Taste and See God’s Power

Text: Luke 24:28-32

One of my favorite experiences while on vacation just now was sharing tapas with Brandon at Jaleo – one of Chef José Andrés’s restaurants.

From a perfect slice of toasted bread, brushed with crushed tomatoes and garlic…

To an incredible dish of fried eggplant drizzled with honey and lemon…

And beautiful cauliflower roasted with dates and olives…

I left incredibly stuffed… and very happy. 

Food is my love language. 

Whether it is feasting with friends around a table, baking in the kitchen with my mom, breaking bread as a church family, or gathering over a potluck, food is about bringing people together. 

And the Bible is full of stories about food. 

As Margaret Feinberg reminds us in her book, Taste and See, “God handcrafted humanity to be dependent on food.  The Creator could have required us to survive on air or water apart from eating, but He designed the human body so food is not an option but a necessity. 

Even more delicious, God creates food as a source of pleasure… God imbues us with the ability to delight in eating.

But food in the Bible is more than a commodity to be consumed.  It is often sacred and symbolic, showing up both on tables and in temples… [it] plays a significant role in helping us taste and see God’s goodness in our lives… and something beautiful happens when we gather around the table.” (page 16-17).

I didn’t just want to eat at Jaleo because I knew it would taste good.

I also wanted to support the work of Chef Andrés. 

His organization “World Central Kitchen” proclaims that food is a universal human right.  He understands that food has the power to give dignity and life.

They are often the first to the frontlines, providing meals in response to humanitarian, climate, and community crises and WCK has served over 70 million fresh meals to people impacted by disaster around the world… including being on the ground in Poland as refugees were fleeing Ukraine the day after Russia invaded Ukraine. 

But this is not a dump of free food into a disaster area.  As WCK notes – “food is the fastest way to rebuild our sense of community.  We can put people back to work preparing it, and we can put lives back together by fighting hunger.  Cooking and eating together is what makes us human.”[1]

Food has the power to transform our lives. 

A piece of fruit reached for in the garden…

The sacrificial Passover lamb…

The manna from heaven…

The call for fishermen to lay down nets and become disciples…

The countless stories of people being invited, welcomed, fed…

The miracles of provision and healing and new life. 

Our scripture for this morning is just one instance of how lives are transformed and the power of God is proclaimed as people gather around a table. 

Two disciples have left Jerusalem after the crucifixion of Jesus.

They are despondent and grieving and aren’t quite sure what to do next. 

But along the way, the resurrected Jesus appears and walks with them.

They hear him, they see him, but they don’t know it is him.

But when they arrive at their destination, they offer to him all they have – a place to stay for the night and a place at their table.

We read that he took a seat by their side at that table.

And he took the bread…

And broke it…

And they ate it…

And suddenly, their eyes were opened and their understanding was transformed and they recognized Jesus right there among them.

They finally grasped the power of the resurrection… the miracle of new life… and the promise of all of scripture.

And it happened during a meal at a table.

In another resurrection story, some other disciples decided to go fishing. 

But all night long, distracted by their grief, they caught nothing. 

From the shore, they heard a voice calling out for them to toss their nets on the other side and suddenly the nets were so full they couldn’t pull them in! 

Feinberg spent some time on the Sea of Galilee and had the opportunity to catch what is known as the St. Peter’s fish… or an amnon – a type of tilapia. 

Because it feeds on plankton, this kind of fish can only be caught with a net, rather than a line. 

And, it’s the most delicious catch in the Sea of Galilee… and therefore also the most valuable.

She writes in her book that they had caught very few that day, until one of the fishermen saw them a little near the surface.

I always thought it was strange in the scripture of the disciples at the seashore on this resurrection morning that the scripture says one of them was naked, but as Feinberg describes it, once they saw these prized fish, they sprang into action and leaped out of the boat.  

Those who didn’t have fishing waders stripped down to their skivvies.

They marched through the shallow marshy water, setting a barrier between the beach and the sea with the nets and driving the fish in to be caught.

After just two hours, Margaret and her guides had 150 pounds of fish (p. 36-37).

The disciples themselves experienced a miraculous catch… and in this powerful moment,  they recognized it was Jesus calling out to them and rushed to come in for landing, dragging their own heavy laden nets behind them.

There, Jesus had breakfast ready.

Some fish on a fire and some bread. 

But more than that.

I can imagine that before that moment, Peter carried in his heart turmoil over how he had turned his back on God. 

He might even have started to believe that God had turned away from him. 

That meal was also about the power of transformation, for Jesus sat down with Simon Peter and turned his guilt over denying him into a call to ministry. 

“Feed my lambs.”

“Take care of my sheep.”

“Follow me.”

Margaret Feinberg writes that “if you search your everyday life for the presence of Christ, you’ll begin to see the extra provision, extra might, extra grace that he’s slipping you.  The way he provides an unexpected compliment from a friend.  Or a familiar face that you weren’t expecting in a crowded place.  Or a breathtaking sunset.  These displays of God’s power are good and beautiful, like the fish the disciples caught.  But the greatest miracle remains the one who sent them.” (page 45)

I know that our lives our busy. 

We might grab a granola bar and eat it in the car on the way to work or school. 

We eat  drive-thru for dinner between soccer games.

More of our meals are eaten in front of the television than around a table.

And yet, what better way to remember God’s power and provision than to take a moment to be thoughtful and grateful when we eat?

This week, I want to challenge us to stop and pray before every meal. 

It doesn’t have to be a long, spoken prayer. 

It can be a silent thought in your head.

Or maybe something that you share with your children around the table.

And I want to invite you to think about all of the ways that God’s power and provision have made that meal possible…

Think of the fields and the rain and the sun that were necessary to grow that food.

Remember the farmer and worker whose sacrifice of time made your meal possible. 

Look for who is sharing that meal with you or who you might be able to invite to pull up a chair.

As Feinberg writes, “eating reminds us that we cannot exist alone; we are created dependent on others…” (Small Group Book, p.31)

And not just in order to get a cracker from a field to your table.

Some of our deepest hungers are not for a morsel of bread, but for someone to truly seek us and know us.  To love us and forgive us and laugh at our stupid jokes. To listen and help us start down a path of healing. To remind us of who we are and to assure us that we have an important role to play in this world. 

In the ordinary and everyday meals that we share, we experience the extraordinary and transcendent power of God.

The power to create and sustain life.

The power to bring people together.

The power to open our eyes and call us to new ministries.

