Easter Sunrise 2023 – He is not Here…

Matthew 28:1-10

After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.”

So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Sermon Text

Easter is a day of transformations. It is a day when the past falls away and reveals, not just the present, but the brilliant future that God has inaugurated around us. The light of what will be bursts out and makes the world shine, even just for a moment, with a light only Heaven can bring about. The glory of Christ resurrected, the fullness of God represented in the fullness of a perfected humanity, this is a glimpse of what we all will someday know when God’s perfected world is established and Christ returns in final victory.

For the women at the tomb that day, the emptiness of their friend and teacher’s resting place was a cause for extreme alarm. Was the body stolen? Did the Romans dispose of it somehow? What caused them to be deprived of this one bit of peace, properly burying their beloved companion as all people deserved to be buried. The alarm they felt melted through the words of a mysterious stranger – “Be not afraid… He is not here. He is raised from the dead.” The reality of his absence was met with something new, the reality of his continued life. Christ had been raised, not by another prophet or miracle worker, but of his own power, a master over life and death, Christ showed us what he will do for all of us someday.

We are now in a place where, when people ask where Jesus is, we must say, “He is not here. He is raised from the dead.” We do not have the immediate consolation of Christ being a little ways off to meet us, reassure us, and comfort us. However, we of faith are given the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit, to settle in our hearts. The presence of God, until that day comes where all is accomplished, sits within us. The light of Easter, of the resurrection, is ours to share, if we are willing. The light shines in the darkness, and shines out most brightly when we gather as we do this morning. The people of God, looking into the darkness of our fallen world, proclaiming the resurrection, and the hope it gives. We are Christ on earth today, proclaim the resurrection loud and clear wherever you go. – Amen.

Maundy Thursday 2023 – Nothing but Love

John 13:1-17, 31b-35  

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them…

Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 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.”

Sermon Text

 If there is one metric we have to apply to how we live our life, it has to be how much we are willing to love. Sometimes we can create a feeling that an abundance of love, or saying the word too much, cheapens the sentiment somehow, but I do not know if that is true. Love is a pure and unbounded thing. It is as infinite as God is, that is why God chooses to identify with that one term – “Love.” Sometimes people will talk about how there’s multiple kinds of “love,” that Greek generally, and the Bible specifically talks about. That is an exaggeration of sorts.

Love is usually called “αγαπη,” (agape,) and rather than being a special kind of love, it is the transcendent character of love. Let me put it plainer. All love – for family, for friends, for our beloved – these all spring from one place, and that place is agape. Scripture talks about love most often in this general term, not because it wants to be vague or take away the power of “love,” as a declaration, but to show that all love is rooted in the Divine. When we work to live and work and grow alongside our friends, our family, our neighbors, we do it all in the Spirit of 1 Corinthians 13, the chapter that best defines love in words.

We seek to be patient, and kind, to not envy or boast. We do not seek our own way or bitterly struggle against each other. We forgive, and we chase after truth. Rejecting evil we trust, embolden, and affirm one another. We stand together against a world that can be cruel, difficult, and just plain nasty. We aspire to do this, not only in the abstract world of words, but in actions. The action that speaks loudest and best to the nature of love, is the one we model today. We wash one another’s feet, we kneel down and submit to those around us. We do this because Christ did it first. In re-enacting this one act of love, we prepare ourselves to accept Christ’s love which he showed the day after he washed his disciples’ feet. We prepare ourselves to behold the crucifixion, and in preparing to behold, we prepare ourselves to imitate our God, our savior, our Jesus. – Amen.

Sermon 04/02/2023 – The People and the Crowd

Matthew 21:1-11

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet:

“Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

“Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Sermon Text

Sometimes it pays to go along with the crowd. If we were in Jerusalem long ago, we would have likely found ourselves among the people of the city. Seated peacefully in our homes, maybe doing work out in the marketplace, but tucked behind the walls of Zion for sure. We would have been prepping for the Passover, dealing with the extra traffic the festival brought and also making sure that our household had everything it needed to celebrate. Everything was busy, everything was loud, and yet something louder and stranger than the usual festival rush was happening just outside the gates of the city.

Taking a break from our work, we could see what the hubbub was about. A mob had formed outside the city. It was large, but how large you could not quite be sure. The group did not seem organized and in fact, they seemed to just be coming and going with no real plan to what they were doing. Some people are walking away naked, which though more common in the ancient world is never not strange. Other people have climbed up into trees and started throwing down branches from above the road. Those on the ground are grabbing them, waving them or throwing them on top of the discarded clothes sitting in the road.

At the center of that mob is a man on a donkey, maybe two donkeys? Hard to tell from where you are standing. Something clicks in your head, “Oh, it’s a political rally!” Someone is claiming to be God’s anointed, and they are riding a donkey like Zechariah said the Messiah would. It’s weird though, usually the crowds for someone claiming something like this are more… Organized. This guy seems to just be picking up people as he goes along. You lean in to ask someone who the guy on the donkey is and hear something that might just change your life. “The prophet, Jesus of Nazareth.” I say it might just change our lives, because there is a choice to be made as the parade passes by.

Jesus, in all his ministry, was not what people were expecting. His disciples, who knew him best, often struggled to wrestle what they wanted Jesus to be away from who Jesus really was. Some of them saw him as an amazing prophet and teacher. Others still saw him as God’s messiah, come to free them from Roman oppression. Still, others combined the roles and saw Jesus as something more, something different, something approaching the savior we know him today to be. The public opinion of Jesus was even more scattered. Was he a revolutionary? A con artist? A traveling teacher? All depended on who you asked.

In our own experience, as post resurrection people, we know how this story ends. As we honor the work of God across the next week, with Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, we will do so knowing that Easter Sunday is waiting to break out. This ultimate liberating act of God, the moment death was conquered, puts who Jesus was into perspective. We cannot deny the Godhood of someone who can tell the grave it has no power. We cannot deny the glory of a person who after death was transformed into a still more brilliant life. We cannot see the way the Spirit has brought us to embrace faith, and not deny that Spirit is the same one carried and given by Christ.

