Caution - Unavoidable Urge to Move May Follow

So, this post is a little out of order. This is the sermon from Pentecost, June 4, 2017.

Pentecost 2017

            This week, I attended the 30^th annual Delaware-Maryland Synod Assembly along with delegates from our church. In addition to the plenary sessions where between two and three hundred of our sisters and brothers in Christ from throughout the synod met, where we shared in bible study and heard from dynamic speakers and where the business of the church was conducted, we also gathered at least once each day for worship in the auditorium of the Convention Center in Ocean City.

As you can imagine in a facility like that, an effort was taken to set up a space conducive for worship. So, at the front of the auditorium, upon the large stage that took up most of the width of the room, a large altar was created from several tables drawn together. This altar was then covered with white tablecloths and bunting. Next to the altar stood a large banner with a matching, smaller piece of fabric draped over the white clothes covering the constructed altar, serving as the frontal, much like these red paraments here do today.

When we see these colors in use in the church, we are in fact celebrating the fire of the Holy Spirit of God alive and work in the church. Here in the Lutheran church the standard occasions when we pull out and put our red tend to be Pentecost Sunday, Reformation Sunday, and for ordinations and consecrations in the church. That’s pretty much it. Really? Really!

And yet, it is our understanding, as a church, that the Holy Spirit gives life to the church, inspires, blesses, and makes holy the work of the church. The Holy Spirit is responsible for giving us faith; grants a variety of gifts for the good of the church, like the ones listed in the passage from Corinthians today – gifts like wisdom, and knowledge, and healing, and prophecy, and discernment, and so on. Like I said, the Holy Spirit, in fact, gives LIFE to the church. And fortunately, God is color-blind, because God sends the Holy Spirit to abide with us constantly, and not just when we are wearing our red.

But as I sat in the final worship service of the synod assembly yesterday, it was these pieces of fabric that caught my attention and my imagination; Because, in keeping with the theme that underlies any such gathering of the church, and in light of the upcoming Pentecost Sunday, the silk-screened pieces of cloth that made up the banner and frontal were covered with images of huge flames – the interplay of large tongues of bright yellow, and shades of orange and red blended together conjuring a fiery scene.

As I gazed at these images of fire and flame, I thought about our relationship with fire, and how the image of flame is used to evoke our relationship with the Holy Spirit. Just look at our own paraments and banners and at the images upon the stole I wear today. What do you see? The red of fire, the shape of flame.

How many of us have ever been mesmerized, staring into the flames of a fire? Perhaps you’ve found yourself staring in a hypnotic trance at the flames in a fireplace, fire pit or even a bonfire. Flames draw us in – hopefully not too close, or your hypnotic trance may be rudely interrupted by the odor of singed hair or burning clothing.

Fire, of course, has been an essential element in the lives of human beings from the dawn of time. Once, in the history of the human race, we discovered how to make fire, the flames of fire were harnessed to provide light and heat, to cook food, to create tools, to clear land, to shape communications, and for so many other essential uses.

Place a flame under a pot of water and before long that water is moving, then bubbling, then boiling over. Flames under the frypan will have your meat or vegetables soon popping and sizzling nicely. Build a big fire in a cold room and before long, you’ll find yourself cozy and warm.

Fire contains what is a sometimes overwhelming power. It inspires both fear and awe. If you’ve ever experienced the uncontrollable, unquenchable hunger of a house, grass or forest fire, or suffered even a minor burn, you probably understand the fear part.

What does it mean, then, that a major symbol for the Holy Spirit is the image of flame and fire? What message does the text from the Acts of the Apostles today tell us about our relationship with this advocate, the Holy Spirit, who was promised by Jesus and who powerfully enters the place where the apostles were gathered on that Pentecost day? Why does Luke, the author of this text, include in the telling of this story of the early church the detail about tongues of fire not consuming, but dancing over the heads of the apostles, and finally, resting on them?

The story we have in our first reading today occurs on the fiftieth day of Easter – the fiftieth day after Jesus rose from the grave. In the intervening forty-nine days, Jesus has met many times with his fearful, hesitant, doubting disciples.

When they weren’t doubting Jesus, these vulnerable, very human disciples often doubted themselves – doubted that they were good enough – doubted that they had the right words or that people would listen to them if they told them about Jesus. They perhaps doubted that they could ever go out and do the ministry Jesus was sending them out to do. Perhaps they doubted they could withstand the danger.