The power to feed and share and sacrifice in love. 

Friends, the psalmist invites us to “taste and see that the Lord is good.” 

As we worship together, and study together, and eat together over the next month or so, I think we will discover not just a new way of exploring scripture… but that God will transform how we see the extraordinary gifts of power and love that are all around us. 


[1] https://wck.org/story

The End of the World as we Know it.

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Text: Revelation 1:4-8

“It’s the end of the world as we know it… .

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

And I feel fine.”

More than fine, actually.

I feel hope.

I feel promise.

I am clinging to the love of God that is bursting forth alive in this world! 

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

As we journey together through this season of Easter, we are going to wade into the elusive and strange revelation shared by John of Patmos. 

United Methodist pastor and theologian, Magrey DeVega writes that this book can be used “as a guide to experiencing the resurrected life.  John’s vision allows us to see the world, the church, and the Christian life in the way God envisions it: not for how it is, but for how it can be.”  (A Preacher’s Guide to Lectionary Sermon Series, Vol. 2, p. 197).

The world as we know it, well, it is kind of a mess. 

As we lifted up in prayer already this morning, it is a world filled with hunger, violence, oppression, death, disease, and inequality. 

I can’t help but think of the opening of the seven seals in Revelation chapter 6, where four horsemen are unleashed with authority “to kill by sword, famine, disease, and the wild animals of the earth.” (6:8)

Persecution and natural disaster are close at hand (6:9-17). 

We may not know where to start interpreting or unpacking the verses of these texts, but we don’t have to look far to see the realities they present in moments of crises all around us. 

And you see… that is the thing about apocalyptic literature.

It is an unveiling of what is already there. 

The Greek word apokaluptein literally means to uncover.

It means to pull back the curtains and let the light in.

It is not necessarily a prediction of the future.

The prophets of our Old and New Testaments spoke God’s truth and power into their time and place as they point to God’s intentions and will for our lives.   

It is also a word from the one who is… and who was… and who is coming…

In that sense, they do point towards the future and the kind of actions and behaviors God is calling us to embody as we are formed into God’s people, made into a kingdom, set apart to serve. 

The prophets tell us the truth about the world as it is and beckon us to leave it behind…

No, not just that… they promise us that God is in the business of transforming the world as we know it into a new reality, a new creation, a new life centered on God. 

Sounds like an Easter kind of story to me. 

So why all the strange images and numbers and blood and violence?

What are we supposed to do with all of the weird stuff that we find within the Book of Revelation? 

I must confess that our series on Sunday mornings is not going to dive into all of the nitty gritty of every verse and metaphor and vision. 

We will skip large sections of this book.

And part of the reason for that is that it would probably take us a couple of years to really take the time in worship to do this right. 

But the other reason is that we don’t need all of the details about what this beast looks like or what is in the fourth bowl or what happens when the fourth trumpet sounds to understand the main point of the text.

As the authors of “Crazy Talk” describe it:  “No matter how bad it gets, Christ has already emerged victorious and because you are joined in the body of Christ, you will emerge victorious as well.” (Crazy Talk: A Not-So-Stuffy Dictionary of Biblical Terms)

What I can do are give you some tools to help think about and interpret the things that we will encounter as we read this text. 

The first tool that I want to give us is a key to decipher the meaning of the weird stuff that we find. 

I want you to think of it like a political cartoon.

In newspapers today, you’ll find images of donkeys and elephants and those of us living in the United States today can understand that it is not about animals, but about people and positions.

Take for example this political cartoon from World War II. 

It isn’t a literal depiction of a baby fighting a three headed giant… but depicts the U.S. as newly entering the war against the Axis powers, using the tools of our allies.   We are familiar enough with the images and dates that we can interpret the meaning. 

But if we were looking at a political cartoon from 100 years ago… or from Nigeria or New Zealand… we might have a harder time deciphering the meaning. 

Philip Long writes that when we look at texts like Revelation, “we need to cross two different boundaries.  We need to study the imagery in the proper time and in the proper culture… put it in the right era…. [and] know the cultural cues implied by the art.” (https://readingacts.com/2012/04/05/revelation-and-apocalyptic-imagery/

Knowing that the book of Revelation is from the late first century, written on a Greek island in a time where Christians were persecuted by the Roman Empire, we can start to unpack and interpret some of the vivid and dramatic imagery that we find.   

Numbers, for example, have meaning.

The number seven represents completion or totality… the sum of all of the heavens (3) and earth (4)… like the seven days of creation

Twelve represents God’s people… three times four… like the twelve tribes of Israel or the twelve apostles.

We can start to see the beasts as the empire of Rome and its allies and the throne is about where power ultimately resides. 

The second tool I want to give you is an orientation in time. 

I brought with me this morning a commentary on the book of Revelation that lays out at least four different ways that you can approach this text and then provides at least four different interpretations of a verse based on which approach you are taking. 

How many of us here have read “The Late Great Planet Earth” or the “Left Behind” series? 

Those authors and some preachers that you might have heard on the t.v. or radio, have a future orientation to the Book of Revelation.  They believe that it predicts things that will happen, but haven’t yet. 

Or maybe that are happening as we speak. 

But just as I wouldn’t take that political cartoon from WWII and use the metaphorical imagery to speak of future events, I don’t think this is the orientation we should take towards Revelation.

It might sell, but I’m not sure that it is truly faithful to the text.

And neither do the leading people who study the Book of Revelation. 

In his book “Making Sense of the Bible”, Adam Hamilton writes:  

“I’ve got ten commentaries on Revelation in my library, written by some of the foremost scholars to study this book, and every one of them holds some combination of the preterist and idealist perspectives. This is in stark contrast to the views of most television evangelists and many conservative preachers, who favor the futurist view. Most mainline scholars see the book as describing events of the author’s day.” (p.285). 

Now, he just threw some big words at us, but the “spiritual” or “idealist” view thinks that the book is timeless… that it uses metaphor to talk about how good and evil constantly battle in this world with the promise that God will ultimately win. 

The “preterist” view is oriented towards our past and John of Patmos’s present.

John isn’t reading tea leaves or telling the future, he is describing events that are happening as he is writing and speaking about how God is present in the midst of it. 

Many scholars hold those two in tension. 

They look back to what was happening in the time of John of Patmos… apocalyptic literature after all is about revealing what is there… but believe we can apply the themes of the text to the struggle between God and the powers of the world we experience and remembering that God will ultimately prevail.

This orientation is probably the most helpful to us today as we try to figure out what to do with this strange writing.     