Yet, we still can fall victim to the same traps that people in Christ’s time on earth stumbled into. The appeal of life as we would like it to be, God as we can easily understand, is always a threat. We can want God to associate only with people like us. We can want God to reject those we reject and embrace those we embrace. My enemy is God’s enemy, and my friend is God’s friend. Not only that, but my plans and my ideas are second only to God’s, so close are our intentions and mindset. We can look out into a situation and just know exactly what is true, and good, and right about it. We are wise and discerning, and do not need to wait and see anything about what is going on beyond the surface of things.

We often make the mistake of believing that the people that rejected Jesus’s ministry were all irrational or evil. Some of them were, but most people who turned away from Jesus’s ministry were those who looked at him and decided they knew what sort of person he was. He was another revolutionary that would come and go, or else he was another speaker you could take or leave. The pharisees, perhaps his biggest adversaries, were not that different from him. They taught similar lessons, often traveled in the same way, but when they disagreed the only solution those in power could think of was to push out this thorn in their side.

For those who found a reason to take issue with Jesus, they would often point to the crowds that surrounded him. The term in Greek for the people who welcomed Jesus into the city is οχλος (Ochlos,) and it is almost always used as an insult. While you had the dignified people of the city, the πολις (Polis,) and the average person on the street, the λαος (Laos,) there was always the masses beneath them. This rabble, this common crowd, this mob, that is the kind of people Jesus attracted. He was not getting the people in town with businesses and good repute, he was getting the people those people would never let near them.

In our modern context, Jesus appealed to the junkies and the backpackers, the men riding bikes from one end of town to the other, and the women doing what they need to, to survive. Jesus did not care about whether his camps would take down property values, and he always rejected the leaders in each town who suggested his gathering was somehow improper. The Kingdom was breaking out, the celebration was already beginning outside the city and it was really starting to pick up. The well-to-do and the respectable were not going to be attending, it was going to be the people who were willing to learn what the world should be like, and not those who had decided long ago what they wanted the world to be like. We are all standing at the gates of Jerusalem, and we all make the choice. Will you join the crowd? Or lock up your heart?

Sermon 03/26/2023 – Sinew and Skin

Ezekiel 37:1-14

The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you and will cause flesh to come upon you and cover you with skin and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the Lord.”

So I prophesied as I had been commanded, and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them, but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.

Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people, and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord when I open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”

Sermon Text

As far as I’m concerned, Ezekiel’s vision could have taken him to this very moment and in this very place. The valley of dry bones was not a literal place, it was a vision God placed in Ezekiel’s mind of God’s people – not as good as dead, but long dried up and left alone. It was also a vision of their revivification. For him this vision meant the people of God in exile – the Israelites scattered across what once was Assyria and the Judahites scattered across Babylon – would someday leave there exile and come home. But, what does it mean for us now?

We are in a difficult time in the Church. The ages of being the default social group people in society is long past. Denominations are all shrinking – non-denominationals are seeing the end of their peak period and are experiencing a slide much like what the mainlines before them felt. The majority of people in the United States still identify as Christian, at least in name, but that will change.[1] We will shrink, we will see more churches close, and more denominations struggle to keep up the image they once held of themselves. We are in a waning period in our history, the collapse of the world as it was, and the start of something new.

The simple truth of prophecy, of the words which God offers us to inspire us to change and to embrace the work of God in the here and now, is that it is never positive in the short term. There is abundant hope in what God has to offer us, a future where all will be made right, but in the short term you seldom see a prophet bring good news. Jeremiah, in a moment we all can relate to, rebuffs a false prophet on a single basis. When prophets come to the people of God, they bring news of a world that is broken and about to break even more, and that false prophet only had good news about what was coming down the pipeline.[2]

We are at a point where the heat of the sun is beating down on the people of God. We are tired, we join in the cry of the dry bones in today’s text, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost…” I don’t know about you, but there are plenty of times where I find myself feeling that my hope is gone. The troubles of the world, multifaceted and terrible as they are, have very little hope of clearing up in our lifetime. Poverty, war, an unbridled and impossible to combat materialism that has reduced the world into a countdown clock to environmental disaster, all weigh heavy on the mind. Things are grim dear people. Things have given us every reason to worry about what the future may bring.

We who gather here are not given the escape of just imagining things will get better on their own. We know that there has to be a revivification of the world or else it will continue to dry out, to die bit by bit. Sometimes we think we could just magically flip a switch, and everything will be like it was. We’ll worship how we did then. We’ll have as many people as we did then. We’ll do everything we loved and took pride in then. And you know what that would do, if such a miracle could be achieved? We would just postpone our decay for another twenty or thirty years. The slow decay of the world, of a congregation, is exactly that – it is slow. By the time we notice that the pews are emptying, and the waters of life seem to be drying up in the wells we dug long ago, the problem has been around much longer.

I know sometimes we will try to point to singular moments or events that caused our present troubles. The Pandemic is the current monster we look at and say, “If only this had not happened, we would be so much better off!” Well, I tell you that the pandemic was the head of a beast that came out of the sea for sure, but it had been gnawing on the roots of many a congregation for years before that. We just called it a million other things, a million small cuts and fractures that eventually had a chance to burst into a problem we had no answer for.

The Prophet did not come into the valley of dry bones and prevent the thing that brought about disaster. The damage had been done, the bones were as dry as they possibly could be. If anything was going to happen, it was not going to be from fighting the battle that got them there in the first place. Looking to blame some Satanic force like we did in 80s won’t bring renewal. Coming up with some imagined culture war will not inspire people to take the leap into a new life. Even singing and preaching for weeks at a time won’t be enough to change the world as it is. The only thing that can revivify the world we are in is a movement of the Spirit, and it will only come when follow the lead of prophecy as we see it in our text today.