No wonder we hear the calming, comforting words from a loving Jesus so many times during this final training period, “Peace be with you.”

Then, at the right time, Jesus sends these believers the Holy Spirit with flourish and pizzazz. Perhaps those licks of fire mesmerized the apostles at first, but not for long. Infused by the Holy Spirit, they are now sent out, burning with energy, desire, and a sudden new ability to share the good news of Jesus Christ. Just like that, God gives the Holy Spirit to the church on the occasion of her birth.

On that day, the inspiration of the Holy Spirit was illustrated in part through the sudden ability of the disciples to speak to people from many  and different places, in the languages that spoke most clearly to their hearts. By speaking to so many people from so many places, the Holy Spirit invited diversity into the church from its inception.

The thing about fire is that it never stops moving. It can be neither contained, nor still. The other thing about fire as any student of science will tell you, is that it changes the substance and nature of the thing it affects: Water turns to steam, raw meat turns to edible food, structures in fruits and vegetables are altered changing their consistency and taste, in some cases making them more easily digestible. Wood turns to ash. And the fire of the apostles’ speech witness to the power of God to change the world through the diversity of the nations.

The thing about the this constantly stirring, moving, dancing Holy Spirit is that it, too, changes everything it touches. Jesus infuses the church by sending his Spirit to abide in, with and around his disciples, changing them forever.

The Spirit sends us out into the world to bring about the fiery change that Jesus calls us to in the ministry and mission

We are used to thinking about the Holy Spirit as the one who inspires heals, unites and guides us. We often speak of the Holy Spirit as the one who comforts. As your pastor I count on the Holy Spirit to guide not only my actions, but my words – so, when my preaching seems “off” – you can blame the Holy Spirit – maybe she was just too busy to inspire my preaching, or your hearing that week.

The thing is, that the Spirit is given to the church as this energizing, fiery, inspiring, constantly moving force for the gospel of Jesus Christ. While each of us is blessed with and by the Holy Spirit in our Baptism, this Holy Spirit is given not for our individual benefit, but for the sake of the world – God’s world – the place where we are sent out, from Baptismal font then nurtured and fed at the table, and sent out as the Spirit-driven firy breath of God’s justice, hope, healing, compassion, care, and love alive and active in the world; constantly moving, constantly agitating, constantly alive in faith in Jesus Christ.

God’s Holy Spirit, never idle in our lives is constantly moving us outward – like the disciples, no longer content to remain within the four walls of the upper room, nor even within the gates of Jerusalem, we shall not be content to remain within the four walls of this sanctuary.

Don’t get me wrong. This is a vital place for us, for it is here that we hear God’s Word read and the gospel good news proclaimed in community; it is here that we are reminded who God is and whose we are. It is in this place as we gather together in the name of Jesus Christ each week that we gather around the table, where we receive the body and blood of Our Lord, and where, blessed by the Holy Spirit we receive grace upon grace for our own dance of faith in mission and ministry for Jesus.

It is the Holy Spirit’s agitating that inspires us to care for God’s good creation, an important ministry now, perhaps more than ever before. It is the Holy Spirit’s bubbling energy that calls us to gather food each month to be delivered to the local food banks, and that this year alone has inspired us to give over $2400 dollars in coins, checks and cash to ELCA World Hunger alone. Thanks be to God!

It is at the Holy Spirit’s sending that members of Grace serve each month at the Talbot Interfaith Shelter, that Thanksgiving meals and Christmas projects are provided for the good of our neighbors right here in Easton; that several times each month lunches are provided for the homeless and for low income seniors in our area. The Holy Spirit inspires us and moves us to share this God-given building with two other groups -  an AA group and a newly formed Hispanic congregation each week, so that every single day of the week, through the blessings we have received, we are blessing others in the name of Christ.

On this Pentecost Sunday, as on every day as we invoke the name of God’s Holy Spirit in our prayers and in our daily walk, let’s remember the dancing, moving, invigorating nature of God’s Spirit. Let’s remember how God reaches down into our world and into our lives and inspires movement and dance, speech we never thought ourselves capable of, and grants us gifts and abilities for the purpose of God’s mission and ministry lived out each day for the sake of the God’s kingdom here on earth.

So inspired, let us join the dance of the trinity, the movement to share God’s truth and love in the world.

Amen.

