Sermon - Day of Pentecost - Year A

Acts 2:1-21                      

                                                      The Wind Blows

We need to make sure that everyone has the basic information in their heads about Pentecost.  Pentecost is the Christian Festival on which we observe the sending (or arrival) of the Holy Spirit among the disciples.  All of this happens on “the day of Pentecost.” “Pentecost” is not an observance added to the calendar.  Pentecost is another Jewish festival onto which Christian tradition is added.  This is a rather common practice.  The events we observe each Easter are intertwined with the ancient observance of Passover.  It during Passover that the Christian story of the Last Supper occurs.  In John’s account, it is on the day of the sacrifice of the Passover lambs that Jesus dies an innocent death.

Pentecost was being observed, in Jerusalem, on the day that the events described in Acts 2 are depicted.  The people of God were assembled, to remember God’s activity in the past and to commit themselves to living in accordance to God’s hope for the future.  This celebration was already underway, and the people of God were comfortably repeating their liturgies and carrying out their traditions.  They were happy and content.  Comfortable in their relationship to God.

Then.  Something happens.  Acts tells us that there was “a sound like the rush of a violent wind.”  The whole house was filled with it.  And soon, those gathered in the house were filled as well.  And they began to speak.  And as they spoke devout followers of God from every corner of the world heard them and could understand.  Peter steps forward and tells them that all of this is God’s doing.  And he tells them that this sound, like the rush of a violent wind, is announcing good news.  God is adding to their stories and their traditions.  God is bringing them an update and God is inviting them to see Pentecost in a whole different light.    

That is what happens.  On the Day of Pentecost.  As recorded in The Acts of the Apostles.

One advantage of being in a new parish is you can retell stories.  This story was from three years ago – the week of Pentecost.

In the border between my yard and the neighbors, there was the beautiful bed of tiger lilies.  Early in the week, they were in full bloom.  Beautiful and lovely and a testimony to the work of the homeowner.  The craft of the steward showed forth.  His efforts were seen in each bloom and blossom.  Then came one of those early summer thunderstorms.  There was the sound of pounding rain and strong winds.  The kind when you worry that limbs will fall or trees be toppled.  It was all over that bed of lilies showed the effects.  Many had weathered the storm, but a goodly number were blown to the ground.   

Even an armchair agronomist knows and would quickly point out that the wind is not to blame or be feared.  In fact, without the wind, those beautiful blooms could not scatter their seeds.  Without the wind, rain would not come, and rock would not be transformed into rich, fertile soil.

The vision, the revelation which I received that Pentecost was an acknowledgement that these faithful stewards had used all their craft and devotion in order to craft a thing of beauty; and then God’s wind came.  When the wind came, some of what they had worked so hard to build was torn down.  That tearing down disappointed me, Laura, and others who were admiring what had been built up.  But it is God who makes the wind to blow.  And when God’s wind blows, that expression of God does what it is that God is doing.

We need to be careful, that we are too limited in our ability to see.  We need to be prepared, to accept the change which comes when something like the rush of a violent wind comes.  We may be too quick to stomp our feet and complain at the disruption this wind has brought upon that which we have crafted.  That wind is absolutely necessary to bring to completion that which God has created.

I didn’t do the work; but I was still disappointed when I saw what happened to the flowerbed my neighbor had worked so hard to establish.  I caught myself, but I did initially think “What a tragedy.”  That’s when it became a vision, a revelation.  Like those verses in Job when Job complains about the worm that kills the tree that had given him shade, God reminded me that I had not created those lilies nor had I tended them.  Who was I to place my desire for a thing of beauty above the designs and intricacies of God’s creation and the ends toward which God is calling that which God has made?

The devout followers of God who were gathered in Jerusalem on Pentecost were no doubt content with the world as God had made it and revealed it to them.  They liked the beauty of their rituals and their Temple and their understanding of God’s involvement in their lives.  Then, there came a violent wind.  And it filled the whole house, and eventually it filled all those who were gathered in the house and then it began to fill the streets and the city and eventually the whole world.

Those who were there, that first day, probably would have liked to put that wind back in a bottle.  But they couldn’t.  And they didn’t.  They allowed the wind to violently remake the world and the understanding God’s people have of what that world is to be like.

They started gathering on Sundays rather than Friday evenings.  They started making the sign of the cross when they prayed.  They would not neglect the widows and orphans – particularly the orphans and widows of those who did not share family blood lines and/or skin tones.  They begin to write new, sacred books and they instituted new religious festivals and reinterpreted old ones.

