salvagedfaith

New Every Morning

Posted on July 19, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Lamentations 3:19-33

When I was in high school, my youth group took a summer mission trip to the northwest part of our country.
I went to a larger church in Cedar Rapids, so we filled an entire bus with our students and chaperones.
Our ultimate destination was Seattle, but along the way we stopped and sang at churches in Wyoming and Idaho and we spent some time at Yellowstone National Park.
We took time to hike and walked through a part of the forest that had experienced a forest fire and saw the beginnings of the new forest already beginning to emerge with soft green baby trees.
We worshipped and remembered the indigenous people who once lived upon this land… like the Blackfeet, Crow, Sioux and Cheyenne.
We strolled along the pathways to see the hot springs and of course, visit Old Faithful.
And we rolled up our sleeves and got to work.
I remember one of the projects my group was assigned to was helping to secure rolls of grass seed to the side of a hill so that we could help prevent erosion along the road way.

But one of the things that has stuck with me the most from that particular trip was not the sights or the service… but a prayer.
A prayer that we said together every morning… often while we were rolling down the road on our bus.
A prayer that rose us up out of slumber and helped us to center ourselves before the day began.
A prayer that I still think of in the mornings.

We actually have this prayer in the back of all of our hymnals as part of the Orders for Daily Praise and Prayer:

New every morning is your love, great God of light,
And all day long you are working for good in the world.
Stir up in us desire to serve you,
To live peacefully with our neighbors,
And to devote each day to your Son,
Our Savior, Jesus Christ the Lord.

New every morning is your love.
Every morning.
Every. Single. Day.
Over and over again.

To be faithful is to be constant… steadfast… reliable…
And those words could certainly be used to describe one of the most striking features of Yellowstone National Park – Old Faithful.

Just beneath those gorgeous mountains and rivers and forests is an active volcano somewhere between thirty and fifty miles across.
As it simmers and brews underground, water from above seeps in and begins to boil, creating these amazing geothermic features throughout the park.

From mud pots to hot springs, you find incredible colors and textures as various gasses and bacteria and algae that thrive at different temperatures come alive.
And then there are the geysers, superheated water rockets that burst unpredictably out of the ground.

Well… most of them are unpredictable.
Not Old Faithful.
Roughly every ninety minutes, this geyser erupts.
In every kind of weather, in any part of the year, at any time of day.
Over and over and over again.
Consistently.
Constantly.
Faithfully.

As the Mills family found out just this week on their own family road trip in Yellowstone… here is Scott’s video!

Something you can count on.
Something you depend on just as sure as the sun will rise in the east.

Now… we can’t always see the sun rise.
Sometimes the rain is pouring on our heads or the storm clouds are raging.
But the sun still rises.

And as the author of Lamentations reminds us, the faithful and compassionate love of God is renewed every morning, too.
Even if we can’t see it.
Even if it seems like God is far away.
Even if we are swimming in distress.

The eruption of Old Faithful happens not in spite of the simmering energy and destructive forces just beneath the surface… but because of them.
And so it is with God.
It is in the midst of our lament…
In the midst of our conflict…
In the midst of our grief…
In the midst of our suffering…
It is because of all of those powers that could destroy and overwhelm that we witness the faithfulness of God’s love.

Now, what is interesting about what is happening to the lamenter is that they are talking about their own punishment by the hand of the Lord.
They were experiencing the consequences of a life where they had rejected peace…
Where they had forgotten what is good…
Like so many of the prophets, he is writing about the direct result of turning away from God’s ways…
of failing to look out for our neighbors,
of taking advantage of rather than caring for creation…
It is chaos.
It is destruction.
And while we can point to God as the cause, the truth is, we are simply harvesting what we have sown.

There is a lot happening in the world today…
A lot of the turmoil we are experiencing…
That are simply the consequences of choices and decisions we have made in the past.
The anger that is erupting on the streets about racial injustice is not simply about the racist actions of a few individuals.
It is confronting the cultural, historic, and structural systems that we all participate in and have not challenged in the past.
The rise in Covid-19 cases across the country, but also right here in Iowa… they are directly related to choices that we are making about whether or not to wear a mask, where we go, and who we interact with.
And now we are facing the consequences of increasing the burdens upon our families and our teachers because we have not done our part to create a safer environment and reduce the spread.

What the Lamenter also wants to remind us, however, is that in spite of all of our failures.
In spite of all of the consequences we are experiencing.
God has not walked out on us.
God’s faithful love has not disappeared.
God’s compassion doesn’t dry up.

No, every morning, it is renewed.
Every morning we experience just how great is God’s faithfulness.
Every time the sun comes up, we have a chance to turn away from our selfishness and our destructive tendencies and instead turn towards God.

And so when we feel like we are standing on the edge of the volcano…
When we feel like everything is falling apart…
When we feel like the consequences of our failures have become too great to bear…
That’s when we need to stop.
And wait.
And sit.

You know, the forces that lead to the eruption of Old Faithful rely upon two things.
First, the ever simmering force of the volcano.
Like our sin and our selfishness and our tendency towards destruction, it is a constant reality.

But it also depends upon the renewing and refreshing waters above the ground.
The melting of the snow in the mountains.
The rain that falls from the sky.
The ground water that seeps deep into the earth.
Without them, the geyser simply wouldn’t gush.
In the same way, God’s faithfulness and mercy are constantly pouring into our lives,
constantly rushing over us,
new every morning,
new every day.
As the Message translation puts it – God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out.
God’s merciful love couldn’t have dried up…
It is ever-flowing.
It will not end.

And when life is heavy and too hard to take, the lamenter reminds us that God is still there.
Waiting for us.
Waiting for us to set down our load.
Waiting for us to turn around.
Waiting for us to stop harming one another.
Waiting for us to face the music and get real and honest about where we went wrong.

If we keep going a bit farther in the text, the lamenter tells us that we must search and examine our ways.
We should lift our hearts and our hands to God.
We were the ones who did wrong.
And when we call out for another way…
God comes to our side.
Always.
Consistently.
Faithfully.

New every morning is your love, great God of light,
And all day long you are working for good in the world.
Stir up in us desire to serve you,
To live peacefully with our neighbors,
And to devote each day to your Son,
Our Savior, Jesus Christ the Lord.