Finally, I want to remind you to keep the main thing the main thing.    

The text we began with this morning from Revelation is a sort of overview or introduction to the themes that we will discover within the book. 

John of Patmos has received a word, a revelation, from Jesus Christ the slaughtered and risen Lamb and is sharing it with the world. 

The message is simple:  Jesus is coming and he will sit on the throne and the world and all its powers will not.  

Our work is to allow God to make us into a kingdom, to serve as priests, and give God praise. 

That’s it. 

Those are the basics of this entire book and it is the lens we can use to make sense of every verse we read. 

The locusts and plagues and persecution… the worst things will never be the last thing. 

And we have a choice about whether we will serve God and worship God or if we will choose to throw our lot in with the powers of this world that bring nothing but disaster and death. 

And friends, we know the end of the story! 

We know how it turns out! 

God wins!

Friends, this is a book of hope and love and life!

These aren’t meant to be texts of terror or designed to confuse or scare us. 

As Nadia Bolz-Weber writes,

“originally… apocalyptic literature —the kind that was popular around the time of Jesus—existed not to scare the bejeezus out of children so they would be good boys and girls, but to proclaim a big, hope-filled idea: that dominant powers are not ultimate powers. Empires fall.   Tyrants fade.   Systems die. God is still around.” 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/03/14/were-in-the-midst-of-an-apocalypse-and-thats-a-good-thing/

The world as we know it… with all its trials and tribulations…  is coming to an end, and we are fine.

More than that…  we have hope because it is all in God’s hands.

Graves into Gardens

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Text: Luke 24:1-12

Earlier this week, I was preparing for worship and listening to some of the music selected for our time of worship today.

And, friends, I’m going to be honest, I’m struggling a bit right now. 

I’ve got some family stuff that is heavy on my heart.

We’ve got some things to navigate as a church trying to increase our staffing and find our footing in the new normal of the world.

There is a big denominational conversation in limbo. 

I have been participating in a church leadership cohort on the topic of how to navigate being overwhelmed and one of the things I realized is that if I were trying to work and care for just one of those situations, it would be a lot. 

But when it feels like there are just so many pots on the stove, all needing attention lest they boil over… well, it is exhausting. 

And you know what, I know I’m not alone.

I’ve overheard those fragments of conversation happening in the halls of the church, or grocery store, or work or school…

We can all read between the lines of those social media posts that try to be cheery.

We are navigating transition and grief in our families… divorce, loss, moving mom to the care center…

We are experiencing struggles with health and finances.  

We watch the evening news and our hearts break. 

We keep waiting for things to get back to “normal” because we haven’t wrapped our heads around the way things have changed for good.

After a while, it all starts to add up. 

And we start to wonder where on earth God is in it all. 

And so there I was, trying to figure out what good news to proclaim this Easter Sunday, when a lyric from one of the songs that we are singing at the Conspire Service just hit me like a ton of bricks and I started to weep.

“The God of the mountain

Is the God of the valley

There’s not a place

Your mercy and grace

Won’t find me again.”

In that valley, in that muck, in the struggle… that is where God is.

God isn’t just a God of the good times and the successes. 

God is with us in the valley.

The valley of the shadow of death.

The valley of despair.

The rock bottom where it all feels like it has fallen apart.

That is exactly where grace and mercy find us. 

It is where it found the disciples on Easter morning.

You see, this day began in hopelessness and grief.

It began with fear of the unknown.

It began with the gloom of death. 

As we heard in the Gospel of Luke, Mary and Joanna, and Mary, and the other unnamed but faithful women who were with them went to the tomb.

They were bringing the spices and oils they had prepared to complete his burial ritual now that the Sabbath day was complete. 

They showed up to repeat a familiar ritual practiced by Jewish women for centuries. 

Everything they had known and believed had been pulled out from underneath them and there was nothing left to do but pray, mourn, and honor their teacher.

But through that valley of the shadow of death, grace found them.

When they arrived, the stone was rolled back from the tomb and the body of their Lord was gone. 

I can imagine the shock and confusion that paralyzed them.

What does it mean?

What has happened?

What do we do now?

But then angels suddenly appeared among them: Why are you looking for the living among the dead? 

They spoke once again the words Jesus had shared with them.

Promises of love that conquers death.

Words of hope for a life than cannot be defeated.

The truth that mourning would turn to dancing…

Shame into glory…

Graves would turn into gardens…

And in a moment of startling fear and overwhelming joy – a moment of holy awe – they remembered. 

Think about how many times the disciples… men and women alike… heard Jesus share words about his death and resurrection.

But they couldn’t understand the promise because they never believed it would happen.

They simply could not wrap their minds around the idea of his death, much less the impossible miracle of resurrection.

When Jesus shared his final meal with them on Thursday night they let him down and failed to remain faithful.

And when Christ was crucified on Friday afternoon, many were paralyzed by their unbelief and others simply stood at the cross in stunned grief.   

They couldn’t see past their own pain and fear and they forgot his promise!

But in one moment, all that Jesus said about life and death is suddenly made real to those women as they encountered that empty grave in the middle of a garden.

They rushed back to the disciples to share all they had experienced. 

And they didn’t believe the women. 

Couldn’t believe them.

It was nonsense, wishful thinking, confused thought. 

You know what, the world around us, just like those disciples in the upper room who first heard from Mary and Joanna and Mary Magdelene, believes that the resurrection is nonsense. 

It is wishful thinking.  Scientifically unproven.  Pie in the sky. 

And I have to be honest, there are days that I have my own doubts. 

I have an awful lot of questions, and maybe you do, too.

I can’t construct an argument for the resurrection of Jesus that makes sense to a rational mind.

I can’t point to evidence of its reality.

And when I’m down in the valley, stuck in the weeds, wallowing in grief, and holding the pain of the world in my heart, I often wonder where on earth it is. 

But I can tell you, as I borrow the words of Debie Thomas, that it is “the foundation of my hope.”

“Without the empty tomb,” she goes on to write, “without Jesus’ historic, bodily return to life two thousand years ago, I simply can’t reconcile God’s love and justice with the horrors I see in the world around me.  Death is too appalling a violation.  Evil is too ferocious an enemy.  Injustice is too cruel and endemic a reality.  Humanity, though beautiful, is broken beyond description. I need the empty tomb. I need the promise of resurrection.” 

There is so much in this world to feel hopeless and frustrated about, and honestly, I can’t get through it without God by my side. 