That wind was violent.  It disrupted so much of what they had come to know as God’s pattern for their lives.  It blew down their daylilies, and wreaked havoc on the beautiful gardens they had planted and tended.

On this Pentecost Sunday, in the year of our Lord 2020, we would do well to prepare ourselves for an expression of that same violent wind.  (Actually, the text doesn’t say it was a violent wind, but a sound, like the rush of violent wind.  I also need to insert a reminder that the Hebrew word for “wind” is the same word as is used for “Spirit” and “Breath.”  So, this “wind” is to be understood as God’s “Spirit,” even God’s “breath”.)

We would do well to prepare ourselves for an expression of that same violent wind.  Let us pray that we don’t simply emerge from this experience of a world-wide pandemic but that we move to something better.  We have experienced a remaking of what it means to be Church and to church together.  Where is God’s Spirit moving us?  Will we note the effects of that wind and act in accordance?

We would do well to prepare ourselves for an expression of that same violent wind.  How have we allowed another unarmed man of color to die will under police custody?  If the Church is the bedrock of American society then the soil from which all things grows needs some tending and attention. 

The form taken by God’s agent of change is up to God.  What we need to do is to be ready to experience it; we need to be prepared to embrace it; and I would go so far as to say that we need to be praying for its arrival.

The thunderstorm which destroyed the tiger lilies was of God and from God.

The disruption which began in Jerusalem on that Pentecost Day some 2000 years ago was of God and from God.

As people of The Reformation, we ought not be surprised at the suggestion that God’s presence among us is calling forth additional understandings and interpretations of the ancient writings and rituals.  God’s presence is being experienced among us; some of the daylilies may fall; but let’s make sure we are welcoming this expression of God rather than attempting to put it back in the bottle.

Exactly like the devout persons gathered in Jerusalem on the very first Pentecost of the modern era, I don’t want any wind or spirit to come and disrupt the Church, this congregation, my life.  I like things the way they are.  I have tended and crafted much of what surrounds us today, as we gather in this place.  But scripture won’t allow me to ignore how God acts.  And that bed of daylilies is an image I can’t get out of my head.  I will work to preserve and enhance the beautiful things we have built in the name of Christ.  But I will pray, and invite you to join me in praying, for the ability and strength to perceive, accept, and give thanks for the change which occurs when God’s Spirit blows among us.

Amen.

Sermon - 7th Sunday of Easter - Year A

Acts 1:6-14, John 17:1-11       

                                Rather See than Hear Tell of It

"I'd rather see it than hear tell of it."  That is the reaction my father-in-law gives when he hears something that he either doesn’t believe or can’t find it in himself to trust.  Now, he is very good about not repeating this phrase in response to things I tell him, or things that I might include in my sermons.  At least he doesn’t say it out loud, or in my hearing.  But I do hear him - and his daughter - commenting "I'd rather see it than hear tell of it" as a way of expressing skepticism felt toward those who are always promising the world and never delivering.

I imagine you know the type.  They come up to you and inform you, "Oh, I meant to come by and help you paint those handrails­."  Or perhaps their comment is "I remembered your birthday and was thinking to myself, 'I should pick up some flowers and drop them by'".  In all our lives, there is at least one person who fits the type.   Always saying what they intended to do, but never really getting around to doing it.  From them, you are constantly hearing tell of it, but never seeing a thing. 

I found myself thinking this might have been the thought going through the minds of the disciples as they stood on the mount called Olivet.  They were not nearly so free with their thoughts as my father-in-law, at least not out loud, in the presence of their master.  But, as they stood there, struggling to accept the fact that Jesus was about to leave them, I wonder if they would not have wanted to say to Jesus how much better it was to see him than to hear him tell of the wonderful things that he was about to do for them. 

Remember that this is a post-resurrection appearance.  Jesus has already died and been raised from the dead.  He has made occasional visits to them, allowing them to see his wounds and touch the imprint of the nails.  During these visits, he has continued to teach them.  He has instructed them on matters which he knew would be particularly bothersome.  The disciples ask questions, ­trying to find answers to that which troubled them.  In speaking to them Jesus provides texts for future study right up to the very end.  Jesus finishes speaking and while they are still watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 

For a while, the disciples stand there, watching the place where he had disappeared.  Possibly they were hoping for some additional glance, one last opportunity to see him.  