A Resilient Foundation

Posted on June 21, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 7:24-25; Ephesians 3:14-19

Who holds you up?
What keeps you from toppling?
In the midst of storms and fire and viruses and racism and accusation and conflict, how do you not fall apart?
When you are juggling kids and work and zoom meetings and the dog and the lawn needs mowed what are you supposed to do?

Consider the lilies, Jesus says just a handful of verses before our scripture from Matthew today… or maybe in our case, consider the trees.
How does a giant sequoia remain standing for not years, not centuries, but for thousands of years?

General Sherman is the world’s largest known tree and can be found in the midst of Sequoia National Park. As Lyons and Barkhauer remind us, it is:
“…not the tallest, nor the widest, nor the oldest, but don’t let the lack of superlatives lower your expectations. General Sherman is the largest by volume and by weight. A sign at the tree’s base states it could hold enough water to fill almost ten thousand bathtubs, and that it weighs about 1,385 tons. Estimated at 2,200 years old [my note – that’s older than Jesus!] – the tree is more than 36 feet across at the base and towers 274 feet above you.” (America’s Holy Ground, p. 201-202)

Think about what that single tree has withstood…
Earthquakes.
Wildfires.
Drought.
High Winds.
Humans.
And still it remains standing.

What can we learn from trees like this?
What lessons do they have to teach us?

I think the first lesson is that you have to have strong roots and a firm foundation upon which to stand.
Imagine the depth and the breadth of the structure that is required to support such an immense tree.
For millennia those roots have sunk deep into the rocky soil, pushing water and nutrients up the trunk to provide growth.
Without a strong foundation, it would topple over and collapse.

And we are the same way.
Without the foundations in our lives that give us support and structure, we, too, would collapse.
These verses from the gospel of Matthew come at the end of three chapters filled with instruction and encouragement about how we should live in the world.
The “Sermon on the Mount” teaches us what it means to be truly blessed…
That the Kingdom belongs to the hungry, the hopeless, and the grieving…
the humble, the harassed, and the peacemakers
Jesus tells us how to share God’s love with others…
And he stretches our understanding of the law so that it is fulfilled not by adhering to the letter, but the spirit…
He reminds us that it is not enough not to kill, we should not even be angry at one another…
That we should not simply refrain from adultery, we should not objectify others…
Turn the other cheek…
Love your enemies…
Stop showing off your faith for others and actually turn to God…
Don’t worry about yourself, but seek God’s kingdom…
Don’t judge others, but pay attention to the fruit you are producing in the world…

And then Jesus concludes this amazing teaching by saying:
“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life… improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on.” (7:24 MSG).
These are not adornments or afterthoughts.
These are the roots.
This is the foundation.
This is the solid rock upon which everything else rests.
If these principles have not already formed the basis for our faith, for our lives, for our souls… then when the winds and rain and conflict and turmoil come our way… of course it will all fall apart.
Without a deep commitment towards others, a deep well of mercy and forgiveness, a deep sense that God is with us in the midst of anything we face, we will “become disoriented, unsteady, and unsure.” (p.203)
We will become angry and reactive and defensive when the winds of change or turmoil or conflict begin to blow.

And if that is how you are feeling in your own life… then we can start by shoring up those foundations.

We have to care for our own bodies and minds.
Just recently, we sent home to our families a “Guide to Self-Care” in the midst of this pandemic.
It contains very simple reminders of things we can do like get enough sleep, take time for friends, leave room for our feelings, and breathing.
There can be so much pressure and stress blowing in our lives right now and these simple things ground us in the moment.

We also can turn to and remember our own history and the people who have come before us.
Today, on Father’s Day, we are invited to remember the wisdom of our fathers and grandfathers and generations past who have taught us how to get through difficult moments.
From simple things like how they helped us to get back on the bike when we fell off…
To their own experiences with the civil rights movement, or how they responded to the polio epidemic, or how they kept going in the midst of a loss in their life…

Our forefathers, our ancestors, those roots of our family tree… they are a source of love and hope and strength during these tough times.

And then, we need to strength our faith foundations.
Turn to scripture.
Spend time in prayer.
Join a small group to re-center your faith.
Nurture the roots, the foundation, the ground in which you live and move and have your being.
That was Paul’s prayer for the church in Ephesus.
He was seeking to strengthen their faith and help them withstand whatever controversies or oppression they might face and so he prayed that God might give them strong roots in love.
He prayed that they would open their hearts and allow Christ to make a home there.
He believed that this would create a firm foundation of rooted and grounded faith. That it would build deep sustained roots would allow them to be able to grasp the width and length and height and dept of God’s love.
And he believed with these strong foundations, these amazing roots, that God could do amazing, miraculous, holy and wonderful things through the church.
That is my prayer for you, too.
That our own foundation and roots might be strengthen by one another and by God so that no matter what comes our way, our faith and our community will not topple.

But the other lesson that I think we have to learn from these trees is that what can appear to adversity can actually be the source of new life. We are learning that strong roots and solid foundations provide resiliency in the midst of storms that creates new opportunities.

I learned this week that giant sequoias need wildfires in order to continue as a species.
They are remarkably fire-resistant… some with bark up to thirty inches thick.
But more than that – without the intense heat of the fire, the sequoia cones cannot open to release their seeds.
Fire also clears away any of the clutter and overgrowth on the forest floor, creating space for seedlings to germinate and survive.

I think some of what we are seeing in our world today feels like that dangerous wildfire coming at us faster than we can run.
There is a lot of anger and frustration spilling out and we don’t know how to put it out or stop it or what to do with it.
But maybe it is a question of reframing.

First – where have I become afraid or anxious or reactive when I am actually more protected and safer than I thought?
Adam Hamilton reminds us in his book, “Afraid” that facts are more important than fear.
Taking the time to get the facts, to understand another perspective, to prepare yourself and create a plan… all of these are ways we can build up that think bark of protection that allows us to stand resilient in the midst of the turmoil.

Second – What is being revealed that we couldn’t see before with all of the clutter? As we notice things related to the coronavirus, or racism, or institutional and systemic practices… sometimes we get frustrated that they were not brought up or handled before.
But some things can only be seen in moments of chaos and conflict when everything else is cleared out of the way.
This moment has helped families to find respite from their busy schedules.
It has helped us to recognize the lonely and vulnerable who are our neighbors.
It has uncovered some of the problems with how we interact with one another we were too busy or distracted to see.

Third – we are seeing the seeds of this time and changes and new life and opportunities springing up all around.
Common sense reforms that make communities and police officers safer.
Real conversations about our history of racism.
We are building new ways of reaching out to one another like our caring connections groups.
Even online worship opportunities are impacting more people than we ever would have done had we remained within our walls.