I can’t prove the resurrection.

But I need it to be true. 

I need to know that mourning will turn into dancing.

I need to hope that shame will turn into glory.

I need to trust that graves can become gardens. 

Standing here, surrounded by lilies, I have come to discover that the God of the mountain is the God of the valley and that the shadows of fear and despair have been scattered by light and love. 

The tomb is empty, the garden is in bloom, the Son has risen. 

Grace and mercy are pouring out into the world and I find the freedom and the power to believe.

I have faith that the resurrection is really and truly our reality. 

Faith is not just a pie in the sky wish. 

It isn’t something pretty we sing to bring comfort.

Faith is a verb: Go. See. Do. Lift Up. Put Down. Heal. Cast out. Bring in. Give. Receive.  Remember.

Faith is active.

Faith is out there in the world, sharing the healing love of God with others.

Faith is drying the tears of the grieving.

Faith is holding the hands of the sick.

Faith is that card of encouragement for the person whose life is falling apart.

Faith is planting bulbs as everything is dying, trusting they will bloom in the spring.

Faith is welcoming the stranger and throwing our arms open to embrace others.   

Faith is sacrificing our time and our talents and our abundance so that our neighbors might be fed. 

You see, the force of resurrection didn’t just bring Christ to life.

It transformed disciples into apostles.  

It brought the church into being.

It formed us together into the body of Christ, alive in the world, hands and feet and hearts to carry on the mission and the ministry. 

To keep planting the seeds of the kingdom.

To keep pouring out hope for a world in despair.

To keep fighting the weeds of injustice that threaten to take over.

We are here because those women went to the grave full of grief and sorrow and discovered a garden where hope and love and life was in full bloom.

And then they went from that place with faith and shared the good news with the world.

May the hope of the resurrection be the foundation of our faith and may it spill over into everything we say and do in this world.  Amen.

Return. Repair. Restore

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Text: Genesis 33:1, 3-5, 8-11;   John 21: 1-6, 9-11, 15-17

Oh friends, on this All Hallow’s Eve we find ourselves with two ghost stories of our scriptures…

Okay, okay, they aren’t exactly ghost stories.

But they are about people who were lost, left for dead, and cast out.

They are about relationships coming back from the brink of death.

They are about betrayal and reconciliation and forgiveness. 

About laying old demons and ghosts and mistakes to rest so that new life can burst forth.

And while we might not usually think about these two scriptures as stewardship material, both of them tell a story about the hurt and harm that comes when we prioritize our own economic and social well-being at the expense of others… and about the abundance of life we find when we allow God to restore us. 

The first story we heard this morning began with conflict in the womb! 

Two twin brothers vying to be first and for their place in the world. 

And when Jacob comes out second, clinging to the heel of his brother, Esau, he becomes the vulnerable one.

Only, Jacob… with the blessing of his mother… was not satisfied with his place.

He schemed to steal his brother’s birthright, blessing, and inheritance.

Jacob took what did not belong to him and damaged relationships and lives in the process. 

He has to flee for his life… which leads us to wonder if any of it was worth it. 

Many of our families have experienced pain and conflict and bickering when a loved one dies.

Who gets what, how things are divided, what was said in the will or what was promised… the tension and stress of these realities are compounded by grief that comes out sideways. 

I’ve experienced this in my own extended family and the heartbreaking division and separation that resulted and still has not been reconciled.

But the story of Jacob and Esau is not limited to a family squabble about inheritance.

It is also a story about how the happenstances of our birth: where and when we are born impact our ability to thrive in this world. 

It is a story about the unequal distribution of wealth and resources. 

And it is also a story about what happens when any party focuses on their own self-interest at the expense of others. 

This past week, I participated virtually as a director at the fall meeting of Global Ministries. 

As we celebrate ministry from everywhere-to-everywhere, we also celebrate the outpouring of compassion and love that is a key part of our mission.

And, I was reminded once again of the damage that inequity has not just on the vulnerable, but on the entire world. 

From climate change, to global migration, to the disparity in Covid-19 vaccination distribution, our lives are interconnected.

Any belief that we can procure and protect our own individual or national economic security without a ripple of consequences that impact others and ultimately come back to us is false. 

Our gospel reading is one of the resurrection stories that John records, but to fully understand its message we also must go back in time.

We return to the shoreline where a struggling fisherman heard the call to drop his nets and follow Jesus.

Peter’s life was transformed in that moment as he left behind his livelihood to embark on God’s mission at work in his life. 

Most of us could not make such a drastic and risky change in our lives and we cannot help but admire him for doing so.

And yet, even Peter, had moments where he put his own well-being and security above the call of Jesus in his life. 

In a moment where he could have stood up for his Messiah, Peter denied that he knew the Lord.

Not once.  Not twice.  But three times. 

He got tangled up in his own self-interest and the guilt and the shame haunted him. 

Even after experiencing the miracle of the resurrection, Peter wasn’t sure what to do with himself and instead of carrying on the ministry and getting to work, he acted like none of it had every happened.

He went back to business as usual and put his boat out to sea to catch some fish. 

I see in Peter’s story a journey that many people of faith have experienced. 

We have conversion moments and mountaintop moments along our faith journey that radically shift our minds and transform our hearts. 

We become more loving and generous and bold in our faith.

But there are moments that we become caught by those old fears or shame or selfish desires and we slip back into business as usual. 

Our energy and passion for God’s work in the world starts to wane.

Faith becomes about me, rather than we. 

We see this when folks burnout.

We see this when churches become inwardly focused and maintain the status quo.

We see this even in denominational conversations when the fears about the budget and funding lead us to cuts that eliminate vital ministries.  

And in all of those cases, our ministry becomes more known by arguments and complacency, rather than the life-giving power of Jesus. 

Imagine if that is where those stories each ended. 

A world in which self-interest and fear, division and inequity ruled the narrative. 

But friends, that is not the end of these stories. 

Our scriptures this morning are stories about how when we return back to our relationships we have the opportunity to repair the harm and God restores us to abundant living. 

They are about the restoration of dignity.

The restoration of broken relationships with our neighbors.

The restoration of our relationship to God.

The restoration of a new economy – God’s economy. 

Jacob returns home and seeks to repair any harm caused to his sibling by inundating him with gifts of lifestock and servants and wealth.

Goats and sheep and camels and cows and donkeys… all sent as a gift of reconciliation. 

Jacob is making amends for what he had stolen. 