It wasn't as if Jesus had not prepared them for these events.  He had told them, repeatedly, that he would be taken from their midst.  Our Gospel readings for the past three Sundays have been taken from that part of John’s gospel in which the very much alive Jesus tells the disciples that he will be leaving.  Referred to as Jesus’ Farewell Discourses, Jesus tells them "I go to prepare a place for you."  He comforts them by telling them, "I will not leave you orphaned.  He tells them ... (God) will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever."   Jesus had told them that the day was coming when he would be taken from them.  He had told them farewell, but he had also tried to reassure them.  He wanted them to be ready.  He wanted them to learn to trust in what they had heard tell, even when they could no longer see.  He wanted them to be ready to let go of him and to begin to trust in the Spirit.

In his remarks, Jesus had made it clear that this Spirit was nothing to be taken lightly.  This Spirit would never be taken from them; this Spirit would guide them into all truthfulness; this Spirit would be with them constantly; this Spirit would lead them to the place where God reigns.  The Spirit, the one promised to them, the one who could only come after Jesus left, was no small thing.  It was a wonderful gift indeed.

And yet, as they stood on the mount called Olivet, they look toward the heavens, trying to see Jesus.  They could not find it in themselves to trust in the unknown; they longed for that which was familiar.  They had rather see it than hear tell of it. 

What was true for them is also true for us.  If you listen carefully, if you observe what goes on in worship, you soon begin to realize that much of Christendom concerns itself with a dead Jesus.  Rather than living in relationship with the Spirit, too much of the Church devotes itself to the one who has died.  This is evidenced by our avoidance of the Day of the Ascension.  It passed last Thursday and unless you have strong Roman Catholic roots, you probably didn't even notice it.  We ignore the day set aside to mark Jesus' assent into heaven.  I wonder if we think by not honoring it, the day will pass without anyone noticing.  It seems we don't want to be without Jesus.

Think of how much energy and talk is devoted to uncovering and memorizing Jesus' sayings.  Consider the writing of Jesus' disciples and how we have over-glorified their importance.  Examine the way in which we carry out the so-called Great Commission of making disciples of all nations.  We go about it by making sure they follow every step Jesus ever made.  Is worship an opportunity to come and discover the ongoing activity of God in our lives -or- is it simply a chance to come together and talk about what a wonderful guy this Jesus was?  Too often it is "Jesus this" and "Jesus that."  Too infrequently do we strive to leave ourselves open to the new thing God wills for us.  Too infrequently, we turn to and trust in God’s Spirit to lead and guide us.

New stuff is unclear.  Newness is nearly impossible to follow or comprehend.  We had much rather hold on to Jesus, even a dead Jesus, than to place our lives in the hands of an unseen Spirit.  We prefer that which we can see to that which is promised.  No matter how wonderful the promise may be, in our minds it is no match for that which we know.

Like the good folks of Galilee, we remain looking up toward heaven. 

We are told that two men in white robes come and point out the disciples' pre-occupation with that which they could no longer see.  These two men in white robes remind them that they are not to spend their days looking after the one who had departed.  Instead they are to return to the city and there carry out the work which had been assigned to them.

The story of Jesus' life is important.  From his teachings we learn how God would have us live our lives; we understand the lengths to which God will go in order to reclaim us as children.  But, at some point, the enterprise we refer to as Christian faith demands that let go of the one who came among us and embrace the one who will never be taken from us.  We must live in the Spirit and trust this Spirit with our lives.

"I'd rather see it than hear tell of it."  It is easier to hold on to that which is known than to trust in that which has only been promised.  But if we do not turn loose, we might just squeeze the life out of that which has seemed so precious to us. 

"Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?"   Return to Jerusalem and there you will discover where it is that the Spirit intends to lead you.

Amen.

Sermon - 6th Sunday of Easter - Year

John 14:15-21

                                                             An Advocate 

“I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.”

In scripture, there are no such things as “throw away lines,” but there are some verses which ought to be somewhat more familiar and kept close at heart.  I can’t begin to tell you the joy which came into my life Friday as I was texting one of our regular worship attendees.  We were attending to a totally separate matter, and she sent me a text saying, “My alarm just went off!  It is 10:10!”  Do you remember that sermon?  Two weeks back?  It called attention to John 10:10?  Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life.  And have it abundantly.”

Well there is another one today.  And while I hope it doesn’t replace 10:10, I think it may be even more helpful as you make your way through these particular days.  “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.” 