God does not promise that wind and fire and turmoil and conflict will not come our way.
They most certainly will.
But God has invited us to claim a faith, to be grounded in love, to build our lives upon a firm foundation that can weather the woes of the world.
And with God’s help… with Christ living in our heart… with the Spirit providing strength… we lives we have built will not fall apart.
As Paul writes:
Glory to God in the church!
Glory to God in the Messiah, Jesus!
Glory down all the generations!
Forever and always.
Amen.

You Have (Are) a Gift

Posted on June 14, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Romans 12:3-8

As we start off this morning, I want you to find a blank piece of paper… or if you are on Zoom or Facebook, type in the comments or chat window.

I want you to think of one thing that you are personally good at.

What is one thing that you know how to do and do fairly well?

Now… if we were together in the sanctuary, I’d have you turn to your neighbor. But, since we aren’t, I want you to share in the comments a few words about how you were able to use that skill or talent recently.

For example: one of my skills is that I can grow things. I set out some of my extra seedlings on the sidewalk in front of our house for our neighbors to take.

Take a minute to share and read one another’s comments!

Thank you all for sharing!

This week on our road trip across the United States, we find ourselves in northwest Washington at Olympic National Park.

With nearly a million acres of land, spanning a huge range of landscapes and precipitation, it contains so many different ecosystems that the largest concentration of life on the planet is found here!

You can explore seventy miles of coastline with whales and puffins and oysters, driftwood from ancient trees, and the ever present ebb and flow of the ocean…

A tree in a forest

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Or make your way inland through old growth rainforests where 12-14 feet of rain fall each year. Centuries old hemlocks, threatened species like the northern spotted owl, mosses and ferns as far as your eyes can see…

Or maybe you want to climb to the top of glacier-capped mountains where golden eagles and Olympic marmots play among the alpine wildflowers…

All in one spectacular park.

But the balance between each of these seemingly separate and distinct elements cannot be ignored.

As the National Park site describes, “Olympic National Park takes an ecosystem approach to management. We believe that the health and survival of individual species depends on the health of entire habitats.” https://www.nps.gov/olym/learn/threatened-and-endangered-species-of-olympic.htm

To put that in our own faith language… the health of any part of the body depends on the whole.

And every unique part of that habitat, or ecosystem, or body of Christ has an important and distinct function.

Each one is necessary.

Each one is valued.

Each one matters.

I want you to think back to that skill or gift that you mentioned earlier.

Maybe it is a skill that you trained long and hard to learn, or maybe it is a gift that came naturally for you.

Whatever it is, it is something you see within yourself.

Hanging on to that gift in your mind, I want you to hear what Paul writes to us from Romans chapter 12.

You see… he continues his message from last week about what it means to be connected to Jesus Christ.

Hear these verses again from the Message translation:

I’m speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you.

Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it’s important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God.

No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.

This gift that you have identified within yourself… it does not represent something that you own or possess or even have control of.

It represents something that God has given to you.

It represents a part of God’s plan for this world.

It represents one way in which the Body of Christ, the church, is called to share the love of God.

Have you ever thought about your gift that way?

Have you ever thought about how your baking or knitting or carpentry was a part of God’s plan for this world?

Or how your mechanical skills or photography or singing could bring the love of God to your neighbors?

Or how your laughter or negotiating skills or sense of direction could be used to share the gospel?

How your mathematical sensibility or your hard work or your ability to listen is an integral and important part of the church?

Or is your first response whenever the call of Jesus Christ comes to look around and say, “who, me?”

When I was in junior high and high school I loved speaking in front of people.

I was always the first with my hand up when it came time to read out loud in class.

I tried out for every play and musical.

I signed up for speech contests.

I competed, I practiced, I simply loved doing it.

Speaking in front of people came easily to me.

It was never something I had to think twice about.

I knew that in whatever field of work I chose, this skill would be useful.

It was something in the background, something I could fall back on, something I never had to think that much about.

But one day in college, I was asked to prepare a sermon for our campus worship.

Easy-peasy… I had written speeches before.

And I had preached before as a part of my youth group.

I didn’t worry too much about it.

In the midst of the preparation however,

in the midst of my wrestling with the text and really trying to find God in the middle, something in me clicked.

I realized that I wasn’t just writing another speech…

I was sharing God’s love with people.

I wasn’t up there acting or putting on a persona…

this was real.

This is what I was made for.

God wanted me to share his good news with people.

God created me to do this!

As Paul tells the people of Rome and by extension us… we are like the parts of a body, parts of a vital ecosystem.

We get our meaning from the body as a whole – our gifts and skills find their purpose only in relation to these other people and parts of God’s family.

Each one of you matters to this body of Christ.

Each one of you has something unique and amazing to offer to the world.

God has created us for this!

I want you to think for just a second about what this church would be like if someone like Rick stopped playing guitar…

or Wendell stopped fixing things…

or Sherrie stopped calling on neighbors…

or Ella stopped serving…

or Becky stopped asking amazing questions…

or Hope stopped reaching out to friends…

What would happen if I decided to keep my gifts to myself, instead of sharing them?

Think long and hard about that gift you claimed earlier.

You have something unique and beautiful and powerful to offer.

You are called by God to do amazing things.

Yes, YOU.

Today, we are welcoming three new people into professing membership of the United Methodist Church.

We are witnessing Becky, Ella, and Hope claim their roles and their gifts as part of this Body of Christ.

Their gifts join together with all of the other ones in our vibrant and rich ecosystem.

Our congregation is filled with teachers and accountants and musicians and creators and parents and builders and leaders and servants…

We are stronger and healthier and more vibrant because each and every one of you are part of us.

As Paul writes:

since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ’s body, lets just go ahead and be what we were made to be.

In everything you do,

in everything that you offer,

from the moment you wake up until the moment your head hits your pillow at night,

ask how God can use you.

Take those gifts you have and share God’s love

through every goodbye you make in the morning

and every meal you deliver to the elderly in our community

and in every car your fix

and in every meeting you have at work.

Share the good news through every post you make on facebook

and every class you have at school

and in every game you play.

Do what you do with integrity, with love, with compassion.