We have to walk in the valley of dry bones, we have to count them and notice just how much we have let go fallow, and then we have to cry out to God. We have to call for God to bring the Church back together – to unite us in love and power. I talk all the time about how the Church needs to fight to sort itself out, but we need to see that we go to war with one another more often than we have any healthy family spat. Our denomination is exploding, and it is not because one group is Biblical and the other is not. Both parties in this struggle are trying to serve God however they feel convicted to do so. No, the reason things are exploding is because we cannot bring ourselves together enough to begin to be the body of Christ.

The thing that the prophet sees happen is firstly that the body of the slain comes together, and then and only then does the Spirit fill them and give them life. The Church is definitely going through a rough time, and it will get rougher before it gets better, but the first thing we have to do to get better is to come together. We’ll be a charge soon, and that is the most obvious sign of coming together, but it needs to be more than that. We need to serve one another, we need to love one another, and not just in this room – but across churches and across denominations. We have to reach out a hand, to draw the disparate pieces of God’s body back together, and we have to pray to God each and every day for the Spirit to bring us together and give us life. – Amen.


[1] Even if denominations do experience growth, the present trajectory of belief in the United States is toward increasing loss of belief, and shows no sign of increase.
Pew Research Center. “Modeling the Future of Religion in America.” Available at: https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2022/09/13/modeling-the-future-of-religion-in-america/

[2] Jeremiah 28

Sermon 03/19/2023 – Shine a Light

Ephesians 5: 1-14

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

But sexual immorality and impurity of any kind or greed must not even be mentioned among you, as is proper among saints. Entirely out of place is obscene, silly, and vulgar talk; but instead, let there be thanksgiving. Be sure of this, that no sexually immoral or impure person or one who is greedy (that is, an idolater) has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.

Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be associated with them, for once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Walk as children of light, for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness; rather, expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what such people do secretly, but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,

“Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”

Sermon Text

 Recently I had the chance to watch a sunrise. It is a simple fact that we have a sunrise everyday, and there is often very little keping us from observing it except our own tiredness an the clouds that seem to constantly cover our view of the sky. This morning where I saw the sunrise was a special day though. I got to wake up early, climb up a hill where I was staying, and look out at the world before it had woken up. Some deer just over the nearst gulley, light creeping over the mountain in front of me. Several minutes after the sun had crested the horizon line, it crested that distant hilltop, and shone out, wreathed in clouds that made its light seem even brighter by contrast.

Light is a common image we go to in scripture, but outside of moments like this, we get inoculated to just what a difference light can make when it chases darkness away. I think power outages are about the only time we get a good idea of what real darkness looks like. Some of us who camp might also know something  about that, but I can’t stand camping myself so that’s not where my mind goes. The precious nature of just being able to see where we are going is something we cannot understate. It is no wonder then that we constantly go back to it as a means to talk about life with and without God’s presence.

For people of Jesus’s time there was a fairly common understanding of people as broadly fitting into two categories – children of light and children of darkness. Now, splitting people into these categories is dangerous, and nothing I say here should have you start sorting people into one group or another in your head. Still there are good things and bad things in this world and the way that we conduct ourselves matters. We work constantly to try and make more good come from us than bad, and it is in doing that we push ourselves more into our identity as “children of light.”

My mother raised me with some very particular expectations about how I should act in given situation. I remember one time I was telling a story about how my step-mother had reacted to something I said back to her one day in a funny way, how exactly I don’t remember. My mother, rather than laughing with me at the strange situation, looked me dead in the eyes, face suddenly grave, and asked one simple question. “Are you telling me you’ve been talking back to your step-mother?” I quickly learned that my mother raised me to have sense in my head, and I would not find sympathy for the moments my senselessness caused anything to happen.

As I was reading this scripture and discerning what the message for us here today should be, I kept coming back to the way we talk. I think that there are few lessons we can take closer to heart, and meditate more upon, than how we speak to one another. 90% of what we do in a relationship is based in speech, and far fewer things are based in the work of our hands or feet. When I am interacting with friends, family, the people of God wherever they might be – I am interacting primarily through the words of my mouth.

Paul lists three kinds of speech that are not helpful, and he might go even further to call completely unworthy of being spoken. These are called “obscene, silly, and vulgar…” Those each have their own meaning for us today, but as always, we have to ask what Paul meant and then work forward to where we are now. We’ll spend a little time on each and then work toward something we can take with us into the world.

Firstly, there is obscenity. The word in Greek just means, “unclean,” and is not explicitly a word used for how a person talks. Paul is talking about talking though, so we can make that leap. What is obscenity? That’s hard to say because most every topic of conversation has its place in certain contexts, except I think, the sorts of things we can just call, “Gross.” What is a “Gross,” talking point? Well, let me try and explain.

There was a year when a stamped happened during a Muslim festival. Stampedes are unfortunately common in large groups of people. I heard multiple people afterward say something to the affect that they hoped more stampedes happened at these events. – that is obscenity. The conversations that several of my friends chose to have when women walked away from us where they felt the need to share their general inability to see them as something other than an object – that is obscenity. The words we speak in malice, or close mindedness, that deny the humanity of those around us – these things are obscenity.

The next category of language is “silly,” in the translation we read this morning. The word really means pointed jokes at another person’s expense. Plato uses it to describe when a student picks on their teacher and their teacher, graciously, allows it as part of youth.[1] I am not someone who believes you can never pick on someone a little bit, I would not be able to preach in this Church if I did not believe that lighthearted ribbing has its place in a community. Still, the difference between a joke that lands well and a joke that causes great harm is very, very slight. We have to be considerate, and careful, of how we talk to people around us, being aware of their sensitivities and backgrounds, so that we never harm them in what we say.