New Life in Light of Lost Hope and Dashed Dreams

Luke 24: 13-35 Road to Emmaus

Imagine yourself as one of the disciples of Christ on that first Easter Sunday. So much has transpired in the past few days. On this evening, the day of the resurrection, what do you think you might be feeling? What might you be thinking?

Remember, in just this one day alone, as you are still digesting the turn of events that led from triumph to tragedy in 5 days’ time in Jerusalem, added to your burden are the revelations of this morning.

You are probably still consumed by the thoughts and images of what you witnessed with the trial of Jesus and his crucifixion three days ago, and then, just this morning, here came two women from your group who gave witness to an empty tomb;  then other disciples went to see for themselves, and they confirmed it. The tomb was empty, though they saw no sign of either Jesus or an angel. You don’t know what to think. The women’s tale included an angelic visitation and message - a promise that we would see Jesus again, but your thoughts and feelings are in chaos.

Not able to sit idly by, unsure about the safety of stepping out on to the streets of Jerusalem, you and another disciple set out for a nearby town.  Soon, you find yourself and your companion on the road to Emmaus; it is about 7 miles away.

To put things in perspective for us today, if we left Grace at the end of worship this morning and went walking toward St. Michaels, seven miles would take us just over the Oak Creek Bridge; or, going out toward Denton, 7 miles would bring us almost to Kitty’s Corner Road. Traveling out Route 50, we would get to just about the Backtown Road intersection, near Trappe; and if we went in the direction of the Dover Bridge Road toward Preston, we would nearly reach Route 578. You get the idea; it’s a bit of a hike, but not terribly long - a journey that will take a few hours at most, lots of time in which to talk, to turn over and over again all that you are experiencing, thinking, questioning.

As you walk along the way, of course, your conversation quite naturally turns into a dissection and deliberation of all the things that have happened, with the story of the empty tomb and the angels’ message of paramount interest and importance. You likely debate – even argue - with one another over whether or not to believe the women; what it means that the brothers also returned with a report of the empty tomb; what might have happened to Jesus’ body.

All of the feelings and reactions that you mentioned at the beginning of this sermon would have been in play, and then some. With the time it will take to walk these seven miles, you have the opportunity for good, open and honest conversation with your companion. You get to unpack a lot of your thoughts and feelings – to express your grief and sadness, to talk about your doubts and fears, and confusion, and even to argue over the meaning of today’s revelations.

What might that conversation have been like? I mean, if it was you, and your best friend, or one of your companions in faith here at this church who are walking along the road, what kinds of words might we expect could be overheard from your conversation?

I imagine it was a lot like that for Cleopas and his friend, engrossed in conversation when suddenly they are aware that a third person has joined them along the way. Of course, we know this person to be Jesus, a stranger to them in the moment, but one who knows them well.

And when he asks them what they are talking about, they give him an impassioned review of the things that have transpired. They reflect on the hopes and dreams for redemption that they had as they had come to know this Jesus, hopes that have now been dashed and muddled and most recently – perhaps, if they foolishly dare to entertain new hope – revived, if they are to believe the astounding reports of the women. They are so confused, so weary, so much in turmoil.

It may be hard for us to comprehend the impact of these things – after all, even if we are moved by the powerful images and stories of Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection, we absorb this story through 2000 years of processing, scholarship, and even through the bias of the ways the stories have been told to us and the way they have been interpreted through media, time and teaching. The passion, death and resurrection narrative are shaped by so many things, and in many ways, watered down by 2000 years that have transpired between that Easter Sunday and this Eastertide.

In our Gospel this morning, Cleopas and his friend, in their response to Jesus’ question spoke the words, “We had hoped…” We had hoped this is the person we were dealing with; we had hoped for redemption; for this outcome. We had hoped. Those three words may be the saddest words in our story. “We had hoped” is an expression of disappointment, of disillusionment, of despair – “we had hoped” is a bare, undisguised expression of grief. “We had hoped.”

There are many things for which we hope and in which we are disappointed. Things that matter. Things about church, your life, your family, our community, the state of our country or our world or, whatever. I would like to give you the opportunity to name your own grief, pain, and disappointment –  as expressing these things are key to our being able to let go of them, to move past them. Expressing them doesn’t make them go away, but it can release us from the power they may have over us. 

What things are you grieving, lamenting, fearing or suffering today? How would you complete the statement, “But we had hoped”?

On the road to Emmaus, the disciples described to Jesus how their hopes had seemingly been dashed. In an expression of affection, Jesus says to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets had declared.”