Paul breaks it down like this:

If you help, just help, don’t take over; if you teach, stick to your teaching; if you give encouraging guidance, be careful that you don’t get bossy; if you’re put in charge, don’t manipulate; if you’re called to give aid to people in distress, keep your eyes open and be quick to respond; if you work with the disadvantaged, don’t let yourself get irritated with them or depressed by them. Keep a smile on your face.

We are the body of Christ.

We are his living, breathing, hands and feet in this world.

In everything we do… let God shine through.

The Fragility of our Connection

Posted on June 7, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Philippians 2:1-8

Arches National Park is perhaps one of the most iconic and picturesque of the spots we will visit.
Three hundred million years ago, give or take, this land lay beneath an ocean. With the ebb and flow of the waters, salt deposits built up hundreds of feet thick.
Eventually, pressure turned some spots turned into sandstone. But as water eroded away the salt but not the harder rock, sandstone was left hanging over these empty gaps, leaving nearly 2,000 arches (America’s Holy Ground, page 31).

But as we mentioned as we began today, these arches are not sturdy or solid. Landscape Arch has seen a number of collapses and Wall Rock Arch fell apart one night in a huge pile of boulders in 2008.
They were formed under pressure and eventually pressure from the elements and human interaction will cause these connections to crumble.

When we planned this series, I wanted to focus on the strength of our connections, but I must confess that yesterday as I was thinking about this sermon I spent most of my day weeping.
Because the connections between us in this nation have never felt more fragile.
Because the tension in the air is palpable.
Because every post or story feels like to fans the flames of division.
And while I try to do better, and be better, I’m guilty of it, too, as I think about conversations I’ve had this week.
I so desperately want to be able to find words to make things okay, to soothe the wounds of our relationships, to seek peace, and there isn’t anything I can say.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are black, indigenous, or people of color.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are law enforcement.
There is too much that is broken and has already crumbled.
We can’t look away and pretend we didn’t see.
There is too much work that has to be done to acknowledge the pain and to hold one another accountable before we can even begin to live in peace.

This Sunday is Peace with Justice Sunday in the United Methodist Church.
Our Social Principles remind us that, “As disciples of Christ, we are called to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. “ ¶165.C
As I have heard chanted at various rallies… not just this past week after the killing of George Floyd, but anywhere faithful people show up to seek change:
“No Justice. No Peace.”
As we state for this day, “…political and social turmoil can be caused by a number of issues including economic disparity, environmental degradation, gender inequality, racism and xenophobia, and illness and disease. If we want peace, we must be committed to disrupting these conditions and systems that perpetuate injustice.” (https://www.umcjustice.org/what-we-care-about/peace-with-justice)

Next week, our confirmands will stand up and claim their baptismal vows.
Not only will they take responsibility for turning away from their own sin and failings…
They will claim the freedom and power God gives them to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.
We wrestled together with what that means, and all of their questions really got me thinking about what it looks like for me to claim that freedom and power, too.

What does it look like for us to resist those systems of injustice?
How do we begin?
How do we create the conditions for peace?
How do we seek justice?
How do we strengthen our fragile human connections?

There isn’t anything I can say in one sermon that can undo or fix systemic racism.
But we can talk about what each of us can do right now in our own personal relationships.

I found myself turning to Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
The church was experiencing a quarrel between two of their members – Euodia and Syntyche. We don’t know the details, but it had the potential to tear the church apart.
And so Paul writes to them these words… this is the Message translation:

“If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ,
if his love has made any difference in your life,
if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you,
if you have a heart,
if you care –
then do me a favor:
Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends.
Don’t push your way to the front;
don’t sweet-talk your way to the top.
Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead.
Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage.
Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.
Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself…
he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave…” (Philippians 2:1-7)

When there is conflict and division in the world, the only way we can overcome it, Paul writes, is by putting ourselves to the side.
We have to start focusing on what is good for the other person.
We have to humble ourselves.
We have to stop and pause and focus on the love we have for Christ and other human beings FIRST.
That is the agreement that Paul is talking about… that we would agree in Christ. That we would agree to be like Christ. That we would agree to look upon one another with love.

I find it interesting in the message translation that Eugene Peterson uses the word “privilege” to describe how Christ emptied himself of his status as equal with God.
The Greek word Paul uses here, rooted in kenosis, describes what it means to divest yourself of what rightly belongs to you.
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could reconcile with us…
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could repair the broken connection with humanity…
The only way…
Was for Jesus to set aside his privilege and power and status and to become one of us.
And then, to set aside his life and to die for us.

Paul sees the division in that community, sees the conflict between these two women, and he asks them to be like Christ.
The only way we can have reconciliation and peace is if we let go of trying to be right.
We have to stop focusing on what is best for ourselves and start asking what is right for others.
I think it is important to note here that not all power and privilege is equal.
Jesus took on the status of a slave… and for slaves, for the oppressed, for those suffering injustice… there is no lower for them to go. There is no power to relinquish.
So part of adopting the mind of Christ is becoming aware of the systems in our society that have created differences in the way people are treated and the advantages they have.
We have to look at the ways inequalities are slowly but surely eroding the connections that we have built with one another.
How are our health systems, education systems, economic systems creating the conditions for life for our neighbors?
Where we benefit unequally from those systems, we are not called to dig in deeper, but to work to help others get ahead.

When Paul asks us to put on the mind of Christ, he is asking all of us to equate ourselves, to humble ourselves, to make ourselves lowly.
To walk in the shoes of those who have nothing left to lose.
To listen.
To learn.
When we live this way… putting others first, setting ourselves to the side… it has a transformative impact on the rest of the world.
As Paul goes on to write in the next verses, again this is the Message translation:

“Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving Message into the night…” (2:14-16)

We are to carry this mind of Christ with us everywhere we go.
In the letters we write to legislators.
In the attitude we strike towards those who disagree with us.
At the ballot box.
In the places we chose to shop.
With our families.
In the ways we stand up for those who are crying out for justice.

Think of yourself as Christ thought about himself.
And think of others the way Christ thought of them.
If we can start there, we have taken one step towards peace and justice.
And every step strengthens our connection.
May it be so. Amen.

The Breath of the Spirit (2.0)

Posted on May 31, 2020Leave a comment

note… the original sermon for Pentecost was written over 10 days ago because of staff vacations and our own pre-recording for worship in the age of Covid-19. But I couldn’t rest with this sermon and felt the Spirit keep nudging me to talk about how breath this past week has been stolen from so many… so here is the update God put on my heart this morning.

Text: John 3:1-8

Most of us are familiar with the story of Pentecost from Acts.