And yet even as he is preparing to grovel and beg for his life from his elder brother, Esau runs out to meet him with radical love and forgiveness. 

Esau is focused on love and can’t even begin to comprehend this gift.

“I have enough.  I have plenty.  Keep what is yours,” is his response. 

When we are focused on love and reconciliation… there is always enough.

Because there is no mine and yours.  No winners and losers.  No divisions of class.

We simply work to care for one another. 

Or as Bishop Sue Haupert-Johnson put it – we practice gentleness… magnanimity… “yielding me for the sake of we.” 

It is not just our relationships that are restored, but our very souls and our communal life together. 

In the same way, Peter is struggling when he realizes that he cannot simply return to the old ways.  They fish all night and catch nothing.

But a familiar voice calls out from the sea shore and challenges him to throw his net on the other side. 

Jesus sets a feast of forgiveness and abundance, reaching out, ready to offer grace. 

Three questions follow their breakfast by the water.

Three opportunities to confess and proclaim.

Three chances for Peter to reconcile his guilt and shame over his denial. 

And in the instructions that follow each question, Jesus shows Peter… and shows us… how to move forward.

Feed my lamps.

Take care of my sheep.

Feed my sheep.

Be about the work of the church.

Focus on what I have called you to do.

Love one another.

Be generous with what you have. 

Forgive.

Repair.

Restore.

And you will find life and abundance. 

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

Love yourself.

We don’t have to sacrifice everything in order to be good stewards.

We are simply asked to remember that the well-being and life of the people around us is essential to the well-being and life of ourselves.

We are asked to remember that abundance is meant to be shared.

That burdens are as well. 

And that God’s money story is one of blessing, provision, forgiveness, and love. 

May that story change our lives. Amen. 

With Complete Confidence

Text: Acts 27:1, 9-12, 15, 18, 20-22, 39, 42-43; 28:11a, 16, 30-31

About a month ago, I pulled together some of our church leaders for an evening of conversation and planning about where we are as a church and where we are going.   

We started with this image from Rooted Good which simply asks – in the stormy seas of this moment, where do you find yourself? 

Are you tossed about by conflicting opinions and information? 

Are you riding the waves, or crushed by them?

In the midst of the constant change what is helping the most? 

We took some time in small groups to share the stories of what kinds of stormy seas we are sailing through in our own personal lives… the loss of loved ones, of relationships, the concern for aging parents, the health of people we care about… not to mention the pandemic, economic uncertainty, and the swirling chaos of misinformation.

So many of these things are circumstances beyond our control… stormy seas we have no power to tame. 

I’ve been sailing through some stormy seas personally, myself. 

Over the last six months, my spouse and I have been working to get help for some mental and physical health concerns.

It has been a long process, with a lot of appointments and hard conversations and work.

I wish I could say that everything is okay or that we see the light at the end of the tunnel, but we aren’t there yet. 

We are still riding on the choppy waves. 

And the truth is, I know that a lot of you are, too. 

It is hard and exhausting.

In that Wednesday night conversation with church leaders, we shared our stories of stormy waters but we didn’t just groan and complain.

We turned to scripture and read aloud these words from the Apostle Paul:

… We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken. (2 Corinthians 4:7-12)

Goodness… We have found ourselves in that place, haven’t we? 

Battered by troubles… not sure what to do… thrown down?

As Paul wrote these words, you can see the faith that keeps him going.

You sense the deep trust he has that even if everything is not okay, it will ultimately work out according to God’s will. 

The hope of God’s promises… in restoration, in forgiveness, in truth, in the resurrection, help him to keep going on. 

And when I read those words, I find just a little bit of the strength I need to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

Paul wrote these words to the church in Corinth three or four years before this shipwreck and journey from today’s reading.   

In part, he is talking about the cross that he must bear… which last week we named as the consequences we face when we choose to follow Jesus.

As he continues in his letter:

…What they did to Jesus, they do to us—trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us—he lives! Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. While we’re going through the worst, you’re getting in on the best!   (2 Corinthians 4:7-12)

At the end of the Book of Acts, Paul continues to bear that cross, being taken to Rome to stand trial for charges that still aren’t completely solid but boil down to his hope in the resurrection. 

He has chosen to follow Jesus… and as Jesus shines through his words and actions, he finds himself facing the same kinds of opposition as his Master.

That itself is enough to bear… but he understood why he was experiencing those difficulties and sees every trial as an opportunity to let Jesus shine through him.

But then there were the other circumstances beyond his control… stormy seas, literally, that could not be tamed.

As our scripture for today opens, Paul is being put on a ship headed for Rome, but as a well-traveled missionary, he knew that it wasn’t safe to travel.

They were late enough into the season that the seas would be too rough for passage.

Much of the early months of the journey were spent traveling along the coastline of the Mediterranean but eventually they must make for open sea.

Paul has enough struggles to deal with – no sense in tempting fate or adding to his difficulty!

So he urges them to winter-over on the island of Crete.

But his guard and the captain of the ship wouldn’t listen to his warnings and chose to set out anyways. 

You know, I can’t help but look at this map and think about the countless numbers of refugees fleeing from Syria and Libya who have tried to head north across the Mediterranean to safety.

We saw images of overcrowded and desperate families and even with modern boats many did not survive those rough waters.

Imagine being at sea during the midst of a storm in the most dangerous part of the year with only a wooden boat and sails to protect you.

But Paul knew and trusted that even though danger and trials and storms and chaos surrounded him, God was stronger. 

God would rescue them.

God’s promises stand forever. 

And so with complete confidence in what God could do, Paul helped the crew to make it through the storm. 

It is a miracle Paul and the crew survived.

They found themselves shipwrecked on the island of Malta dependent on the kindness of complete strangers.

But that’s what God does. 

Through the difficulties and trials, God shines through.

The Book of Acts seems like it has been building towards a grand climax where Paul eventually stands before Caesar and his story will wrap up with a nice bow.

But that isn’t what we get.

Instead of a trial, we find Paul continuing under house arrest in Rome. 

He preaches to the Jewish leaders there, challenging them to open their eyes and ears and hearts to what God is doing.

His door is wide open and without fear, Paul keeps teaching about Jesus.

And then the story ends.

In some ways, it feels like a let down.

We have followed Paul every step of the way of his journey and we want to know what happens next.

But the Book of Acts isn’t a story about Paul.

It is the story of Jesus.

It is the story of how the word and life and message of Jesus travels from Jerusalem… to Samaria… to the ends of the world. 