Jesus isn’t denying their pain, but showing them that God has not abandoned them, in their underlying fear and disappointment.  Instead, Jesus to reveals to them all of the ways in which God has moved and worked and accompanied God’s people. Jesus addresses the ways in which God has promised a savior, and the ways in which, through God’s mercy and love, God’s promises have been fulfilled. Jesus walks with them. He listens to their grief and despair. In those moments, Jesus embodies God’s love and eternal presence with them.

And so it is with us. In confession, in prayer and in the thoughts of our hearts we share with God the grief we bear. We tell Jesus about our disappointments and fears, about our dashed hopes and our present hopes. As we expressed with one another the things that weigh us down and bring us to the kind of despair the disciples experienced, Jesus assures us that we are not alone, that the promise of God to bring healing and balm for our griefs and sorrow remain with us in the person of Jesus Christ. When our “but we had hoped” ends in lament, Jesus hold us, and assures us that, through his resurrection we can be assured that God is working good in our lives and will not let us go.

As evening fell on Emmaus, Jesus shared a meal with these disciples, on the very evening of his resurrection. Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them and in that instant their eyes were opened. They knew the power of his love. They went from dashed hopes to burning hearts. They understood who he was and they knew that his presence with them was real.

As Jesus made himself known in the breaking of the bread on Maundy Thursday and again in Emmaus, Jesus still makes himself known to us today. As we remembered our Baptism this morning, as we pray together and sing together and most powerfully, as we break bread together, Jesus reveals himself to us and assures us that there is no disappointment on earth, no dashed dream, no pain, sorrow, grief or confusion he cannot penetrate through the power of his revealing love.

Imagine yourself as the disciple of Christ that you are today, and may you come to share with others how you have encountered Christ on the way, on the road, in your heart, and through the breaking of the bread. May you know the joy and surprise, once again, of God’s presence and love and promise, realized in Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Holy Joy, Holy Laughter

Psalm 150

Surprises give us the twin gift of joy and laughter, and today is a day for surprises. The Easter story is full of surprises, and as the weeks after Easter unfold, additional surprises pile up. Now, we don’t always like surprises, do we? It seems a few weeks back we might have talked about some of the kinds of surprises that we don’t really care for. But the revelations of Easter are the good kind of surprises, and they often bring the kind of joy and laughter as this story I heard last week:

Perhaps you’ve heard about the elderly woman who had just returned home from an evening of church services when she was startled by an intruder. She caught the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables and yelled, "Stop! Acts 2:38!"
(Which reads, “Repent and be baptized, in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven.”)

The burglar stopped in his tracks. The woman calmly called the police and explained what she had done. As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he asked the burglar, "Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture to you."

"Scripture?" replied the burglar. "She said she had an ax and two 38's!"

Ba Da Boom. Welcome to Holy Humor Sunday!

I have another story for you:

There was a woman who was doing some baking for her Easter dinner on Holy Saturday. There was a knock at the door. She went to find a man, dressed in shabby clothes, and looking for some odd jobs. He asked her if there was anything he could do. She said, "Can you paint?" 
"Yes," he said. "I’m a rather good painter." 
"Well," she said, "Go into my shed - there are two gallons of green paint there and a brush, and there’s a porch out back that needs to be painted. Please do a good job. I’ll pay you what the job is worth."
He said, "That’s great. I will be done quickly."
She went back to her baking and did not think much more about it until there was a knock at the door. She went, and it was obvious he had been painting for he had it on his clothes. She asked, "Did you finish the job?"
He said, "Yes."
She said, "Did you do a GOOD job?" 
He said, "Yes. But lady, there’s one thing I would like to point out to you. That is not a Porsche back there. That is a Mercedes." 

It was only last year that I heard about Holy Humor Sunday, this particular designation for the Second Sunday of Easter.

When I first heard about it—I honestly thought it was a modern, creative solution to the after-Easter blues - For that “low” Sunday after Easter when the once full sanctuary is back to the regular crew, minus a few, who are on vacation; when the pastor, the organist, and the lay leaders are all beat from the activities of Lent, Holy Week and Easter, and people are just coming out of a chocolate Easter bunny coma…

I thought Holy Humor Sunday was another Easter surprise, a new way to lighten things up a bit, focus on something other than the Thomas story we hear every year, a way to remember the joy, exuberance and laughter with which we have greeted the Easter Good News:

                                      Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

                                                He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Well, I was wrong; At least about the ‘modern’ part.