Jesus says to his disciples – “I will ask the Father.”  And Jesus announces that the Father will “give” us “another Advocate.”  And this advocate will be with you forever.  Forever!

This, my brothers and sisters, is a verse worth remembering – and repeating often.

I always like to check folk’s memory of such essential verses.  Last week we pointed out that most of us grew up thinking of “mansions” rather than the “dwelling places” in our current English translation of the promise “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places”.  This week, you may remember that in the King James version, the translation speaks of this gift from God as “the Comforter.”  “Comforter” is the more common translation.  Even the Darby uses “Comforter.”  If you read to your children from the dynamic translation – Contemporary English Version – you are likely to remember the name for the one who is to come to us is “Holy Spirit.”  This isn’t without merit.  Verse 17 seems to refer to this same, promised one.  And here the descriptive title is “Spirit of truth,” with “Spirit” being capitalized – suggesting a proper name.

We are also only two weeks away from Pentecost – so the promise in these verses is surely a foreshadowing of the day when the spirit of the Lord descends upon Jesus’ followers.

All of these various translations capture the essential information that what is being promised is that aspect of God, referred to in our trinitarian language as the “Third Person of the Trinity.” This is what is being promised and is being received by those who live in Jesus’ commandments.  “What’s in a name?”  not much, in many instances.  Nor in this case, except for how the name communicates to us what it is that God is doing when God comes to us in this way.  And here, the name could prove to be very important.

Let’s start with Holy Spirit.  This is the reference with which we are most familiar.  This way of speaking of the Third Person of the Trinity allows us to catch one of the prime traits – God is able to be with us wherever we are.  “Spirits” can pass through walls and manifest themselves in any setting.  Spirits can listen in without being detected and manipulate things without being noticed.

In most instances, I am very satisfied with the King James Version’s references to “Comforter.”  God is the predominate calming influence in my life.  Whenever I get stressed, I turn to God in prayer.  When there are things too enormous for me to manage, I throw the pile into God’s lap.  When I curl up into a tight little ball, it is God’s arms which hold me tight.

We need a comforter these days.  We need one really bad.  And we need a comforter who can pass through walls of social distancing and manifest itself in the anxious corners of our life.  Let us give thanks to God for this comforter.

This latest way of referring to God’s presence in our lives goes beyond simply being with us and standing by our side.  When translators arrive at “Advocate,” they remind us that God is not merely reactive but also proactive.  God does not merely see our distress; God pushes back against it.  God is our advocate; God is the one who stands up for us and acts on our behalf.  An advocate guides us through difficult times and remains with us when we face life-altering decisions.  We are surely aided by the God is such an Advocate at this time in our lives.

Note that Jesus refers to this gift from God as “another Advocate”.  This translation helps us to remember how the other persons of the Trinity also step into roles which defend us an protect us.  Did not God the Creator push back the darkness and create the lights in the heavens?  Did not God the Saviour take on our form and endure our suffering?  God is our advocate.  And in John 14:15 we get Jesus’ clear acknowledgement that this is a role and action which will embody who God is into all eternity.

We need a God who will stand with us and advocate for us as we confront the pandemic of COVID-19.  We need a God who will step in front of us when those with little regard for public health and our health engage in dangerous behaviors.  We need a God whose speaking will strengthen our voices when we call for an immediate and total end to blaming and name-calling.  We need a God who has given and will continue to give knowledge and skill and determination to those working in labs and research centers.  We need an Advocate.

We have not been left orphaned.  We have been adopted as God’s children.  And our loving Father sent his Son to show us the way.  God is now sending among us another – an advocate – who will speak for us when are overwhelmed and who will defend us when we are under assault. 

Jesus says to his disciples:  “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.”

Amen.

Sermon - 5th Sunday of Easter - Year A

John 14:1-14

                                  Many (Many) Resting Places 

John 14 is typically a funeral text.  Before I move away from that thought, allow me to extend the comfort of Jesus’ words to all of you who may associate  these words with the funeral of a loved one or family member.  These words are comforting, and consoling and ought to be read whenever and wherever there is any worry or apprehension or grief.  Jesus’ words are more than a promise; Jesus’ words are an announcement, a proclamation.  “Do not let your hearts be troubled….  In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”

Jesus is sharing information; Jesus speaks of what is real and sure.  These words do bring great comfort to us.  These verses ought to be shared with all who mourn and with everyone who stands by the grave and commends a loved one into God’s eternal arms.