Paul did his part and through ups and downs and good times and bad, he continued to let the Holy Spirit work through him to share that good news.

Now, it’s our turn.

You see, that message continues to spread throughout this world.

Faithful folks carried the good news to right here in Des Moines, Iowa. 

We’ve had our share of stormy seas and trials.

We’ve had ups and downs.

We have faced opposition and economic struggles and personal hardship.

But through it all, God has been with us.

And if we turn our hearts and our lives towards Jesus, we experience rescue.

We experience healing.

If we hold on, with confidence, to the hope of the resurrection, we experience abundant life.

It does not mean that the journey will be easy.

It certainly wasn’t for Paul.

And I know that it isn’t for you.

And it hasn’t been for me.

But when we cling to those promises, then as Paul wrote:

… We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken… Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. (2 Corinthians 4:7-12)

And we can keep going, with complete confidence, because Jesus is with us.

Let’s keep telling his story. 

You Will Be My Witnesses

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Text: Luke 24:44-50, Acts 1: 9-11

Forty days after Jesus rose from the grave and conquered death, he led the disciples out to the countryside to the little town of Bethany. And he reminded them of everything he had done.

Jesus reminded them of how he healed and forgave.

He reminded them of his words and truth.

He connected the dots for them and helped them to understand his suffering and death.

I’m pretty sure that he probably talked about love.

And then he said five simple words: “you will be my witnesses.”

He blessed them.

And he left them.

On that day, forty days after Easter, Jesus was taken up into heaven.

And the disciples, our scripture says, returned to Jerusalem with joy in their hearts to spend time in worship and prayer and to wait. 

You will be my witnesses.

You know, we started this series on what it means to practice resurrection by talking about how we are called to be the living witnesses of the resurrection.

We are the proof that Jesus is alive and that God is real and that the Holy Spirit is moving.

Everything we say and do is a sign to the world of the reality of resurrection power.

There are some days, however, when I wrestle with why Jesus couldn’t have just stayed with us and done all of this himself. 

Wouldn’t it be so much better if Jesus was standing here teaching and preaching? Leading us? Showing us how to live?

There are so many problems that we face in the world today…

The ravages of illness and death…

The exploitation of workers…

Natural disasters…

And then there are the political tensions and violence…

Our scripture today takes place in Bethany – just two miles from Jerusalem in the time of Jesus. 

But today, that journey would require traveling from Israel into the West Bank through a separation barrier. 

Today, the conflict between the Palestinian and Israeli people over land and the right to exist and live and move freely makes this a dangerous place. 

As rockets and missiles fire, and the death toll rises… especially among the Palestinians who are far more vulnerable.

How I long and pray for peace for these peoples. 

And how I wish that in that very spot where Jesus once stood, he might stand again, raise his hands, and breathe peace upon the world. 

What is the ascension all about?  Why is it good news? 

Why were the disciples… who were so scared and timid in the days after his death, so filled with joy at this experience? 

This language of going up or ascending is really the “language of enthronement.” (GBOD)

In the ascension of Jesus, he rises not simply from the grave, but up to his full authority.

He no longer walks and talks among us but he is now “seated at the right hand of the Father.”

He is no longer the prophetic carpenter from Galilee, but he has risen to his fullest stature as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

The ascension is the completion of the resurrection.

And that is a good and holy and awesome thing.

But there is something else to the ascension that we often miss.

In the incarnation of Jesus, we celebrate the word of God was made flesh. We witness how God came down and was born as a tiny babe in Bethlehem.

Every aspect of our human life was experienced by God.

Love and loss.

Stubbed toes and broken promises.

Laughter and tears.

Disappointment and overwhelming joy.

Fear and grief.

Jesus experienced the fullness of our lives – and the ultimate depths of suffering and death.

God entered our humanity in the birth of Jesus… that little child who was fully divine.

And when Jesus Christ – a man of flesh and blood, a fully human being who ate and drank and lived and died – when Christ is taken up into heaven, all of humanity is taken up to God also.

These two moments: the incarnation and the ascension unite the human and the divine. They establish an unbreakable relationship.

And so we don’t need to stand on the Mount of Bethany, with our mouths open, staring at the sky waiting for Jesus. 

As the angels – those messengers in white robes who show up remind the disciples – ask, what are you doing standing around for?   

Jesus has not left us… he has united us with the divine.

“You will be furnished with heavenly power,” he says as he is carried up into heaven.

You will be my witnesses.

You are going to tell my story.

Jesus blesses us and empowers us to carry on the work of love and grace and transformation in the world.

To be the people of the resurrection.

As I think about our graduating seniors, I think about how this time of transition is just like that blessing and ascension moment.

For years, we have been pouring our love and faith into you. 

Today, we have the opportunity to bless you and send you out into whatever God has prepared next for your lives.

But you aren’t leaving us. 

And we aren’t leaving you. 

We are simply moving into a new phase of our relationship and lives together. 

You are crossing a threshold and claiming your lives in new ways. 

You are going out to be witnesses for Jesus.

To tell the world what Jesus has done.

To love people as Jesus has loved us.

To share God’s kingdom with the world… as you learn and grow and teach and play and serve.

But there is another truth here…

Sometimes, I bet you as students have heard that your real life begins after you graduate. 

But you have been pouring love and ministry back into us through your leadership and energy and service and witness this whole time. 

You are not the future of the church… you ARE the church and have been the church. 

You didn’t have to wait until you graduate or until you finish college or get a job… you get to serve Christ right now. 

One church put on their sign, “We believe in life before death.”

And in the church, just like we sometimes get it wrong about our young people…

We can get so caught up in life after death, in what happens up there with Jesus and whether or not we are going up there, that we forget about this life.

Jesus invites us to live before we die.

He invites us to go and share and tell and bless and love.

He invites us to not only live, but to share new life with the broken and hurting of this world.

William Herzog II writes that “neither resurrection nor ascension is about human longing for life after death.  Resurrection is a call to mission.  Nothing is said about the disciple’s resurrection… they are focused on waiting… until the mantle passes to them and the power from on high endows them for the mission ahead.”  (Daily Feast, Year C, pg 277)

We practice resurrection and work to make God’s will happen on earth as it is in heaven.

We practice resurrection because the Kingdom of God has come.

And in the ascension, we are connected and reminded of the divine power that will allow us to do so. 

You know, those disciples were asked to wait… but they didn’t have to wait long. 

Next week is Pentecost Sunday and after just ten days of praying and praising and expectation, the Holy Spirit rushed into their lives and forever changed the world. 

