on to mention the expected (but hard to listen to) comments about increased crime that surely comes with low cost housing and the evils of lower property values for those who don’t need social housing. Yada, yada, yada ... N.I.M.B.Y. ... yada, yada
Some people are afraid to live in the midst of diversity. Aren’t they? Well, welcome to the 21st century. Greater access to travel and communication have made this a very small world indeed. Building walls and gates to create artificial zones of unity and isolation are some people’s attempts to ignore the reality that we are a more diverse human family than some want to admit or deal with.
//
Every once and a while I hear someone say something like: “soon, the minorities will be the majority.” Content aside, from a pure syntax point of view, it’s a silly statement. But regardless, that’s just natures predilection for balance.
Truth be known – none of the six basic skin colour races has the majority. Sure in many local contexts the numbers vary and the language of majority and minority might be accurate. But on a global scale (and with easier travel, movement and settlement on increasing numbers of local scales) we are all minorities. Only people with a fear of diversity worry about such things.
//
In a completely un-related example, I caught a clip from the Ellen DeGeneres show on YouTube a couple of days ago. Well a picture paints a thousand words, let’s take a look ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IK1q_Y3G1EM
Wow!
//
For me, these are current examples of how fear or mistrust can sometimes have an effect on how a person looks at the world.
//
Fear is miserable emotion. Anyone who has had the misfortune of being genuinely, really scared can attest to that. And most of us I am sure have had at least a small taste of fear sometime in our lives.
[Fear is not necessarily bad. In fact, fear is often a very helpful emotion – it can keep us safe, it can slow us down when we need it; it can move us in new directions. But in certain circumstances it can paralyze us so that we get stuck.]
//
Does anyone remember the scene from Michael Moore’s Oscar-winning documentary “Bowling for Columbine”? There was a scene where Michael Moore was in the Toronto-area and found a number of people who hadn’t locked their doors. He just walked into their homes. Moore’s point was to try and contrast that with what he was portraying as the excessive fear that exists in the lives of Americans. Those scenes were widely criticized as a bit mis-leading. It’s not like Canada is a country free of fear.
//
Now, I’ll admit it, I don’t always lock my house door, especially when I’m home. [decided to keep it in] But there are times when I am very careful to make sure the house is locked: when we are away and at night ... and (almost always) I lock my car doors (even when, on occasion, my keys have still been in it and sometimes even when the engine was still running).
//
Deep Fear is paralyzing. It forces us to focus on absolutely nothing else but our extreme short term well-being and safety. Nothing else matters.
Without fear, the same person might have a vast array of things that are important to them, but when gripped by fear, all of that is set aside.
//
Now, the main character in today’s familiar gospel reading is Thomas. What’s his nickname? {The Twin; Doubting Thomas!} I would suggest that the singled out nickname is inappropriate, first of all, because all of the disciples had the same doubts after Mary told them that she had seen the lord, three days after the crucifixion. But furthermore, the descriptor would be better if it was Fearful Thomas (and Fearful Peter and John ...). It was their fear that kept them behind locked doors, not their doubt.
//
We often assume that doubt is the opposite of faith. And by dictionary definition, it might be true. But over and over again in the Bible when faith is contrasted, it is with “fear” not doubt. Faith v Fear is much more common that Faith v Doubt.
Several times in the story of Abraham and his family, God reassures them with words like “Fear not, for I am with you, or Fear not, I will provide or Don’t be afraid, I have heard you or Have no fear, I am your shield.” (cf. Gen 15:1; 21:17; 26:24; 50:21)
One memorable line in the 23rd Psalm (v4) is: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you [God] are with me.”
Think of the disciples in the boat with Jesus during a storm. After Jesus calmed the waters with a word of peace, he turns to the others in the boat and says: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith.” (Mk 4:40)
And in perhaps the most famous double story in the gospels (a so-called Marken Sandwich because it has one story in the middle of another), Jesus is called to come help the daughter of a synagogue leader named Jairus: his daughter is dying. (cf: Mk 5:21-43)
On the way see to the girl, Jesus is touched by someone in the crowd, a woman, who has had a menstrual bleeding problem for a dozen years (coincidently the same length of time that the little girl has been alive – she’s 12 years old). Against all fear of retribution and social protocol, the woman reaches out to Jesus and discovers that she is healed. The crowd is horrified, Jesus touched a women during her cycle, now he is ritually unclean and he is going to visit with the Synagogue leader’s family? The crowd is understandable upset at the woman. Jesus has a different point of view, he tells the woman, “Your faith has made you well; go in peace”.