Finally, we are given “vulgar talk,” which we usually think of as cursing. I do not, as a rule, care about whether someone curses or not – context depending. My family is full of people with the mouths of sailors, and I do not see an inherent sin in their word choice. Time and place for everything of course, but I will not moralize the frequent and flippant foul mouths of my family. No, I think that we are better to see that this word is μορολογια, (Morologia,) Moros – Stupid; Logia – words. This is a warning against talking without thinking, and I found some amazing texts talking about this. In particular, people at Paul’s time thought that talking too much, and with too many words, was a sure sign that someone was not being earnest.

Now, as a long winded person, I am mildly offended, but I see what is meant by it all. Plutarch, an ancient writer, describes someone who speaks without thinking as being like a sieve. The second you pour knowledge in their head, they start talking about something completely unfounded until any benefit they might have gotten from the lesson is completely lost.[2] Again, a bit harsh, but there is a powerful lesson in our ability to think before we speak. More important than not saying things that are cruel, or things that are more serious than we treat them, is to not say something we have not thought to its end.

If you are thoughtful about what you say, then you’ll find yourself avoiding those other problems. When we speak, we need to take time to make sure what we say is really worth saying. Once we know it is worth saying, we have to be sure that we say it in a way that reflects what we really feel, and what is really the case, and not just what we would want to say. Sometimes you all will notice that I start a sentence and then stop one or two words in to rework what I want to say. This is not because I’m trying to clean up what I want to say (usually,) but because I let my wordiness get ahead of me. I have to stop my words, redirect them, and then hopefully have something to say that is true, helpful, and reflective of what I am thinking of.

Speech, the source of so many problems, is often times the one thing that we have complete control over, if we can only reign in our initial tendency toward these three vices. Going back to our initial image, light shining out on the world, and from that our identity as members of God’s family. Like my mother when I told her I talked back to my stepmother, we have to know that God wants us to act like we are children who have been raised with some sense. And the most sensible thing we can do, it be careful how we talk to one another. – Amen.


[1] Plato. Republic. VIII

[2] In particular, Plutarch describes word without thought as being like, “vain and silly discourse,” that comes from being drunk. Plutarch. De garrulitate 4.

Sermon 03/12/2023 – Growth and Reconciliation

Romans 5: 1-11

Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely, therefore, since we have now been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

Sermon Text

 The book of Romans is often presented as the most concentrated explanation of salvation in the New Testament. The letter is a defense of Jewish Christians but one that equally tackles the concept why non-Jews are now able to join into a religion that is born from the death and resurrection of a Jewish Messiah and founded on the scriptures of Israel and Judah from centuries before. Romans is a defense of Jewish believers, written by a Jewish author, but it is also trying to explain fully why the Church was crossing over previously solid barriers in culture to create an increasingly large alternative culture – the Kingdom of God.

The full picture of why Paul feels the need to spell out salvation so exhaustively and in the particular framework of Jews and Gentiles, is complicated. There was a time when the people of Judah had fairly porous religious and culture barriers around them. From at least Solomon to Josiah, a span of about three hundred years, people of all cultures and religions lived in Jerusalem and intermarried with the inhabitants. The Assyrian Empire changed things when it conquered Judah during the time of the prophet Isaiah. Faced with control by one empire, and now threatened at its end by Egypt on one side and Babylon on the other, Josiah attempted to crack down on what he saw as religious indiscretions.

Josiah centralized worship of the God of Israel in Jerusalem, destroying altars to foreign divinities and even destroying ancient ritual sites that were meant for Judah’s God if they were a challenge to centralized worship. The result of his reforms was a push for religious homogeny. It was only after the Babylonian Exile had come and gone, about sixty years after Josiah died, that an ethnic separation was imposed on the people of Judah. The returned exiles, now called Judeans or Jews, were led by Ezra and later by King Nehemiah, in a dangerous gambit for survival. To maintain their identity, they defined a Jew as someone born of a Jewish mother, and ideally, of dual Jewish parents. They had to marry within their own people, and anyone who had “foreign wives,” was made to abandon them to die, along with their children, outside of Jerusalem.

The exact politics and ideology behind this expulsion is complicated, we spent several weeks delving into it when a few of us studied Ezra last year. The essential point to be made here, all the same, is that this is not an idea held by modern Jews – and so we cannot and should not impose anything I just said on them. It is also not what God intended, as we see in the words of the prophet Jeremiah to the people, telling them to go out and marry among the Babylonians for the good of both peoples. Yet, regardless of intent or purpose, the outcome was that an in-group of Jewish believers was created and an outgroup of everyone else put in opposition to it. We cannot judge the people of Judea for this, it was a tactic to survive, but we nonetheless as Gentile believers can say that we uphold it either.

Paul struggled his whole life with these ideas, in large part because he was a Greek Jew. These “Hellenists,” were ethnically Jewish, but were descended from the wider Jewish diaspora. Greek Jews spoke, well, Greek. Depending on where they were from they would dress differently than Judean believers, and ultimately were seen as lesser by many in Judea. Not to equivocate my own experiences, but think of how people react when I say I’m from the Eastern Panhandle. “Not really West Virginia,” they might say, putting me on the outside even though I have every right to claim my heritage that was born in Petroleum and Grantsville.

Crank that up to eleven, and you get the sort of thing we are dealing with. As a result, many Greek speaking Jews were even more committed to the traditions and adherence to the faith than even Judean believers. The rejection they felt from their own people was enough to make them want to do everything they could to look and sound as Judean as possible. Back to my own example, it probably isn’t a coincidence that I have so much memorabilia of thoroughly West Virginia things like ramps, the Braxton Beast, or Mothman. For Paul though, memorabilia wasn’t enough – he was committed to being a “Hebrew of Hebrews,” and to the purity of his faith.