Let us all give thanks for the many times when these words from John 14 have brought comfort to those returning to God the one whom God has claimed as son/daughter.  What I would like to suggest to you this morning is that these words are too wonderful to ONLY be spoken at funerals.  I would very much like to be part of a Church in which John 14 sums up the way we see ourselves alive in the world which Christ has come to save.  My contribution to whatever emotion or reaction these words might already bring is to point out how they speak to the way you and I are invited to spend this day and every day which God gives us.

The place where this happens is in the way we translate that all important second verse. 

Look at this with me, if you need to.  Many if not most can probably recite it from memory.  “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”  “Dwelling places” is the translation here.  But I wonder how many of you reciting from memory used a different image.  Did any of you recite, “In my Father’s house are many mansions”?  “Mansions” is the King James Translation.  And for many of us the image of mansions in heaven is what we think of when we hear this passage.  When I was taking my bible courses, the instructor pointed out to us that another possible translation would be to call these things “rest stops.”  Think of what the passage may mean for us this morning is the translation was this - In my Father’s house there are many resting places”?

The announcement Jesus makes is that when we do find ourselves in full time residence in the house of his Father and our Father, there will be a “mansion” for us.  The good news Jesus shares is that we do not find such comfort only when death has robbed us of life.  In my Father’s world, there are many (many) resting places.  The next one is closer than you think.  And each is a place prepared by God for the children of God.

These words (and so many others) do address the fear too often assumed to accompany the transition in which we now live with Jesus.  In our Father’s house, there is a grand and glorious place for us.

These words (and so many others) also assure us that God has prepared resting spots for us as we continue on the journey which will eventually bring us to that grand and final day.

Somers Farmer shared with the Thirsty Thursday group the significance of these resting spots.  When it was her turn to share how the week was going, she summed up with an acknowledgement that there were sufficient “ups” in her week to make the “downs” seem insignificant.  Her words brought comfort to all of us, and confidence amid our various “downs.”  I thanked her and told her that her comment reminded of the words of Dr. Joseph Sittler.  Sittler was a professor at the seminary at Chicago.  In one of his earlier writings, he spoke of watching seagulls along the shore.  Most of their time was spent hovering above – he said.  But then they would swoop down, and almost as rapidly return to their place in the sky.  Sittler likened this to his experience of God.  While he wished God would be a continual and constant and undeniable presence, most often we journey amid questions and we search for where the Lord may be found.  Even so, there have been enough “swoops” to sustain us and feed us and enable us to hold on until the next “swoop” happens.

Some day I will go to live with Jesus.  Until that time, I have Jesus’ announcement that as I continue my journey on earth there will be many rest spots – many “swoops” – which will give me the confidence I need.

You can evaluate where you are between the last time you were graced with a warming of your heart and how desperately you seek such a visit on this day.  And I do not want to ignore that the space between those undeniable experiences of God’s presence can be far too great.  If only we could manufacture them.  What I will offer you is the opportunity to see John 14 as more than a prediction of what our existence will be like at the end of our journey and to realize that Jesus’ announcement has as much (if not more) to say to where we are this day.

Between resting spots, we become weary.  Between euphoric moments in our spiritual life, we get petty and inclined to argue.  There can be no doubt that this congregation is in one of those between times.  Did we not hope a new pastor would be under call by now?  The ceiling repairs create an anxiousness about the physical space associated with those funerals, as well as baptisms, wedding, and confirmations.  And where would I even begin to speak of the void created by the COVID pandemic?  When will we be able to return to the house of the Lord? 

The frustration produced by “times in between” make it way to easy to snip at one another or fail to interpret the actions of others in the kindest of ways.  The worry that “this may be all there is” encourages us to amass for ourselves and horde all we can grab.  In essence – we worry that another will find a place to lay down their burdens, but there won’t be a place for us to do so. 

Relax.  And set aside your fears and concerns.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Jesus says, “Believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father’s house there are many (resting spots).  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you maybe also.”

Amen.

Sermon - 4th Sunday of Easter - Year A

John 10:1-10, Acts 2:42-47

                                                    Life - Abundantly 

It has been a bit difficult to take attendance, with these life-streaming worship services.  So, I have no way of knowing or remembering how many of you with us this morning may have been with us on Easter morning.  In preparing for this morning’s worship service, I kept remembering Easter and the emotions I shared during the sermon that morning.

Easter 2020 was unlike any we have ever experienced.  There were no sanctuaries filled with worshippers; none of the pre-Easter shopping for a new outfit.  Charlie did a marvelous job directing our music for that Sunday, but absent was the large choir and additional brass instruments.