This delay along the road was costly, however, and the little girl died before Jesus got to her. Responding to the grief of the father, Jesus says, “Do not fear, only believe!” Jesus and the parents go into the child’s room and the next thing anyone knew, they little girl was up, alive and well, eating some lunch.
Okay, that’s enough proof-texting for one day. But I still think it is true that it is fear (more than doubt) that hinders faith.
This may be a case of diction-semantics to some degree, but I think it can helpful in focusing how we might approach a desire to encounter our spiritual sides. If we focus on doubts, we look for proof and evidence. If we acknowledge our fears, we look for what is blocking us. We look for ways to deal with those road blocks or we seek new paths. Here’s where fear and doubt overlap a bit: for some of us, those blocks may be the lack of concrete evidence.
Unfortunately for us, by definition, faith requires a leap beyond what is provable. That’s what the word means; that’s what “faith” means. If spirituality was crystal clear and completely objective, there would be no need for faith.
Faith involves a lot of subjectivity; or, as Jim Wallis likes to put it, faith is believing - in spite of the evidence.
Subjectivity naturally results in diversity in peoples’ spiritualities. Sit any two “people of faith” beside each other (even from within the same religious group) and have any conversation about what beliefs they hold dear and how they enjoy living out their spirituality and you’ll find diversity. Sometime subtle, often quite striking.
Let’s try that: if you are game, turn to a person near you and tell them something about:
· What helps you feel closer to God? ...or...
· When does God seem naturally near for you?
You have about a minute, go!
//
//
So, is everyone saying the same thing? If you were able to listen to all of the conversations, do you think we would have only one answer? If we involved other Christians from other denominations, would we get one answer? What if we went inter-faith: one answer?
Of course not.
And that is NOT a bad thing.
The 150th Psalm was likely a hymn sung during ancient Hebrew Temple worship services: the common theme is the Praise of God, but notice the variety of how that is done: with trumpets, lutes, harps, tambourines, strings, pipes, cymbals. Praise God with dance. Melody, Rhythm, Harmony, Movement and just plain clanging noise: something I like to call the Chaos of Praise!
That psalm reminds us that the praise of God is an opportunity that for “everything that breathes”. God is the source of life and life praises God!
Diversity need not be a locked door that we hide behind. It only is, if we fear diversity. Or if we somehow fear that our own faith is brought into question, just because someone else “does faith” differently.
//
As a United Church minister, believe me, I have known the experience of having my faith called into to question by others. Given the UCC’s progressive stances on the dignity of all people and the overarching love and opportunities of God reaching out to all, some of my Christian brothers and sisters have (from time to time) “noticed” the differences between how our denominations live out what we believe. Anytime you assume unanimity and find yourself face to face with diversity, it can be a bit shocking, even scary. I think I have mentioned before that, it was actually an agenda item at my very first Leduc Christian Ministerial Meeting ten years ago, whether the United Church qualified as Christian-enough to be part of the local Ministerial (that summer, the UC’s General Council had expressed continued support for equal civil rights for both same sex and opposite sex couples – we weren’t even using marriage language yet). I, intentionally, stayed out of the conversation. I had no desire to begin these new ecumenical relationships by defending myself or my denomination. I needed to learn more than I needed to teach. And so, I listened and let the existing members talk it out. And, as I expected, a diversity of views was the result. I felt very affirmed as a Christian leader and saw opportunities to find value in being involved with this diverse group of pastors.
Obviously, I and my church came out okay. The faces around the table have changes a lot over the past decade as clergy come and go, and I’m still considered “in” (phew!) – I am currently in my third (and mandated last) year as the secretary-treasurer for the local Ministerial Association. I guess being a good administrator is more important than theological-dogmatic differences.
(pray) Thank be to God!