This is why he responded the way he did to Jesus’s movement. It was an open invitation to all people to become part of Judaism, and that was something Paul had never accepted for himself. The doubt he felt over his own identity spilled into a zealous defense of the faith from these seeming “aggressors,” and he sought to kill anyone who challenged the peace. Did he have any power to do this? Only through mob violence, but it was something he tried. Eventually, God intervened through Christ’s sudden appearance to him, and after a long wrestling with himself, Paul accepted his Greek heritage and went a step further to begin accepting Gentiles too. He even dropped the Hebrew name he took on when he moved to Jerusalem, “Saul,” and accepted the name he was given at birth, “Paul.”

Paul’s letters work hard to establish just how wide God’s kingdom really is. At times, he seems to swing so far as to abolish Jewish practices among Christians, but his own life tells us that he never stopped being a Jew, even as he was most ardently Christian. So when he heard that Jews were expelled from Rome under Claudius, he would have wept for his siblings in faith. Yet, when he heard that upon their return, the Gentile Christians were not accepting them back into the Church they had founded – his tears turned into a righteous indignation. Paul put pen to paper and set out to settle the issues between Jews and Gentiles once and for all, and in the process wrote the letter we read from today. Without even trying, he wrote something that, for many of us, suffices to explain Salvation better than any other text. So much so, that our Communion Liturgy borrows directly from sections throughout Romans.

The work that Paul embarks upon requires equalization above all else. All people are sinful, all people having fallen short of standards both human and divine. Rather than being a source of perpetual shame, Paul puts this forward as something that simply removes any form of shame from the community of faith. We are all sinners, but being redeemed, we are not to be ashamed of that fact, instead we are equipped to overcome the conflicts of our past and take on something new. Elsewhere in Romans, Paul puts forward that both Jews and Gentiles have advantages as members of the Church. Jews have the entire history of Israel, the scriptures, the teachings of sages and teachers, and as a result carry the history of God’s work in the world and how grace has been poured out since Eden on all flesh. Gentiles, meanwhile, are admitted into the Church by grace and so speak more directly to how grace exists in the here and now.

Grace did not cease to be given to the Jews or transfer to be a Gentile only matter. Paul does not deny that the two populations are different, maybe even overwhelmingly so. All the same, Christ’s work unites them in something stronger than those differences. The opportunity to learn from those differences, to compromise where compromise is possible and respect the extremes of one another where compromise cannot happen, it is a boundless place for growth. When I worked for the Baptist Convention in D.C. there were many things that seemed alien to little ole Methodist me. I thank God for everyone of them I saw in action, because I saw in the different ways of worship or working, God at work. When you see God at work in something completely different than what you are used to, you begin to see the universal nature of God’s grace.

God has reconciled all flesh, God has given salvation to everyone. No matter how sinful a person may be. No matter how different they may be from what we call, “the norm,” God is inviting all people in. We can fight this, or we can accept it, but only one of those choices is Godly. We may like Paul deny the parts of ourselves that make us seem different from the people around us, but that is a dead end. Only in accepting, embracing, and promoting difference, can true unity be found. When we take off the name we’ve put on ourselves to blend in, and take on the name that was always our to have and to embrace – then we will know true growth. God is here, God is welcoming us and all others into the Kingdom, let us lock arms and charge in with joy, unashamed, and fully accepting God’s call to us, and not to the “us,” we pretend to be. – Amen.

Sermon 03/05/2023 – Beyond John 3:16

John 3: 1-17

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with that person.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?

“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen, yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Sermon Text

Our scripture from last week focused upon the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. While it was our decision to disobey, and not the fruit of the tree itself that sealed our fate, the tree and the serpent hanging from it remain a strong symbol of human sin. We see in that image, in the shadow cast over all life, an emblem of what is broken. What is wrong in this world is easily described with those three simple images – a serpent, a tree, and humanity. Simple and clean symbolism.

Yet, when Jesus comes to this world, lives his life and carries out his ministry, he is not drawn to this image at all. Aside from a teaching on divorce, he seems completely uninterested in using the opening chapters of Genesis for anything. How sin entered the world, for Jesus, seems to be far less important than its cure. It is only when Paul begins his ministry of letters that any real attempt to relate Adam and Jesus comes about. To Paul, the relationship between a first and second Adam is more important than just about anything to explain how salvation is possible. Jesus, however, looks to something else in the history of God’s people to explain the ins and outs of salvation.

In the Wilderness, one thousand-odd years before Jesus walked through Judea, Moses led Israel on a decades long trek. They were fed by God with Manna and quail, led by pillars of flame and smoke that housed presence of the same God. They faced trouble after trouble, each moment carrying equal parts faith and doubt within their souls. Every step along the way we are given story after story of highs and lows. Few of these episodes carry more significance and power, than the arrival of “burning snakes,” and God’s deliverance of Israel from the fire of their venom.

The people became discouraged after seemingly walking in endless circles for years and years. They begin to speak openly against God and Moses. Their complaints echo through the ages and reflect other complaints they made earlier in their journey. Having now been free of Egypt and slavery for years, the Israelites are able to forget the evil they once faced. The terror of slavery has dimmed, and now they are imagining their past oppression as if it was some kind of salvation. “If only we were still in Egypt! They had so much food.” “If only we had never left, Pharaoh was a lot, but he really wasn’t that bad!” “If only… If only… If only…” The wilderness was tough, but to call enslavement better than wandering, well only time allowed them to imagine that was the case.

God, not pleased with this rebellion, sends snakes to infest the camp. What that means is a little unclear – whether the snakes were summoned to the area or if they already were there – but whatever brought them there, the result is the same. The snakes are called, “Seraphim,” or “Burning Ones.” These attack people and when they do, those people die. Moses eventually intercedes for the people and God provides a cure. Craftsmen beat bronze into shape and a snake takes form from the hot metal. This snake is lifted up on a pole for all to see. Now if you are bitten by a snake, all you need to do is look up to the bronze serpent and you will find yourself saved.