As the crowds gather in Jerusalem for the Feast of Weeks, fifty days after Passover, the disciples of Jesus were also in town. Suddenly, the Holy Spirit rushes in, sounding like a violent wind and appearing as tongues of fire.

And then, the Holy Spirit empowers the disciples to reach out and speak to all who gather around, each able to hear in their own native language.

Three thousand people give their lives to Christ that day, receive the Holy Spirit, and the church is born.

Just six weeks before, those disciples had been gathered together behind locked doors. We heard this message right after Easter and also last week from Bishop Deb. Jesus is resurrected and shows these frightened disciples his hands and side and then he breathes on them, giving them the Holy Spirit. He offers them peace and sends them into the world.

This wasn’t the first appearance of the rushing, flowing, creative, breath of God.

In the first verses of our scripture, God’s breath, wind, Ru’ach, sweeps across the waters as the world is being shaped.

And in the second chapter of Genesis, God scoops up a handful of topsoil and forms it into a human being. Then, God breathes life, Spirit, into its nostrils.

Birth and creation and the Spirit go hand in hand.

And wherever the Spirit shows up, the finite and the infinite are closer together.

Our very first stop on our summer road trip is Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota.

For the Lakota people, their story of emergence into this world is connected with this sacred place. Emergence in this tradition is not creation per se, but when their people came to the surface and emerged from the spirit realm.

Their story begins in a time when the plants and animals were being brought into existence, but there were no people or bison living on the earth.

The cave itself, is known as Oniya Oshoka, the place where the earth breathes. This cave is believed to be a passageway between the spirit world and the surface.

The Creator instructed their ancestor Tokahe to lead the people through the passage when the earth was ready for them. When they emerged, they saw the hoof print of a bison who had come before and were told by the Creator, “follow the buffalo track and you will have what you need.”

Then the Creator shrunk down the entrance to the passageway, leaving it as a reminder of where they had come from.

As a child, my family traveled through the Black Hills in South Dakota for our family vacation one summer.

Yes, in this picture my brother and I ARE handcuffed together. You see, we made a stop at Wall Drug and got some of those novelty handcuffs… and when we got out to take this picture we couldn’t find the key!

However, we never found our way to Wind Caves.

In fact, it most people traveling through the area probably would have been unaware of the intricate network of caves just below the surface. The opening from the Lakota Emergence Story is just a small hole where the wind moves in and out.

In 1881, the Bingham brothers were traveling by and heard the sound of a blowing wind, even though it was an incredibly calm day. They sought out the source and the wind blew one of the brother’s hats right off!

Many came to see the sight and explore the caves and in 1903 it was officially designated as a National Park. It is one of the largest cave systems in the entire world and still has not been fully mapped!

Scientifically, changing barometric pressure causes the air to move through this the small natural entrance to Wind Cave.

Yet that unseen force, that natural in and out, reminds us of the breath of life blown into Adam’s nostrils.

It reminds us of the wind hovering over the waters.

It reminds us of Jesus breathing the Spirit of peace upon the disciples.

It reminds us of the birth of the church!

And as fundamentally as our own life depends on every breath in… and breath out… our life in God depends upon the flowing of that Rua’ch, Pneuma, Spirit in our own lives as well.

Think about your own breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

That breath sustains you every minute of every day.

But how often do you really notice it?

The air entering your lungs.

The muscles moving as it leaves again.

The oxygen moving to every red blood cell.

I must admit I’ve been thinking a lot more about my breath this week.

I’ve been thinking about it after seeing those images of George Floyd struggling to breathe on the ground.

As a white woman, I confess that when Eric Garner cried out that he couldn’t breathe and died in police custody in 2014, I was upset for a little bit.

But my life went back to normal.

Lord have mercy.

Hear my confession that nothing in my life changed, when I could have breathed in your Spirit and could have spent these last six years building capacity and standing up against racism in our community.

The anger and frustration we see spilling out on the streets is a direct result of the fact that nothing has changed.

That what is normal is the systemic racism embedded in the fabric of our country.

I’ve been thinking about my breath every time I check the daily numbers of coronavirus cases and deaths here in Iowa.

Because of the essential nature of their work, the virus is disproportionately impacting our black and brown neighbors here in Iowa.

But I also think about the stories of children in the documentary “The Human Element” who couldn’t breathe because of asthma. The film explored a school in a neighborhood with a lot of industrial pollution where so many of its children have this disease they have an entire asthma protocol.

We are so busy prioritizing livlihoods over lives we can’t hear the people in our community telling us that they can’t breathe.

My insides are just twisted from grief and anguish.

It is Pentecost and it is 2020 and it feels like the world is on fire.

Maybe you feel the same.

Our gospel lesson for this morning comes from very early in the gospel of John.

Enter Nicodemus.

He was part of the ruling class in Jerusalem.

He had done everything in his life right.

He was the epitome of privilege and power.

And I think he felt like his world was on fire.

He knew that something had to give, something had to change, knew that there was something he wasn’t seeing.

And he was scared.

He was scared for others to know what he was wrestling with or how he felt…

In some ways, he was waiting to emerge…

So he goes to Jesus under the cover of night to have a conversation.

What he hears surprises him.

Jesus tells him that unless he is born anew, born from above, re-created… Nicodemus will not be able to see the Kingdom of God.

It’s as if he is telling him, as long as you remain hidden, in the dark, under cover…

As long as you are comfortable with things as they way they are…

If you refuse to let go and leave behind what you know…

Then you’ll never really experience God’s Kingdom.

Nicodemus takes Jesus literally and tries to figure out what it means to re-enter his mother’s womb…

And that is when Jesus brings the Spirit back into the conversation.

We emerge…

We are recreated…

We are born again…

We wake up…

We are able to see and know and participate in the Kingdom of God only by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus invites Nicodemus to set aside his privilege and power and to let the power of God fill his life and guide his actions instead.

And just like that very first breath in Adam’s nostrils brought him to life, when the Holy Spirit moves into our bodies and minds and souls, we come to experience a life that we couldn’t even comprehend before.

God breathes into our lives and changes everything.

All around us, our neighbors can’t breathe.

They can’t breathe because systemic racism is holding them down.

They can’t breathe because of pollution.

They can’t breathe because of an uncontrolled virus.

They can’t breathe because of hatred and frustration.

And I am taking a good long look at my own life today and thinking about all of the ways that I have directly or indirectly contributed.

How have I stifled the breath of God?