//
//
It was fear, that kept Thomas (and Peter and Mary and Joanna) behind those locked doors after the crucifixion.
We aren’t told why Thomas had stepped out, but he is not able to believe what the others have experienced, because his experience was different. Fear, doubt, grief – a whole jumble of emotions – closed him from finding the spirit of what had happened to the others.
John’s gospel tells us that Thomas got his turn, one week later. It is interesting to note that, for the others, even after a visit from the Risen Christ, a week later they were still behind locked doors. But Thomas was given his proof – look at my hands and feet, touch my wounds. That’s actually kind of unfortunate that Jesus came back a second time, because it supports that notion that empirical proof is necessary to believe. But, by the time the fourth gospel was written, probably some 60 years or so after the first easter – first hand visits from Risen Christ would be the rare stuff of legends. It was obviously not big on Jesus’ post-easter agenda to be going around to every potential Christian throughout the ages and showing off his crucifixion wounds. If Jesus’ message and his model (Way) for living was going to spread, it would be by faith, not proof. And it did.
The gospel writer knew that was the case – it had been the case for some 60 years already: so the final line intentionally included by the gospel writer in the Thomas story is: Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.
I love that phrasing – “have come to believe”. For many of us, faith is a progressive process. It is dynamic: growing (sometimes fast sometimes slowly); it stalls, it even moves backwards sometimes. Faith is a process!
If we are afraid that we are somehow not “doing it right”, because we don’t have everything figured out, maybe, we need to hear that line from John again: have come to believe.
//
// (end)
//
If you came to worship today expecting to be told all of the answers, Sorry. My best hope for you (and for me) is that from time to time, we can un-lock a new door.
Let us pray:
Loving God;
Help us find the path where we can find you.
Amen.
#185VU “You Tell Me That the Lord is Risen”
Sunday, April 4, 2010
WHAT CAN YOU COUNT ON?
April 4, 2010
Easter Sunday
Luke 24:1-50
Isaiah 35:17-25
John 20:1-18
Easter Sunday
Luke 24:1-50
Isaiah 35:17-25
John 20:1-18
A combination of messages shared at two easter morning services
- FROM JOHN: Mary thought she knew what was certain.
- Jesus was dead. The best she could do at this point was provide him with the dignity of a proper burial.
- Often executed criminals' bodies were not afforded such dignity. The Romans preferred to let them begin to decompose on the cross - as an encouragement for law and order.
- Even when she found the stone rolled away and the body of Jesus gone, Mary was certain she knew what had happened - the body was stolen. One last act of humiliation and terror to stop the Jesus Movement.
- When she saw that she was not alone in the garden, Mary was certain that this must be the gardener.
- She hoped that he might be certain where the body was - perhaps the vandals just carried it off a short distance and left Jesus lying somewhere in the garden. She was hopefully certain that the gardener might know.
- Mary's certainty was thrown into disarray.
- FROM LUKE: The women were told by the brilliantly glowing messengers that Jesus was not there, but was risen. They need not look for the living among the dead.
- When they told this to the others, they sluffed it off as an Idle Tale.
- Anna Carter Florence, one of the speakers at last year's United Church Worship Matters event, told me (and the others at her lecture) that we might best understand the attitude of the disciples if we translate that phrase "idle tale" as bulls**t.
- The reaction of the disciples was that the woman's story was crap! It didn't make sense; they were certain of it.
- My favorite line that Anna Carter Florence had last June was "When dead things won't stay dead, what can you count on in this world?
- That's the power of the resurrection - it pushes us beyond what makes sense, past what we think we know for certain.
- There is so much anger and fear and ward and poverty and oppression and discrimination in the world that we have come to think that it is a certainty that these negative and worst aspects of the human condition are here to stay.
- But the prophet imagines with such hope that God's peace will reign that it will be as marvelous as if a lion was able to lie down with a lamb and not grab a snack.
- Easter hope is marvelous - it is a marvel. We should marvel in it!
- I know that for some Christians, the whole point of Easter is that it serves as proof that Jesus was God. It is like a holy "ta-dah!". I'm not so certain.
- If it was proof, it wasn't very effective. It seems that even people who were right there had trouble recognizing Jesus.