You know… if Jesus had simply stayed with us – he would have just been one person.

But the Body of Christ… the church… is greater than one man. 

And we are going to explore in these coming months how those first disciples claimed the power of the resurrection.

How they found the courage to speak God’s truth.

How they reached out in love.

And how the message of Christ moved from Jerusalem, to Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.   

Quick spoiler alert… it wasn’t easy.

At times it felt impossible.

As impossible as it might feel today to pray and work for peace for the Palestinian and Israeli people… or to respond to a natural disaster… or to navigate forces of oppression… but…   

That is our mission. 

To receive God’s power.

To share God’s love.

And to change the world. 

May it be so. 

Like a Shepherd

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Text: John 10: 11-18; 1 John 3:16-24

Last week in our time of worship we remembered that WE are EASTER people. 

We are the living proof of the resurrection.

We are the body of Christ, alive, serving, sharing the good news with the world.

That’s all well and good…

But what does it actually look like to live it out?

What does it mean to practice resurrection in our daily lives?

Pastor Katie, you might be asking… what am I supposed to do?

In the assigned lectionary readings for this season after Easter, we go back and we remember how Jesus taught us to live. 

And today, we find a very familiar piece of scripture…

Jesus proclaims, “I am the good shepherd.”

I am the one who lays down my life for you.

I know you…

I really know you…

And I am willing to give up my life to make sure that you are okay. 

And not just you.

All of the sheep. 

The ones right here…

And all of the ones out there, too. 

These words are so comforting. 

It is a reminder that my God will not abandon me.

That my Lord will not leave me in my struggle, but wants to lead me to still waters and green pastures.

In fact… there is this video that has been going around this week that I think perfectly exemplifies how the Good Shepherd loves us…

Let’s watch:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_4S5yBkSpU

How many of you are that sheep?

Just me?

No? Of course not… it’s all of us. 

And no matter how many times we get stuck, or fall in the crack, or screw it all up, Jesus doesn’t abandon us.

Jesus, our good shepherd, was willing to go through the valley of the shadow of death in spite of our failures, and mistakes, and sins. 

My Savior loves me so much that even his own life is put on the line for me.

Or as Debie Thomas reminds us, “As the Good Shepherd, Jesus loves the obstinate and the lost… he’s in it for the long haul, he not only frolics with lambs, but wrestles with wolves.  He not only tends the wounds of his beloved rams and ewes; he buries them when their time comes.”   (https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2990-a-shepherd-who-is-good)

Oh, what wondrous love is this. 

As Christians and people of faith, we are so eager and ready to claim this message. 

It feels good to be loved like that.

It is amazing to have this kind of assurance, right? 

Someone else gave up everything so that I might be saved.

And our hearts are all warm and fuzzy and we are held in the hands of our God and everything is right with the world. 

We read this story in the season after Easter not because it makes us feel good, but because it is a reminder of how we are now supposed to live.

How we are supposed to act.

How we are supposed to embody the power of the resurrection in the world today.

You see, if we are now the body of Christ, alive and present in the world, then we are called to carry on the love of The Good Shepherd.

Or as we read in 1 John 3:16-20:

This is how we know love: Jesus laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for our [siblings].  But if someone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but refuses to help – how can the love of God dwell in a person like that?  Little children, let’s not love with words or speech but with action and truth. 

Or as we’ll read next week from John 15:12:

            This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you.

We are not supposed to simply rest in the arms of the Good Shepherd.

We are called to embody what it means to be a shepherd.  

I think about Peter on the seashore, eating breakfast with Jesus after the resurrection.

Jesus told him to feed his sheep.  To tend his sheep.

We are called to walk in the footsteps of the Good Shepherd.

We are commanded to love like Jesus loved.

What does that mean?

Well, let’s take this Good Shepherd scripture apart and see what it has to teach us. 

First:  we are called to relationship.

Jesus says throughout this parable, “I know my own sheep and they know me.” 

The good shepherd is not a thief, or a stranger, or even a hired hand.

A thief seeks to harm others. 

A stranger shows up and the sheep will scatter because they don’t know their voice.

And a hired hand, well, they are in it for the paycheck and the sheep don’t matter.

But the good shepherd has built a relationship with the flock. 

And we are called to build relationships with the people around us.

We are called to get to know one another, to share our joys and concerns and life together.

As a church, we can do this through our prayers, but also through the times of fellowship and how we show up in one another’s lives.

One of the primary ways we do this at Immanuel is through some of our small group ministries… whether it is choir or a bible study or the mission trip. 

Because the truth is, it takes time to get to know someone.

And when you get to spend time together each week or all at once on a trip, we learn an awful lot about what people are excited about, what is important to them, and how they struggle.

And all of those things then allow us to show up and stand beside one another and remind each other that they matter. 

We care about what happens to them.

Second: we are called to look beyond this flock. 

Jesus says that he has other sheep and I think that this is a call to look beyond our circles of friends and colleagues and loved ones.

It is a call to share the love of God far and wide.   

We don’t get to determine who is in and who is out and who is worthy.

We are simply called to love.

We are called to recognize that every life we come into contact with matters. 

Not because of how we benefit or gain from the relationship, but simply because they matter.

And goodness that’s hard to live out.

Because there are some people in this world who try our patience. 

Who just can’t seem to get it together.

Who we have been willing to write off or diminish or ignore.

In fact… I want you to picture in your mind right now someone like that. 

Someone that you have a hard time loving.

Do you see their face?

Okay… now I want to invite you to watch that video again, and I want you to imagine that they are the person stuck in that ditch. 

We are called to love our enemies.

To pray for those who persecute us.

To forgive over and over and over again.

And to keep showing up in the lives of people who keep making mistakes… because they matter, too. 

Finally: we are called to love sacrificially.    

To lay down our lives for other people. 

Sometimes that looks like giving from our own abundance and blessing to make sure the basic needs of others are met… like folks from Immanuel will do this afternoon as we reach out in love to our homeless neighbors through Joppa. 

Sometimes it is standing up, protecting, and grieving with people around us who are vulnerable… like so many neighbors gathered together this week to stand at a vigil in support of the central Iowa Black community.  

Sometimes it is setting aside our own desires or comfort to take on actions that benefit the common good… like we have all done by wearing masks and social distancing to flatten the curve.

And sometimes, we are called to give everything.  In the line of duty, or service, or love, we put our lives at risk so that others might live.  From law enforcement officers to hospital workers to missionaries who serve in dangerous places, and more…

We are not asked to love just when it is safe or easy, but in the midst of wolves and powers and forces beyond our control as well.   