How have I kept that life-giving breath from entering their lives?

Where do I need to emerge, wake up, be born again?

As Tim Nafziger writes, “Jesus understand that power warps the way you view the world. The more power, the greater the warp. Being born again is what it takes to start seeing things again in their proper light.”

It all feels so impossible.

It feels overwhelming.

The grief, the division, the anguish is palpable.

But you know what… it was for the disciples, too.

When I initially wrote this sermon, I said that on the day of Pentecost they were in Jerusalem celebrating.

But how can you celebrate when your leader has been executed by the empire?

How can you celebrate when you are still angry and frustrated and grieving?

It had to have felt impossible and overwhelming and they had to have still been afraid.

And that is when the Holy Spirit showed up.

Showed up with fire and with wind.

Turned the world upside down.

No doubt, some in that crowd had just fifty-three days before been crying out “Crucify Him!”

But the Holy Spirit showed up and they could see now what they couldn’t see then.

Three thousand people were born again that day.

Three thousand people woke up to a new way of life and living in the Kingdom of God where you put your neighbors first and love is the greatest command and you share what you have and make sure no one is in need.

I think again about Nicodemus.

If we follow his story through the gospel of John, we find him again at the end.

No longer is he hanging out in the night.

He emerges into public view, in broad daylight, after the crucifixion of Jesus.

In a time when it would have been the riskiest for him to do so, the Spirit pushes him to the seat of power to ask for the body of Jesus.

He puts his own life on the line for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

In the midst of all that seems impossible, Come Holy Spirit!

Come and blow your life-giving breath among our communities once again!

Come and breathe into our lives so that we might see Your Kingdom.

Come Holy Spirit!

Cleanse us of all within us that keeps others from breathing.

Cleanse us of all that has kept us from experiencing your life.

Burn away the sins of racism.

Melt away our tendency to put profits over people.

Come Spirit and help us to see things in their proper light.

Help us to see ourselves in our proper light.

Help us to see our neighbors in their proper light.

Your light.

Your life-giving, life-sustaining, cup-runneth-over, abundant love for all light.

Empower us to be your church.

Not in a building, but right where we are… in our homes, our neighborhood, our work, our world.

Come Holy Spirit and help us to set this world on fire once again with love and grace and mercy and kindness and forgiveness.

Let’s pray…

Spirit of God may we breathe in and hold your love within us.

May we breathe out and share it with the world.

Spirit of God may we breathe in and hold your peace within us.

May we breathe out and share it with the world.

Spirit of God may we breathe in and hold your life within us.

May we breathe out and share it with the world. (Christine Sine)

Do you love me?

Posted on May 17, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 14:15-21

If you love me, you will keep my commandments.

If you LOVE me, you will keep my commandments.

Do you love God? Do you love Jesus? My heart wants to say, YES!, I do! Of course I do!

I love God with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength! Don’t I? Do I? Do you?

If you love me, Jesus says, you will keep my commandments.

I think all of us are really trying to love Jesus, but if we are honest with him… and with ourselves… we are probably not keeping them, obeying them, living them as well as we should.

Maybe we should back up a step. What commandment?

Well, this passage comes from the gospel of John and just a chapter before, Jesus sits down the disciples and shares with them this last meal and he tells them:“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

So…. If we love Jesus, then we have to love each other. And love each other in the way that Jesus loved us. I think we’ve been doing a pretty good job of that during this pandemic. You’ve been making phone calls and sending cards and checking in on each other. We’re making masks and picking up groceries and trying extra hard to be nice to the people we live with. We’ve taken care of each other as the church. And that’s a good thing.

But I also remember that John’s gospel is just one version of this commandment. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s gospels, Jesus tells us about the greatest commandment. A lawyer or a scribe comes up and wants to test him, so he asks what commandment in all of the scripture is the most important. What one law would sum up all the others? And there, we get some version of that phrase we know quite well: “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27, CEB)

This is where it gets a little harder. You see, our call isn’t just to love others in the church. Not just to love the people like us who do the same things as us. But to love our neighbors. Strangers. People we disagree with. Folks we can’t stand. Even when it is hard. Even when it is uncomfortable. Even when it puts our own freedom or lives on the line. Because that is how Jesus loved us.

These last few weeks, we have been exploring some of the resurrection stories of Jesus. Two weeks ago, we remembered how six of the disciples got in a boat to go fishing and Jesus showed up for the third time. When they dragged their catch to shore, there he was, waiting, with breakfast cooking on an open flame. But there is more to that story.

You see, after they eat, Jesus turns to Peter and asks him a simple question: “do you love me more than these?” Peter is a bit taken aback. He sputters out a response: “Yes, you know I love you.”

“Feed my lambs.”

It’s almost as if Jesus is pointing back to that conversation they had before his arrest… If you love me, keep my commandments. If you love me, take care of each other. If you love me, love your neighbor as yourself.

And it happens not once, not twice, but three times Jesus asks Simon Peter this question: “Do you love me?” And those three times are important. Because you see, three times, Peter turned his back on Jesus. Three times, Peter denied that he knew him. Three times, Peter chose to put himself before Jesus, before others.

Did Jesus turn away or cut him off? No… Jesus look at this imperfect, selfish, human being who finds it hard to keep his commandments… and keeps giving him another chance. Gave him the opportunity to redeem himself. A do-over.

We started out today thinking about whether or not we love God. Whether or not we are keeping the commandments. Whether or not we are loving others as much as ourselves. And we have fallen short. We haven’t always put that love into action. We’ve been selfish. We are human. And God keeps reaching out to us.

Today, you have a chance to show you love God by keeping his commandments. Whatever happened yesterday is in the past and if you offer it up to God it is forgiven and wiped clean. TODAY you can love God with your whole self by loving your neighbor as yourself. EVERY DAY you get a chance to start anew.

You know, here at Immanuel, when we talk about what it means to follow Jesus, what it means to be a disciple, we like to use three little words. Love, Service, and Prayer. In a way, it’s kind of how we sum up that great commandment. In everything we do, we try to make love, service, and prayer part of it. At the food pantry…. At Wednesday night supper… In small groups… In music rehearsals…In our interactions at school or work… Everywhere we go and in everything we do.

Today, we are marking the closing of another year of school at that means we have some high school seniors who are graduating. And one of the things about these young people is they get it.