- Cleopas and Simon only realized that their travelling companion was Jesus when he broke the bread at supper.
- Mary, Joanna and Mary's angelic message was not all that convincing, nor was Mary Magdalene's proclamation that she had seen the lord!
- Uncertainty is a good thing - it makes faith necessary!
- Maybe we do well to not try and figure out all of the wheres whys and hows of Easter. Let's live with the uncertainty.
- Let's marvel in the experience of feeling that Jesus is a living presence among us.
- Thank God for the mystery and uncertainty of the resurrection.
- Faith is the by-product of this uncertainty.
- When dead things don't stay dead, anything could be possible.
- As Mary was told at the start of Luke's gospel: With God all things are possible.
Friday, April 2, 2010
MEETING JESUS
April 2, 2010
Good Friday
John 17-19 (selected)
The garden was a place of seclusion. Jesus wanted a chance to struggle with the next choice he was being forced to make, the next steps on the path he found himself travelling. Secluded is good, but it can also be a bit un-nerving, especially at night. Let us remember that Jesus was not from around there. At best, he might have camped there during other pilgrimages to Jerusalem, with his family as a child or perhaps in the active years of his ministry. The Bible doesn’t tell us why Peter, James and John accompanied him to the garden – was it safety in numbers? That could make sense especially, if Judas’ motivations were now known. Did they insist - worried about Jesus going off on his own? Did Jesus want the company? He asked them to watch and wait, not wanting them to sleep. Jesus checked back a couple of times to see if they were still there and that they were still awake. The “why” is a piece of the story we are forced to leave to mystery and speculation.
We are challenged to just trust the narrative that Jesus was in the garden semi-secluded. His companions were near by, and he did check in from time to time, but he had the space and time he needed to struggle with God about what he should do next. Although there was likely some room for a bit of a middle ground, Jesus seems to have whittled it down to two extreme choices: (1) give up the message he was so committed to, and hope that he could just go home quietly; or (2) continue preaching what he had been preaching and “live” with the consequences of that gospel.
The latter was a “cup he wasn’t sure he was ready to drink” when he went off in the garden.
If Jesus did decide to make a run for it, it was likely too late because the advantages which the secluded garden held for prayer and discernment also allowed Judas to bring an arresting party to take Jesus into custody. However, given Jesus’ relatively calm mood, we assume that (in the end) that Jesus had accepted his fate and was prepared to deal with whatever was waiting for him.
When we meet Jesus in the garden, we are meeting one who knows that faith can sometimes test our patience and commitment. When we meet Jesus in the garden, we are meeting one who takes time to discern where the Spirit might be calling and draws on a sometimes-less-than-logical-trust-and-faith to try and get through difficult times.
//
Jesus was brought in to meet with both the powers of religion and politics. Less than 24 hours before the Sabbath, a hastily called meeting was held in the high priest’s court. Jesus had been drawing un-wanted attention. The mini-riot at the temple when Jesus drove out the money changers was probably brought up. As well, Jesus was being asked to clarify a number of rumours: things he had taught that seemed less than consistent than traditional doctrine, and claims of Messiah-ship that were being made about Jesus. Did the Annas or Caiaphas know about the special anointing Jesus had been given only a few days earlier? Was there worry that Jesus had accepted a coronation as the next “David”, so long hoped for by large segments of the Hebrew population? This may have been a concern, theologically, but also a delicate political subject. Judea and Galilee were occupied lands of the vast Roman Empire. They had a large degree of religious freedom, but Messiah-talk reached into the areas of leadership, which could be of concern to the Empire. Even Hebrew leaders, like Herod in Galilee, only ruled under the supervision and oversite of the Romans! The high priest wanted to know what was really going on with Jesus and his palm waving followers!
Jesus chose to be of little help. He was prepared to stand by what he had been doing and saying and he wasn’t going to comment on rumours.
//
In the Roman Governor’s head quarters there was similar scene, with a much different approach from a political perspective. All of the theology and dogma meant nothing to Pilate in and of itself. But these messianic claims were important. Not from a religious leadership point of view, not with a view to faith, but to the very heart of the meaning of the word: Messiah.