All of that started us down a sad path Easter morning, until we began to realize that this Easter was in many ways the most like that first Easter we will ever experience.  More questions than answers.  Only a few close followers slipping out into the unknown in order to attempt to do what they could.  And worry that this may only be the start of what could be a very bad season.

We are still in that place.  While unrest has forced the lifting of the most severe of restrictions, the benchmarks we had established for ourselves six weeks ago are being abandoned or simply ignored.  There continues to be great uncertainty.

Once again, we could find ourselves starting in a downward emotional spiral.  But this is not my intention.  In fact, placing this morning in parallel with Easter is the first and only necessary indication that in this there will surely be a message of Good News.  The uncertainty in some aspects of our lives makes crystal clear the confidences and assurances and confessions of a great and glorious day dawning upon us from on high.

And that is exactly what is happening to us today!

Hopefully, you still have your bibles close at hand.  And you didn’t lose your place – both with regard to John Chapter 10 and Acts 2.  Place a a bookmark there, or a finger.

We are going to start with John.  Evan, our Director of Faith Formation, shared a wonderful story this week with our ministry groups meeting online.  One of the weeks he served as a camp counselor involved students preparing for their Affirmation of Faith.  This group had a habit which ensured that every participant learned John 10:10. Every morning, at 10:10 am, one of the advisers would yell, “It’s 10:10!”  And all of the members of their community would recite John 10:10. You should still have it there before you:  “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  Since you are sitting in your living room rather than being crammed into a pew, too close to one of those folks who hates to hear mumbling during the sermon, you can turn to your housemates and discuss adding this little activity to your day.  For those of you edging too close to stir-crazy, it might even a break.  Set an alarm on your phone.

Let’s practice: “It’s 10:10!” 

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

We do come closest to capturing the experience of that first Easter morning when we remember Jesus’ words regarding his mission and purpose.  In the rush to establish institutions, the message of Jesus has gotten a bit boxed in and accessorized.  Some accessories are lovely and do enhance the overall effect of our Easter outfits.  But others distract and take on a life of their own and begin to impede the thing which lies at the core. 

The message of that first Easter (and every Easter since) remains an announcement that where the world might bring death, God shines forth with life.

“It’s 10:10!” 

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

You know this.  You have experienced this.  This and this alone is the reason why you get up on a Sunday morning and move to that place where you can connect and reconnect with the Word of God and the promise of God.

Here is where I want to link over to the passage from Acts, Chapter 2.  Let’s note the principal location for the followers of Jesus to practice their piety.   Look at verse 46.  The center of their religious life was in their homes.  They did spend time in the temple, but it was at home that they “broke bread” and “ate their food with glad and generous hearts.”  I want us to notice this link and I pray to God that when COVID lock-downs are spoken of only as a matter of “do you remember when….” that we will be living in a world where the followers of Jesus are fed and encouraged and taught in the place where Jesus’ initial disciples lived out their devotion; in that place where we form our greatest and deepest convictions and life patterns.  Pastor Robert was fond of saying, “Faith is caught, not taught.”  And it is best contracted from those who live closest to us. 

“They broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts.”

The abundant life which Jesus brings to us is not some elaborate concoction requiring a Masters Degree to understand.  The news of the Resurrection does not necessitate a return to the large stone edifices which adorn the street corners of our cities.  Jesus came, and died, and rose.  All of this is fully and completely summed up in the promise of John 10:10.  “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  This simple affirmation is the only confession necessary to faith.

I think, when all the uncertainty is lifted, and we are once again comfortable gathering in large groups there is going to be a bit less of a need to do so.  I think – no I believe – that the strange times in which we find ourselves are allowing the preacher and teacher and theologian to emerge in each one of us.  I believe – no I hope – that we will never again return to a time when our children’s instruction is something that happens when they leave the home and go to some other location.  COVID may be moving us closer to the prophet’s announcement of the day on which each will teach their brother and mother will communicate to daughter the goodness of God grace and mercy.

There are many things which make these days frightening and unsettling.  One of the things which pushes back the curtains is the way in which each one is being the presence of Christ and the voice of his Church.  Each one is becoming resident theologian and preacher and teacher.  The Church will not emerge from this the same as we went into it.  Something great and glorious is emerging from the other side.  Can you see it?

Well, if not, keep looking.  And set that timer – right now.  10:10. Every day.  What does Jesus say?  “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

Amen.