This story is easily lost in the rest of the book of Numbers, but it is the background from which Jesus draws out an explanation of what it means to be born again. Jesus says that his actions on the cross can only be understood if we know how, “Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness.” Salvation is coming to the world and to understand exactly what that means we have to first understand how the arrival of poisonous snakes, and the making of a bronze copy of them showed God’s love and mercy long ago.

When we see Nicodemus come to Jesus to understand what his teachings man, we enter into a conversation about the “New Birth.” Jesus says that to be born again, a person must be born “of water and the Spirit.” The waters of Baptism initiate them into the community of the faith, but only the Spirit can really “save them.” This salvation is not just an escape from Hell, but a rebirth. Once the Spirit touches us, we should be different than we were before. Some parts of us will always be around – the defining traits that define who we are, what makes “us,” “us.” The things beyond this, the evil we take part in and the wrong we perpetuate, these fall away from us. The light and goodness of God take their place, and we find a completely renewed, “us.”

The Spirit does the work here, but we choose to follow “the sound of the wind.” The wind that blows over our life, guiding us to be better than we were before is the Spirit that gives us life, and life renewed. It allows us to know God more fully, to see things as they really are. The Spirit, though given freely by Christ to the Church, did not begin with us. It crafted the world around us, sustained its life and inspired the prophets and the people of God in the scriptures.

The Spirit led Moses somewhere he never would have dreamed of going. To save his people, God told Moses to build a bronze serpent. The making of a an image like this, cast in metal or wood or stone, was forbidden by the Teachings Moses brought down from Sinai. God had asked them to do something that, logically, would seem impossible – even forbidden – but he did it to save the people. Could something even as basic and important as the prohibition against a graven image be superseded by a need to save people? Moses only followed because he trusted that while he did not know where God’s spirit was coming or going, he trusted that God sent it for good.

Jesus’s work on the cross exists somewhere adjacent to the work of those metalworkers who were called to make a serpent at Mount Hor long ago. Jesus becomes the image of an invisible God, an εικων. God, in becoming incarnate, becomes the ultimate graven image – taking on flesh and bone which, in resurrection, exists to this day alongside God the father. Jesus acts not only as the image of a perfect God, but of sinful humanity. Though perfect himself, nothing about Jesus’s physicality is different than ours. The same ingrained temptations and pitfalls are present within Christ, yet in his rejection of all that is not good, he shows us what humanity could be.

The image of divinity, of perfected humanity, and of sinful humanity, two natures at once present and three aspects existing as an emblem of salvation. Christ, the cure for the sin we have chosen time and time again, looked no different than sinful humanity. Christ, the ultimate peacemaker between God and humanity, was the perfect image of both. This imaged lived a human life and then was lifted up to die on a cross. All so that, now, all who look upon him, wherever they are, may know salvation from sin, from pain, from death itself.

Like the Israelites long ago, for who the snakes did not disappear, we too still face life’s troubles. Yet those troubles have an answer, a way we can find peace, and it is through Christ. Christ who lived, died, and rose again for us. The Spirit is rushing around us, from where and to where we cannot know, but we still can follow it. We follow it because through it we are born again. And we have work to do! We must go now and proclaim the truth, beyond even God’s love, such that Christ may die for us. Yet that love is so wide and far spread that all may know Christ is here – not to condemn, but to save. Our call is to spread the same truth – one of salvation, not condemnation, of transformation and not rejection. Lord, may we live into that call and may we never forget the power of the salvation we proclaim. – amen.

Sermon – 02/26/2023 – Everything, but That

Genesis 2:15-17

The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”

Sermon Text

Limits are hard to accept. We always want to push against the things imposed upon us, and sometimes do so to our detriment. As we make our way up I-79, taking that long slow slog up to Morgantown, we face a continual desire to get there just a bit quicker. The signs tell us, 65 mph, 70 mph when we are lucky. Construction that constantly stalls us slows us to 55, but we are always looking to see if work is really being done that day so we can punch that gas pedal just a little harder. We seem to ignore that, even if we go 80 the entire way up to Morgantown, we will only save 4 minutes. We want to push against any limit, because we feel it will serve us better to do what we want than what is asked of us.

American culture is founded on this kind of rejection of limits. We began as a country because taxes were imposed on import businesses, and those with money and means wanted unlimited wealth, not metered income. That is shown in the radical independence of American culture. “Who cares what benefits those around me, as long as I get what I need? Who cares what I can do for my country, when it can do so much more for me? Neighbors? Who needs them, I want a house and a lawn, all as far away from the world as I can get it.” Rugged individualism, the idea that “greed is good,” it is as American as apple pie.

We pretend that our problems are new, that they are the result of generations younger than ourselves that have poisoned the future we have worked so hard for. However, the problem is much older, as is our tendency to blame anyone but ourselves for it. It goes all the way back to a garden planted at the source of all rivers, a garden with every good fruit and vegetable you could ever want, and a single tree that was off limits.

Scripture does not tell us what kind of fruit was on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. We usually think of it as an apple, just because “Evil,” in Latin is “Malus,” which is the same word for apple – a bit of a literary confusion we never quite got over. However, whether it was pomegranates or apples or even something we have never dreamt of or seen, the fruit itself is far less important than what it represents. In chasing after that fruit, humanity was gaining knowledge of everything they could ever want to know, and in chasing that fruit, humanity gave up the joys of paradise they had once known.

The Garden is one of the stories in scripture that we can easily get wrapped up in the details of and miss the point of. Countless oceans of ink have been spilt justifying why God would plant a forbidden tree in the garden, and trying to explain why humanity would be given a choice so massive and dangerous as this to begin with. I’m uninterested in that kind of exposition. In my mind, the Garden and the tree tell a story that is played out eternally all around us, there are choices that we can make and when we make them poorly there are consequences.