Messiah (Hebrew, or Christ, in Greek) means “anointed one”. It uses the same language that was part of the ancient coronation rituals. When Israel evolved it first monarchy, the prophet Samuel was charged by God to find a suitable king for the people. When Saul was chosen (and the same thing later with David), there was a ceremony of sacred anointing with oil. That ceremony preceded the actual rise to power. It was the permission, the right to rule.
Had Jesus been chosen or had he claimed this right? Are you a king?!
Again, Jesus chose to be unhelpful, not confirming, nor denying rumours: choosing instead to do that annoying thing of answering questions with questions.
When we meet Jesus in the court of power, we are meeting one stripped of any legitimate authority: we are meeting one who knows that they are out matched by the system and yet is able to remain committed to the truth held dear! They have most of the power, but not all. They could question him, but they couldn’t force an answer. They could threaten punishment and pain, even death, but they couldn’t make him change his mind.
They hoped they could kill the man and the movement would die too, but they had no guarantee of that!
//
Jesus was delivered to the soldiers after the sentence had been pronounced. Nothing short of a dramatic jail break, or perhaps a well placed bride to the right person, would change the path Jesus was on now.
His death was a certainty, and so the remaining time would be used for the amusement of the soldiers and the social motivation of the crowds, geared towards any who might be tempted to run a-fowl of the authorities. Jesus’ physical humiliation would be a walking billboard for local-law-and-order.
When we meet Jesus with a crown of thorns and a mock royal robe, we are meeting one who is at the mercy of others, not in control. When we meet Jesus on this path of sorrow, we are witnessing the worst of our human nature – the ability to hurt and destroy – the desire to quickly end our feelings of frustration. That’s the main purpose behind capital punishment (always has been and still is): in ending the life of one we have decided in criminal, we hope end our pain: pain that we have because of this person we want dead.
I am sure that for some, it does bring closure to deliver the ultimate punishment to someone we have concluded deserves nothing less.
In Jesus, we see the biggest concern with capital punishment (always has been and still is): the presumably innocent person marched to the gallows or the gas chamber or the chair ... or the cross. We might see Jesus as innocent. Pilate might be remembered as having declared it too. But it may still have been legal and within the empire’s right to punish Jesus and end his movement in this way.
When we meet Jesus on the road to Golgotha, we are meeting one who seems out of place, who is being unreasonably punished – tortured, humiliated and murdered – all to satisfy a blood lust, a tyrannical clinging to power and a sick sense of retribution.
//
Once at the Place of the Skull, Jesus’ authority continues to fade. The irony of the sign of punishment: “The King of the Jews!” We hear the biblical comments of those who wanted it to be clear that Jesus was only claimed to be king, he really wasn’t. Would anyone who witnessed the crucifixion have concluded that any claims to kingship (real or imagined) meant anything?
If Jesus was a king, Rome was stripping him of his throne. The sign placed above Jesus’ head, whether intended by Pilate to be a subtle appreciation for Jesus’ real authority or a message of cruel irony, would have been read as a warning:
Don’t try to control this region – it belongs to Rome; Caesar is your king and no one else!
//
When we meet Jesus on the cross – we are meeting one stripped of all power, totally defeated. We are in that black hole where we wonder whether God is even real. Has any of it been worth it.
When this one struggles to say those last words: it is finished!, we are left with little hope to be believe anything else.
It is finished.
The powers of this world have won.
God is dead. (extinguish candle)
#184VU “We Meet you, O Christ”
Good Friday
John 17-19 (selected)
The garden was a place of seclusion. Jesus wanted a chance to struggle with the next choice he was being forced to make, the next steps on the path he found himself travelling. Secluded is good, but it can also be a bit un-nerving, especially at night. Let us remember that Jesus was not from around there. At best, he might have camped there during other pilgrimages to Jerusalem, with his family as a child or perhaps in the active years of his ministry. The Bible doesn’t tell us why Peter, James and John accompanied him to the garden – was it safety in numbers? That could make sense especially, if Judas’ motivations were now known. Did they insist - worried about Jesus going off on his own? Did Jesus want the company? He asked them to watch and wait, not wanting them to sleep. Jesus checked back a couple of times to see if they were still there and that they were still awake. The “why” is a piece of the story we are forced to leave to mystery and speculation.