They know who God is and they each, in their own way, are out there loving others and serving their neighbors, and prayer is an important part of who they are. And some of that is because they have amazing parents who have helped them to grow in their faith. But another part of that is because of you, the church. You’ve lived out what Jesus commands us in John.

[image of kindergarten bibles for Peter, David, Laurel, Ana, Rachel]

From the time they were knee high, you have been part of their lives, helping them to love, showing them how to serve, joining them in prayer. So thank you, for being a part of their journey…

They Recognized His Voice

Posted on May 3, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 10:1-4,10-11; 21:1-14

In these weeks after Easter, I’ve been spending a lot of my time reading and thinking about the resurrection appearances of Jesus.

They seem like a natural way to spend our time… as we find ourselves looking for signs of resurrection and hope in the midst of our own time of difficulty.

What surprised me as I turned to the lectionary, however, is that this year, our readings take us not on a journey with the disciples AFTER Easter, but take us back to Jesus debating with the Pharisees and teaching the disciples about what it means to be a shepherd.

This week in our bible study, we talked about the hopes of people in the time of Jesus for the coming Messiah. One of the primary metaphors the prophets used was that of a shepherd.

Moses prayed that God would anoint someone who would lead the people so they wouldn’t be like sheep without a shepherd. (Numbers 27:15-17)

Ezekiel shared God’s promise that his people would not be scattered forever, but that a single shepherd from the line of David would be sent to feed them. (34:5,23)

As the Pharisees start to test Jesus and push on the edges of who he said he was, Jesus responded that he was the Good Shepherd.

The shepherd who would call the sheep by name and bring them in and lead them out.

The shepherd who would bring abundant life.

The shepherd who would lay down his life for the sheep if necessary.

You know… not many of us have grown up around sheep.

And even if we have, the way we might shepherd today in the west is very different from how they would have done it in Jesus’ day.

So how about a little ancient shepherding 101?

First, where we might herd our sheep, pushing them towards their destination with dogs or other animals to aid us, the shepherd’s of Jesus day would have led their flocks.

He would have stood near the front, in their midst, and where he walked, they would have walked.

Wherever he went, they would go.

The sheep would have known his voice, the voice of the one who protected them… and would also have known the voice of a stranger who might harm them.

When their names were called by their gentle shepherd, they would go.

As I read more about sheep this week, I learned that they are smarter than we give them credit for.

Sheep have excellent long-term memories. In fact, in a study, a group of animals was shown pictures of the faces of other sheep. When presented with some, they were given treats, but with others nothing.

Time and time again, when presented with a choice between a face that produced a treat and a face that produced nothing, they knew the difference.

They recognized the faces of other sheep.

Sheep carefully discern who they can trust…

Who will seek the best for them…

And once they recognize that person, they will follow them anywhere.

Fast-forward through Jesus ministry with me for a bit.

Past Palm Sunday and the trial and crucifixion…

Past the days of fear and trembling for the disciples where they were huddled up in their homes… or had scattered to the winds…

Past the rumors of resurrection…

Past even those first two appearances to the uncertain disciples.

John’s gospel tells us that a few weeks out from the resurrection, the disciples are tired of hiding.

They are tired of being scared.

They don’t know yet how this whole resurrection thing has really changed their lives.

They want to return to a normal life… but they aren’t sure what that means.

Do we go back to the life of ministry when we were following Jesus? Or do we go back to whatever time there was before?

Peter suddenly stands up one day and proclaims, “I’m going fishing.”

It’s what he knows how to do.

And it’s something to do.

So five other disciples decide to go with him and spend the whole night on the boat.

They catch absolutely nothing.

But to be honest, it was probably nice to just be out.

To breathe in the fresh air.

To look up at the stars.

To reflect and ponder and wonder what was going to come next.

You see, they were feeling a little lost.

Jesus was alive, but he wasn’t there.

Some of them had scattered.

They didn’t know where to go next or what to do.

They were like sheep without a shepherd.

But as dawn began to break, they looked to the shore and saw someone standing there.

A voice carried over the water: “Have you caught anything?”

No, they hadn’t.

Their nets were empty.

“Cast your net on the right side and you’ll find some.” The voice called back.

Whether or not they could fully recognize the voice, they could recognize the command.

You see, they had been on boats before.

They had been asked to trust, and have faith, and cast their nets one more time before.

They had witnessed the miracles of abundance when they could barely pull them in because they were so packed with the catch.

Can you imagine how their hearts must have started beating?

Can you feel the adrenaline?

They tossed their nets and they literally couldn’t bring the net back up it was so full.

They knew his voice.

They knew their shepherd.

They knew this was Jesus.

And Peter simply can’t contain himself but dives in the water and heads straight for the shore.

The rest of the disciples follow, dragging both the boat and the net with them.

Before they have even stepped on dry land, there is a fire and fish cooking for breakfast.

You see, the Good shepherd provides for his flock.

Provides safety and comfort.

Food and warmth.

I love this line from John 21:12 “None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ They knew it was the Lord.”

The sheep know the sound of their shepherd’s voice.

They recognize his face.

They know who he is by the provision he offers… both the abundance in their nets and the meal set before him.

You know, I think we, like the disciples, are eager for a little bit of normalcy.

Unsure of what comes next, we might want to rush back into exactly what had been.

We want to get back to places and people that brought us joy. Like this video that you sent in of a beautiful afternoon on a lake…

[video, then back to camera]

For you, it might not be fishing, but it might be going into work…

Sitting in your classroom…

Hanging out with friends…

Joining together in ministry…

Gathering with your family…

Heck, even commuting is starting to look good these days!

The disciples were scattered and lost and unsure and so they turned first to what they knew.

They got in a boat and cast out a net.

But you know what, Jesus had called them from that life once before.

He gave them a glimpse of something different.

Something better.

He gave them a purpose that was beyond what they had known.

Beyond the familiar.

Beyond the comfortable old routines.

He gave them authority and power.

He took their gifts and transformed them.

To simply go back is not what our shepherd has in mind.

No, Jesus doesn’t want that old life… Jesus wants us to experience abundant life.

He wants everything that was to be transformed by what he is offering.

And as soon as they see their shepherd, they know it.

They know that there are things they have learned along the way that have changed them.

They know they are different than when they started.

They know that they are being led in a new direction.

They can see the abundance that awaits if only they have the courage to follow.

I’ve been thinking a lot about these times.

Will we head right back to what is familiar when this is all over?

Or will we patiently wait for the voice of Christ to lead us?