We are called to speak truth and work for change in the fierce and powerful spirit of love.

What does it mean to practice the resurrection?

It means to build relationships and make sure people know that they matter.

It means to stretch our love beyond those of our tribe so that all might know the good news.

And it means that we carry that love into situations that are broken and hurting and we show up with our full selves and work towards God’s promised future. 

There is only on Good Shepherd… but as disciples of Christ, we are called to love like him more and more every single day.

May it be so.  Amen.

Living Proof

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Text: Luke 24:36b-48

Did the resurrection actually happen?  I know what you are thinking… that’s an awfully strange question for a pastor to be asking. But I wasn’t there.  You weren’t there.  It happened a really long time ago. If someone asked me that question today, if I had proof that Jesus is alive, what could I show them?

Well, to be honest, I would show them you.  We are an Easter people, aren’t we? Our lives are marked by the resurrection of Jesus, isn’t it? If the resurrection is real… if Jesus is alive… then it is our lives that bear witness to that truth.

Let’s back up a bit and explore what that means.  In our gospel for today, Luke tells us about how the disciples first encountered the resurrected Jesus.  In this version of the gospel, women had traveled to the tomb and the body of Jesus was gone. Instead, they encountered two messengers who told them that Jesus was alive. The women ran back and told the disciples who were mighty confused.  Only Peter was willing to take their story seriously and when he went to look in the tomb for himself, he simply found a linen cloth. 

Later that day, two followers of Jesus were walking along the road to Emmaus and Jesus showed up beside them!  When they finally realized who it was, they ran back to Jerusalem, found the eleven remaining disciples and the rest of those gathered and told them that Jesus really, actually, truthfully, was alive. And bingo-bango… Jesus appears in the room.  Without warning. Without doors opening.He just shows up.

Luke tells us that they thought they were seeing a ghost and Rev. Dr. Derek Weber (Discipleship Ministries) picks up on that idea… “They were haunted by him,” Weber writes. “by the idea of him, by the blood of him. They were terrified of their shame, of how they had abandoned him, of how they wouldn’t believe in what he had told them before or what the women said they saw.” 

This idea that Jesus would simply appear. And be there. Right there. Standing before them. It was almost too much to comprehend.

And so, Jesus offers them living proof. He isn’t a spirit. He isn’t floating in the air. He’s real. Flesh and blood. Here are my hands, he says. Look at my feet. Touch them. This was about more than just seeing the marks from the resurrection still present on his body. It was also about grabbing on and feeling the blood and the life and the warmth coursing through him. 

In our modern English translations, we might read “touch and see” here in verse 39, but Weber notes that in the Greek, the words are more of a command. He is telling all of them – Grab a hold of me!  Ground yourselves in my reality. Hang on to it. Don’t just see, but behold! What you are going to touch and experience when you do will change your entire life. Or as Weber puts it: “Grab hold of the reality of Christ and see not just him but you, too.  See your path, your future, your mission, and your reason for being.”

And then, to dispel ANY remaining doubts about whether or not he was really real, Jesus eats a piece of fish. Because, ghosts don’t eat, right? Things that are dead don’t eat. I am real.  The resurrection is true. Everything I told you is actually happening.  And then he goes on to remind them, once again, about what God wants not just for them, but for all people. 

As we launch into the summer, we are going to follow the disciples as they travel to the ends of the earth with this message of transformation and life and abundance  and hope.  We will walk step by step through the ways they lived out the resurrection of Jesus in the world.  So we aren’t going to dive into all of that today.

You see, first, we need to appreciate and understand and grab a hold of the truth of this moment. As Derek Weber writes, “the gospel, the life of faith has to be grounded in reality…  If we don’t start here, if we don’t watch that piece of fish being eaten, if we don’t grab hold, we won’t see. And if we don’t see, then we are likely to turn our message into one of the hereafter, the sweet by and by and not the here and now.”

Think about it.  If all that Jesus did was create a way for us to get to heaven… there would be no need for the resurrection. In his death, he could simply have cracked open the wall that separates heaven from earth enough for our disembodied souls to get in. He didn’t need to come back and walk and talk and eat fish to carry us into heaven when we died. He could have simply sent a messenger, or showed up as a spirit.  And the message of the Christian faith would have been something like: everything will be better after we die.  

To be honest, that is how I see a lot of Christians walking around and acting. That is the message that is often shared with people. This world doesn’t matter. These people don’t matter. Who cares what is going on in Myanmar or Minneapolis or on the Mexican border, because my faith is about what comes after this life. 

Except, it’s not.   That is not the truth of the Christian faith. Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthians, if Jesus wasn’t raised from the dead then our preaching is useless and so is your faith. The good news is that the resurrection life transforms THIS world and not simply the next.  It is born out in flesh and blood and love and community right here and right now.  Our faith is an embodied faith.  Our spiritual lives cannot be separated from our physical lives.

Debie Thomas reminds us in her essay this week that we have a Savior with a body like ours… a body that was nurtured in a womb and who hungers and weeps and gets angry at injustice and who was vulnerable to forces of violence and cruelty beyond his control.  And we have a God who resurrects bodies, “The physical resurrection of Jesus is God’s definitive offering of both compassion and justice: all that has been taken, broken, mistreated, wronged, and forgotten, will be restored.”

This truth, this good news, this resurrection is so real that you can reach out and grab a hold of it! It begins right here and right now. It is experienced anytime we feed our neighbors who are hungry. Or advocate for justice in our neighborhood. We behold the resurrection when we cling to the hand of our elderly neighbor or sick friend. Or break bread with an enemy. It is the proclamation that lives matter.  Bodies matter.  Stories matter.  What you are experiencing in this world matters and God wants to heal and restore and redeem anything that has broken or separated us.    

As Jesus tells the disciples, huddled together in that room on the day after the resurrection:  You are witnesses of these things. You are the proof. The living proof. You bear out the truth of the resurrection in everything you say and you do. Friends, we are Easter people.  We are called to practice and embody the reality of the resurrection in all that we say and do. 

So in these coming weeks, we, like the disciples, will go back to some of the teachings of Jesus and remember what exactly that means. We’ll practice what it means to listen… and to remain… and to love… With not just our minds… And not just for an hour on a Sunday…But with our whole lives.  So that anyone who meets us will know – the resurrection is real and Jesus is alive among us. Amen.