We are challenged to just trust the narrative that Jesus was in the garden semi-secluded. His companions were near by, and he did check in from time to time, but he had the space and time he needed to struggle with God about what he should do next. Although there was likely some room for a bit of a middle ground, Jesus seems to have whittled it down to two extreme choices: (1) give up the message he was so committed to, and hope that he could just go home quietly; or (2) continue preaching what he had been preaching and “live” with the consequences of that gospel.
The latter was a “cup he wasn’t sure he was ready to drink” when he went off in the garden.
If Jesus did decide to make a run for it, it was likely too late because the advantages which the secluded garden held for prayer and discernment also allowed Judas to bring an arresting party to take Jesus into custody. However, given Jesus’ relatively calm mood, we assume that (in the end) that Jesus had accepted his fate and was prepared to deal with whatever was waiting for him.
When we meet Jesus in the garden, we are meeting one who knows that faith can sometimes test our patience and commitment. When we meet Jesus in the garden, we are meeting one who takes time to discern where the Spirit might be calling and draws on a sometimes-less-than-logical-trust-and-faith to try and get through difficult times.
//
Jesus was brought in to meet with both the powers of religion and politics. Less than 24 hours before the Sabbath, a hastily called meeting was held in the high priest’s court. Jesus had been drawing un-wanted attention. The mini-riot at the temple when Jesus drove out the money changers was probably brought up. As well, Jesus was being asked to clarify a number of rumours: things he had taught that seemed less than consistent than traditional doctrine, and claims of Messiah-ship that were being made about Jesus. Did the Annas or Caiaphas know about the special anointing Jesus had been given only a few days earlier? Was there worry that Jesus had accepted a coronation as the next “David”, so long hoped for by large segments of the Hebrew population? This may have been a concern, theologically, but also a delicate political subject. Judea and Galilee were occupied lands of the vast Roman Empire. They had a large degree of religious freedom, but Messiah-talk reached into the areas of leadership, which could be of concern to the Empire. Even Hebrew leaders, like Herod in Galilee, only ruled under the supervision and oversite of the Romans! The high priest wanted to know what was really going on with Jesus and his palm waving followers!
Jesus chose to be of little help. He was prepared to stand by what he had been doing and saying and he wasn’t going to comment on rumours.
//
In the Roman Governor’s head quarters there was similar scene, with a much different approach from a political perspective. All of the theology and dogma meant nothing to Pilate in and of itself. But these messianic claims were important. Not from a religious leadership point of view, not with a view to faith, but to the very heart of the meaning of the word: Messiah.
Messiah (Hebrew, or Christ, in Greek) means “anointed one”. It uses the same language that was part of the ancient coronation rituals. When Israel evolved it first monarchy, the prophet Samuel was charged by God to find a suitable king for the people. When Saul was chosen (and the same thing later with David), there was a ceremony of sacred anointing with oil. That ceremony preceded the actual rise to power. It was the permission, the right to rule.
Had Jesus been chosen or had he claimed this right? Are you a king?!
Again, Jesus chose to be unhelpful, not confirming, nor denying rumours: choosing instead to do that annoying thing of answering questions with questions.
When we meet Jesus in the court of power, we are meeting one stripped of any legitimate authority: we are meeting one who knows that they are out matched by the system and yet is able to remain committed to the truth held dear! They have most of the power, but not all. They could question him, but they couldn’t force an answer. They could threaten punishment and pain, even death, but they couldn’t make him change his mind.
They hoped they could kill the man and the movement would die too, but they had no guarantee of that!
//
Jesus was delivered to the soldiers after the sentence had been pronounced. Nothing short of a dramatic jail break, or perhaps a well placed bride to the right person, would change the path Jesus was on now.
His death was a certainty, and so the remaining time would be used for the amusement of the soldiers and the social motivation of the crowds, geared towards any who might be tempted to run a-fowl of the authorities. Jesus’ physical humiliation would be a walking billboard for local-law-and-order.