We talked at length about the finality of choice just a few weeks ago, and we looked at how God gives us guidance to choose life again and again. It is important to point out that God also imposes limits to prevent us from making choices that would ultimately harm us as well. Despite attaining all knowledge they could ever want, no good comes to Adam, Eve, or the Serpent who mislead them. The serpent loses its limbs and becomes a slithering thing, robbed of intellect and now a beast like any other. The primordial couple meanwhile must face the reality of life outside of Eden, a world where childbirth is dangerous and where weeds are far more common than produce.

In our own life, the limits imposed on us by God take many forms. For one thing, there are restrictive commandments – things like do not steal, lie, or kill. For another, there are the human limitations imposed by our mortality. We cannot know everything, we cannot do everything, and while most of us get our three score and ten no one ever gets more than one hundred twenty years to sort their lives out. Limits abound all around us, and they are as frustrating as can be.

The writer of Ecclesiastes spends most of the book complaining about how limited life is. The seasons of pain cannot be seasons of joy, because God has ordained both for their set purposes. The waters from the ocean race back to the rivers to race back to the oceans. Life and death are always chasing after each other, and we have no control over what anyone does to our legacy once we die. God set a knowledge of eternity in our hearts, and yet has made us limited. For Qoheleth, the writer of Ecclesiastes, there are few things as miserable as that.

Yet, on the other side of those frustrations, is an acknowledgment of the good that they can produce. The hard times are made bearable because they do have an end. The waters that constantly replenish one another sustain life. The legacy we leave may be out of our control, but we can work to enjoy what we have now, and set up a future where others can continue and enhance what we have begun. The life we live is limited, and that can be frustrating, but every limit can also impose a blessing if we are open to understanding the fullness it provides.

For the first humans the choice was between expulsion and continued presence in paradise. For us today, the issues are much more layered and sometimes not obvious. The teachings of Moses, for example, make sense if you are in an ancient agrarian community, but are sometimes hard to translate to our modern life. Do the teachings of Moses, then, only cover so much of what we now face? The prophets seemed to think so, as their own proclamations augmented and clarified these teachings in a different era. Even Jesus, the one who fulfilled and preserved all of Moses’s teachings, gives us new insight into the “Yes,” and the “No,” that God has given time and time again.

For us today, we are interpreters of scripture for a new era. We cannot answer questions the same way we always have. What does it mean to bear false witness in an era where it is easy to share falsehoods accidentally? What does it mean to build fences to protect people from accidental injury, not on the roof of a house, but in the way we build the world around us? How do we leave an ox unmuzzled as it mills grain, when we are no longer dependent on animals to produce our food like we once were?

Every generation is given unique opportunities to understand what God commands. We do so as limited people, people who easily can make mistakes and misinterpret what is set before us. Yet, we do so with an understanding that everything we want to be able to do, is not always what we ought to do. We want to have freedom in every aspect of our life, but we are reigned in from that for the good of all people. We do not horde, so that others can have what they need to live. We do not say whatever we want, however we want to,  because others are worthy of fair treatment and dignity. We do not get everything we want when we want it, because to do so we would have to exploit those around us and enforce an autocracy of the self.

The Church is known today as a place that tells the world what is shouldn’t be doing. So much so, that I think we often forget to represent what we as people of faith are called to do, rather than what we seek to abstain from. However, I think that we are also guilty of telling the world “No,” and ourselves “Yes.” When we want something, it is fair and reasonable, when we are asked to give something up it is the worst thing we could ever be asked to do. Today I invite us to be honest with ourselves, about the bad habits and behavior we tolerate in ourselves and put limits upon them. We must tell ourselves no sometimes, if we ever want to be better at saying “Yes,” to what God has for us. Learn to glory in limitation as well as in freedom and find that both have their place in God’s economy of goodness. – Amen.

Sermon 02/22/2023 – Ash Wednesday 2023

Matthew 6:1-6,16-21

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before others in order to be seen by them, for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.

“So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

“And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you…

“And whenever you fast, do not look somber, like the hypocrites, for they mark their faces to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Sermon Text

There is always something different to lift up in Lent. Sometimes the simple idea that we can be better than we currently are, is worth remembering. Sometimes the emphasis can sit on the reminder that this life has an end and so our decisions matter. An infinite amount of lessons to be learned, all to be lifted up in the forty days that we call “Lent.” Yet, in the modern world I think that there is a lesson that might be more important than any other – the lesson of privacy in our devotions.

It is easy to share online, in-person, or simply to the void around us, all that we embark upon in our life of faith. Maybe we hope to inspire others to follow our example, maybe to keep ourselves accountable, or sometimes even to just look good and holy. Whatever the case, there is a real benefit that can come from us not sharing anything and everything we do, a holiness and joy that can come from privacy in our life. In an era when we can share, at any moment, our thoughts and feelings with infinite numbers of people, sometimes it is enough to simply do things and let nothing mark that they were done.

How holy would our world be if we kept our opinions to ourselves sometimes, rather than fight over every little detail. How blessed would life be if our failures and successes were sometimes between us and God, and not every follower we have on Instagram. How much mor honest might we be, if we were not always projecting our best selves to a world we imagine is judging our every moment. Perhaps, for this Lenten season, we should all work to give up some of the publicity we all have accepted as normal in our life. Let us embrace the prayers Jesus taught us to pray in secret, that we might in public focus only on living a good life, and not on what people may thing of us while we do so. – Amen.

Sermon 02/19/2023 – Dazzled by Reality

Matthew 17:1-9

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will set up three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they raised their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

Sermon Text

Reality is a beautiful thing. Despite our ability to dream up infinite worlds, and our love of fantasy and fiction, it is often hard to surpass the beauty of what is already around us. The beauty of the natural world, the wonders of the sky at night, and even the simple complexity of the bodies we live within – all of these can wow us without any embellishment. God too, in all the complexity and beauty of the divine, needs nothing additional to wow us. When we meet God, in moments of prayer or worship, or in the face of someone else, we see something raw, unfiltered, amazing in its own right.