You see, our Good Shepherd is watching over us.

Right now, he is leading us through this valley of the shadow of death by keeping us safely within the fold… in our homes and with our family.

Through the kindness of our neighbors and strangers, we have been able to find still waters and green pastures.

Even in the face of our enemies of illness and isolation and even death, our shepherd is setting a table of abundance.

Abundant kindness.

Abundant time with the people who are closest to us.

Abundant creativity.

The cup is overflowing it is so full.

Will we allow ourselves to be filled up in this time of shelter and safety?

And when the gate opens, will we not just rush out, heading our own way, going back to what is familiar, but will we let the shepherd lead us?

Stand in the midst of us.

Guide us.

Will we listen to his voice?

May it be so.

Amen.

Behind Closed Doors

Posted on April 12, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 20:18-20

Almost every Easter, we focus on the tomb.

We focus on the women.

We spend all of our time and attention on that glorious moment when they discover the tomb is empty and Jesus is alive and they have a story to tell.

But this morning, I want to focus on the rest of the disciples.

As my friend, Rev. Allison Lanza, reminded me a few weeks ago, the rest of the disciples were not at the tomb.

They were not in the garden.

They were not taking risks and bringing oils to honor the body of their Lord.

As Rev. Lanza wrote,

“On the very first Easter the disciples were locked in their house. It was dangerous for them to come out… They were living in a time of such despair and such fear. If they left their homes their lives and the lives of their loved ones might be at risk.”

Only a few of us are able to gather here at this empty church to lead worship for this morning… just like only a few ever gathered to witness the empty tomb.

The rest of the disciples… the rest of the church… the rest of the faithful…

Well, you are home.

You are home where you are safe.

You are home where you are doing everything you can to protect your loved ones.

You are home because it is dangerous not just for ourselves, but for our vulnerable neighbors as well, to go out.

It is not irrational fear keeping you home… but very real concerns and worries and sensible measures that we need to take to care for one another.

This year, we may not be dressed up in fancy clothes and crowding into the pews.

One of our biggest disappointments might be missing out on that beautiful and delicious Easter Breakfast put on by VIM.

We aren’t watching the kiddos squeal and run past each other finding eggs and crashing after eating all the candy.

But maybe what we are experiencing this year is a glimpse into what that very first Easter was like for those who followed Jesus.

It wasn’t about candy or food or clothes.

It was a group of people who were grieving and lonely and scared.

They were heartbroken and frustrated.

Everything they had planned and all of the possibility vanished on the cross.

They were desperate for a glimmer of hope, a hint of good news, a ray of possibility.

We don’t have to imagine what that was like.

We are living it.

We have loved ones who have tested positive for Covid-19 and you are worried about them and unable to go visit.

We are longing for connection and know you shouldn’t risk it.

We are grieving people in our lives that we have lost but have been unable to go and properly mourn.

All of the plans that we had for this spring… concerts, games, graduation, weddings… heck, even simply barbeques or camping trips or playdates…

In the blink of an eye it was gone.

Postponed indefinitely.

We are desperate for a glimmer of hope, a hint of good news, a ray of possibility.

I have to be honest… somewhere early in the midst of this crisis, I suggested that we postpone Easter.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around Easter with the church filled up with people.

I couldn’t imagine laughing and singing and praising God and shouting CHRIST IS RISEN… without having all of you shouting it back to me.

And Easter is technically a moving holiday… we celebrate it on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox… which is another way of saying, it doesn’t matter what day it is.

So I got this idea that we should just wait and sit in Lent for a little while longer and postpone Easter until that Sunday when all of us could gather and hug and sing and shout and stuff our faces with food.

But then I realized… this was not going to be a delay of a week or two.

And maybe more than ever we need a glimmer of hope.

We need a hint of good news.

We need to see that ray of possibility.

Easter wasn’t cancelled or postponed or forgotten because the disciples were huddled together, shut behind locked doors, closed off to the world.

Easter wasn’t limited to the few people who were able to gather at the empty church… I mean tomb… on that morning.

Easter wasn’t simply a rumor or a story told by others.

And you know what, that first Easter wasn’t even something the disciples had to risk their own lives to go out and experience.

No, John tells us in his gospel account that even there amid the apprehension and uncertainty and fear, the miracle of Easter showed up.

The resurrected Jesus somehow slipped passed those dead bolts and latches and stood among them.

Right where they were.

In the safety of their homes.

God-with-us… Immanuel.

On Easter Sunday, there were a few who were called to go out and proclaim the story.

In some ways, I resonate with Mary, tasked with bringing the news from the empty tomb to share it with all of you.

But not everyone could.

Not everyone was safe.

Easter was for them, too.

I don’t know what your Easter will be like this year, but here is one thing for which I am certain.

God is with you.

The Lord of Life is with you.

The Hope of the World is in your midst.

And when he showed up with those first disciples in their homes, the first words he uttered acknowledge their… our… difficult reality.

“Peace be with you.”

He didn’t scold them.

He didn’t open the doors and push them out into the world.

Jesus offers a word of reassurance.

He simply offers peace.

Peace unlike any else that the world gives.

A breath of the spirit that reminded them of the words spoken just days earlier as they gathered around the table in the upper room.

“do not Let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27 NRSV)

“In the world you have distress. But be encouraged! I have conquered the world.” (John 16:33 CEB)

We sometimes think about peace as a calm.

Or as the absence of war.

But the Hebrew use of peace was an all-encompassing word of complete and total well-being.

It meant salvation.

It meant being “uninjured and safe, whole and sound.” [1]

Jesus stands in their midst, wounds still visible, and yet he reassures them that all is whole and well and that his earthly work among them is complete.

Jesus is our peace.

He is our shalom.

Through him, we are restored to God…

We are restored to one another…

And we are sent forth to restore the world…

My prayer for you, today, is that that same peace would show up in your homes.

That the Easter blessing of peace might find you wherever you are.

I pray that in spite of everything, you might be able to breathe in that gift of peace.

The apostle Paul knew a little something about being under house arrest, imprisoned, unable to go out and visit and care for those whom he had grown to love.

But even in a prison cell, the peace of Christ was with him.

And so his words to the people of Philippi, I share now with you.

⁴Rejoice^[^c^] in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.^[^d^] ⁵Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. ⁶Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. ⁷And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Wherever you are this morning, friends, let that Easter gift of blessed peace fill your lives. Amen.

[1] https://www.efca.org/blog/sunday-resurrection