When we meet Jesus with a crown of thorns and a mock royal robe, we are meeting one who is at the mercy of others, not in control. When we meet Jesus on this path of sorrow, we are witnessing the worst of our human nature – the ability to hurt and destroy – the desire to quickly end our feelings of frustration. That’s the main purpose behind capital punishment (always has been and still is): in ending the life of one we have decided in criminal, we hope end our pain: pain that we have because of this person we want dead.
I am sure that for some, it does bring closure to deliver the ultimate punishment to someone we have concluded deserves nothing less.
In Jesus, we see the biggest concern with capital punishment (always has been and still is): the presumably innocent person marched to the gallows or the gas chamber or the chair ... or the cross. We might see Jesus as innocent. Pilate might be remembered as having declared it too. But it may still have been legal and within the empire’s right to punish Jesus and end his movement in this way.
When we meet Jesus on the road to Golgotha, we are meeting one who seems out of place, who is being unreasonably punished – tortured, humiliated and murdered – all to satisfy a blood lust, a tyrannical clinging to power and a sick sense of retribution.
//
Once at the Place of the Skull, Jesus’ authority continues to fade. The irony of the sign of punishment: “The King of the Jews!” We hear the biblical comments of those who wanted it to be clear that Jesus was only claimed to be king, he really wasn’t. Would anyone who witnessed the crucifixion have concluded that any claims to kingship (real or imagined) meant anything?
If Jesus was a king, Rome was stripping him of his throne. The sign placed above Jesus’ head, whether intended by Pilate to be a subtle appreciation for Jesus’ real authority or a message of cruel irony, would have been read as a warning:
Don’t try to control this region – it belongs to Rome; Caesar is your king and no one else!
//
When we meet Jesus on the cross – we are meeting one stripped of all power, totally defeated. We are in that black hole where we wonder whether God is even real. Has any of it been worth it.
When this one struggles to say those last words: it is finished!, we are left with little hope to be believe anything else.
It is finished.
The powers of this world have won.
God is dead. (extinguish candle)
#184VU “We Meet you, O Christ”
Thursday, April 1, 2010
SPIRIT IN THE MALL
I spent part of yesterday afternoon at West Edmonton Mall, having driven a couple of teenagers in from Leduc to ride the rides at Galaxyland. It didn’t make sense for me to come back to Leduc and go and pick them up later, so, I brought my computer and a couple of books and camp out in one of The Mall’s food courts.
Wow, what a busy place! People coming and going, families, friends, a microcosm of society – all ages, races, etc. And it’s not like there was a rush time, it was busy the whole afternoon that I sat there.
Over it all was … the noise of connection. There was actually more sound in the air from the countless conversations than the music, bells and whistles of the amusement park.
In the food court, this all happens around … (you guessed it) … food [not necessarily the healthiest of food, but food none the less].
//
Our bodies are complex machines which need a regular replenishment of nutrients to continue to operate, so we can live and move and have our being. Since at least the dawn of humanity, I suspect that we have understood the value of community when it comes to our meals. It may have started as basic pack instinct where there is safety in numbers, but it would have evolved into an enjoyment of the meal experience that is more than simply consuming the meal itself.
Those who have any spent time in the world of dating and courtship know that a meal – or even a cup of coffee - is often the vehicle (or excuse) for a social setting. That is also most certainly true in less hormonal based environments. Even at church, we often put the coffee on as a background to inviting people to visit with each other after a worship service. It is a common lament of the modern age that families don’t sit down for meals as regularly as they used to.
//
We can learn a lot about Jesus and the kind of approach to life he had by looking at his choice of dinner guests. Ignoring the concept of a head table at a banquet, there is a real equality that comes into play when people share a common meal. The bread and cup have a uniting effect.
We see that in the gospels, times when Jesus was chastised for eating with so-called outcasts and sinners. Jesus choice to have a meal with Zaccheaus, the despised local roman tax official; Jesus complimented the outcast woman who crashed the dinner party and anointed his head with scented oil; Jesus told a story about a banquet so inviting that every highway and byway was searched to be sure that the tables would be filled.
//
And even on Jesus final night of freedom, at what would turn out to be his Last Supper, he broke bread with both loyalist and betrayer alike. In a room of friends and disciples who were a coming together of men and women from various walks of life to follow Jesus in whom they found a common longing fulfilled.