Scripture, the record of people throughout the ages encountering God, likewise gives us beautiful and unfiltered glimpses of God’s beauty. The stories of God’s people facing hardships, and yet overcoming reflect our own difficulties. The visions of God’s brilliant being gives us words to describe our own glimpses of the divine. The teachings passed down for ages show us what it means to live as people of God, and to create a community worth bragging about. Time and time again, we are given things to be dazzled by. Yet, dear siblings, we are not always satisfied with the simple majesty of scripture.

In seminary we would sometimes joke that the hardest part of the classes we took was not anything to do with relearning how to read scripture or how to run a church. The hardest part was actually learning that many of the sermons we heard throughout the years told stories that were made up, or used images that had no basis in reality. Harder than any challenge to our faith that came from deep diving into the history of the Church and scripture, was facing the reality that a great many ministers were  not content to let scripture stand on its own, and so dressed it up with a variety of seemingly benign pleasantries. By decorating the pages of scriptures with flowery exposition, I think many ministers felt they were doing us a favor, but I disagree on its effect.

There are mountains of books and sermons that take scripture and dress up the bits that seem a bit barren. The warning from Jesus that it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of needle than for a rich man to enter heaven was too challenging, and seemed too abstract. Therefore, someone invented the idea that there was a gate in Jerusalem called “the Eye of the Needle,” that required a camel be unloaded of its cargo before it could enter.[1] The image is meant to make people think of what they must give up to become holy, but it detracts from Jesus’s message – that something as impossible as a rich man entering Heaven is possible with God.

At a funeral for a colleague of mine, the preacher told a grand story about Cyrus the Great setting up a throne in town and asking random people what they would give up if he spared their life. The story was longer than it needed to be, and was meant to illustrate God’s love for the Church – that while a man would give up any object for his children, he would give his own life for his wife. The image led me to have several questions, mainly why the story would separate out what God would do for the Church and what God would do for the people in the Church, but also why it was necessary at all. Cyrus was a real person, Isaiah calls him a “Meshiak,” or “Messiah,” and he ended the Babylonian Captivity. Why tell this story, made up whole cloth, and confuse what history and scripture has to say about a very real person?[2]

These serve purposes for instruction, sure, but they pollute our understanding of what is real and what is not. This past Christmas I was introduced to a set of teachings about how Jesus was laid in a manger because that is how unblemished lambs for sacrifice were kept safe. I saw this shared by other ministers no less, and when I spent just ten minutes looking into it, I saw it was not true. Some may say, “Who cares! It is a good story and it gets the point across.” But I care very deeply, for a multitude of reasons, and I think we all should.

You see, truth is a fragile thing. Just one word spoken improperly can destroy it in an instant. Think of the times in your life where a rumor has gone out of control. All it took was one person saying something carelessly, or intentionally to deceive. Soon you have people calling you asking about evils you never committed and things you have never said. Even when the dust settles and the truth is theoretically made known to the world, those rumors will linger in the back of people’s minds, forever mixed in and entangled with the truth. Truth is a fragile thing, because the second we start adding to it, it ceases to be a thing we can call, “true.”

We’ve talked before about my love of debunking conspiracy theories and mysteries. That love is not just because I’m weird and therefore have weird hobbies, but because I am infatuated with the preservation of truth. I was criticized by a colleague of mine for suggesting that there is no benign conspiracy theories. I believe that because the moment we deny truth in any form, we make it easier to accept the next lie we are given. Looking back, I wish I had fought harder against that criticism, because more and more everyday I stand by the idea that anything but absolute truth is a dangerous thing to hold onto.

Our scripture today shows the disciples meeting truth in a way they had not before. They climbed the mountain of transfiguration and saw Jesus take on, just for a moment, the glory that he would have in his resurrection. This was not an addition to who Jesus was, per se, but a lifting of the veil to show what Jesus had always been. The God-man who could say, “Before Abraham was, I am,” shown out in that moment as our human eyes were not yet equipped to see.[3]

I think that it is important that we study as much as we can about scripture, and understand the history the underpins the beliefs we hold about it. However, if in the pursuit of understanding, we begin to create a false scaffold around our beliefs that makes them easier to handle, then we can never really see the glory they hold for us. Like we talked about last week, God did not put scripture far away from us, but put it in front of us all to wrestle with and understand. Those who proclaim they have secret knowledge or know some obscure bit of history that “unlocks,” scripture, are probably misguided themselves or lying for clout.

The greatest wonders that come from God are seen because God is never hiding from us. God is always showing us more, always opening doors that used to be closed. There is no need for us to dress up the reality around us, because it is dazzling on its own. Peter wanted to build tents for those that appeared on the mountain that day because he had added to the story he was seeing unfold in front of. He believed Moses and Elijah were not just there to speak to and encourage Jesus, but were worthy of tabernacles to house them. He added to what was happening, He decided that this was something other than it really was. Ironically enough, by building these tents, he would have hidden the beautiful thing in front of them.

We too can decide if we will hide the beauty and glory of God. We can try and make beautiful what is already radiant, but when we do so we will just be carpeting over hardwood, hiding beauty in convenience. We must defend truth, we must preach it unfettered, and that requires us to let ourselves be dazzled by reality as it is, and not as we might invent it.


[1] This myth is very old, likely dating to or before Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh century. See –
Ziemińska, Agnieszka. “The Origin of the ‘Needle’s Eye Gate’ Myth: Theophylact or Anselm?” New Testament Studies 68, no. 3 (2022): 358–61. doi:10.1017/S0028688521000448.

[2] I can find no particular origin to this quote, except that it is used in too many sermons. It may be rooted in a book of Sermon illustrations from 1986, but the illustrations contained there-in are probably older.

[3] John 8:58