Judas and Mary, Thomas and Peter – united around a common meal.
The oldest account of the impact of that last supper, doesn’t come from the gospels which tell us in narrative form what was happening, but from one of the letters of the Apostle Paul. The gospels didn’t take written form until at least the year 71 or so. Paul was travelling and writing in the 50s. Now that is still a couple of decades after the first, last supper, but the letter of First Corinthians is our oldest source. By the 50s, it must have become a common practice within the early church to come together for worship and food. Paul was concerned that in some circles the spiritual meaning of what they were doing was being lost, so he wrote a reminder of what the common meal was all about and why it was important for the church to remember it as part of their origin and their common story:
1st CORINTHIANS 11:17-26
17 Now in the following instructions I do not commend you, because when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse. 18For, to begin with, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you; and to some extent I believe it. 19Indeed, there have to be factions among you, for only so will it become clear who among you are genuine. 20When you come together, it is not really to eat the Lord’s supper. 21For when the time comes to eat, each of you goes ahead with your own supper, and one goes hungry and another becomes drunk. 22What! Do you not have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you!
23 For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
Wow, what a busy place! People coming and going, families, friends, a microcosm of society – all ages, races, etc. And it’s not like there was a rush time, it was busy the whole afternoon that I sat there.
Over it all was … the noise of connection. There was actually more sound in the air from the countless conversations than the music, bells and whistles of the amusement park.
In the food court, this all happens around … (you guessed it) … food [not necessarily the healthiest of food, but food none the less].
//
Our bodies are complex machines which need a regular replenishment of nutrients to continue to operate, so we can live and move and have our being. Since at least the dawn of humanity, I suspect that we have understood the value of community when it comes to our meals. It may have started as basic pack instinct where there is safety in numbers, but it would have evolved into an enjoyment of the meal experience that is more than simply consuming the meal itself.
Those who have any spent time in the world of dating and courtship know that a meal – or even a cup of coffee - is often the vehicle (or excuse) for a social setting. That is also most certainly true in less hormonal based environments. Even at church, we often put the coffee on as a background to inviting people to visit with each other after a worship service. It is a common lament of the modern age that families don’t sit down for meals as regularly as they used to.
//
We can learn a lot about Jesus and the kind of approach to life he had by looking at his choice of dinner guests. Ignoring the concept of a head table at a banquet, there is a real equality that comes into play when people share a common meal. The bread and cup have a uniting effect.
We see that in the gospels, times when Jesus was chastised for eating with so-called outcasts and sinners. Jesus choice to have a meal with Zaccheaus, the despised local roman tax official; Jesus complimented the outcast woman who crashed the dinner party and anointed his head with scented oil; Jesus told a story about a banquet so inviting that every highway and byway was searched to be sure that the tables would be filled.
//
And even on Jesus final night of freedom, at what would turn out to be his Last Supper, he broke bread with both loyalist and betrayer alike. In a room of friends and disciples who were a coming together of men and women from various walks of life to follow Jesus in whom they found a common longing fulfilled.
Judas and Mary, Thomas and Peter – united around a common meal.
The oldest account of the impact of that last supper, doesn’t come from the gospels which tell us in narrative form what was happening, but from one of the letters of the Apostle Paul. The gospels didn’t take written form until at least the year 71 or so. Paul was travelling and writing in the 50s. Now that is still a couple of decades after the first, last supper, but the letter of First Corinthians is our oldest source. By the 50s, it must have become a common practice within the early church to come together for worship and food. Paul was concerned that in some circles the spiritual meaning of what they were doing was being lost, so he wrote a reminder of what the common meal was all about and why it was important for the church to remember it as part of their origin and their common story:
1st CORINTHIANS 11:17-26
17 Now in the following instructions I do not commend you, because when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse. 18For, to begin with, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you; and to some extent I believe it. 19Indeed, there have to be factions among you, for only so will it become clear who among you are genuine. 20When you come together, it is not really to eat the Lord’s supper. 21For when the time comes to eat, each of you goes ahead with your own supper, and one goes hungry and another becomes drunk. 22What! Do you not have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you!
23 For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
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