It turns out that the Greeks started Holy Humor celebrations in the early centuries of Christianity, celebrations now being resurrected—pun intended—in American congregations.

For centuries in Eastern Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant countries, the week following Easter was observed as "days of joy and laughter" with parties and picnics to celebrate Jesus' resurrection.

For hundreds of years, churchgoers and pastors played practical jokes on each other during this week and on this Sunday, drenching each other with water, telling jokes even if nowhere near April Fool’s Day, singing and dancing.

The custom was rooted in the musings of early church theologians like Augustine who argued that God played a practical joke on the devil by raising Jesus from the dead.

Risus paschalis – “the Easter laugh," the early theologians called it.

So, one more time…..

A Sunday school teacher was teaching the Ten Commandments to her five and six year olds.

After explaining the commandment to ‘honor thy father and thy mother’, she asked, ‘is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?”

One little boy shouted, “Thou shall not kill”

There you go, a taste of Holy Humor on this Sunday—to honor and celebrate the gift of joy and delight God has given to God’s people and, in the words of Augustine, a day to give thanks for the great joke God played on the devil when God raised Jesus from the dead.         

While we often turn to scripture with great seriousness and holy respect, both of which are appropriate, it’s also true that the scriptures proclaim and encourage joy and laughter and singing and dancing. Take our psalm reading from this morning, for instance.

It’s as if God knew we would too often take ourselves too seriously, and would need to be reminded from time to time, to let go, let God, and lighten up.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the words of Psalm 150, where the imperative is given to faithfully reflect God’s desire for joy and praise and adoration. – Hallel u Yah! Praise God!

This psalm draws the entire psalter to its conclusion –– through a dramatic call to praise that is unambiguous: it summons “everyone who breathes” to praise God.

Coming just a week after Easter Sunday, with the glorious sound of brass and bells and voices raised in song and “alleluia” refrains still fresh in our minds, Psalm 150 reminds us that the effects of the resurrection of Jesus remain and continue.

What joy this good news brings to us. Our gospel lesson assures us that Easter was not just a dream; the risen Jesus appears to his disciples and assures them that he has conquered death through his resurrection, and is still with them.

Jesus assuages the doubts of all of them, and finally of Thomas, that it really, truly is he, Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, who stands before them, still bearing the wounds of his crucifixion.

On this Sunday, Psalm 150, with its imperative to praise God, is paired together with that old story of doubt and faith while the unmistakable intention of God rings out over and over again through the repetition of this command at each the start of every line of the psalm: Praise God!

Praise God in his sanctuary; but not only in this sanctuary; Praise God in the mighty firmaments! The “firmaments” include everything under the dome of the sky for the Hebrew people – in other words, Praise God from every place throughout the entire universe!

The psalm plays out in four parts –

WHO is to be praised? God is to be praised.

WHY God is to be praised? Because God is mighty and God is of unsurpassing greatness.

HOW is God to be praised?

With unsurpassing brilliance of sound – from trumpet all the way to clashing cymbals, with every instrument then known to humankind, with great cacophony of sound, with enthusiasm and even with dance; God is to be praised. With our whole voice, body, brain, being, God is to be praised!

WHO is to DO the praising? The Scriptures reflect the Hebrew idea of completion here – the entire creation, for all that breathes, God is to be praised.

          Psalm 150 begins and ends with Hallel u Yah (in Hebrew, Praise YHWH). So, we remember that this praise is not about us – it is about God.

          Today we come together to praise God who is Creator, Comforter, Savior, and Sovereign. For that is how we experience this God whom we praise and glorify.

          For the beauty which surrounds us this day, the flowering trees, the greening grass, the singing birds, the rain-soaked fields, the deep, broad ocean, the vastness of the sky; we praise God who is Creator.

          For those of us who have experienced the unbearable loss of a child or a spouse, or a parent or relationship; for those who are facing medical or financial challenges yet cope by grace they cannot fully comprehend, God the Sustainer and Comforter is known and experienced in the deep dark night of doubt and fear. Ever-present, ever-sustaining God be praised.

          For all those times we have fallen short, have felt mired in failure, have known that on our own we can never “know enough” or “do enough” – and yet are loved to worthiness by Jesus, we praise God the Savior.

          And for the broad experience of our lives and of our world, for the gifts of creation, salvation, love and mercy, joy and laughter, we praise God as Sovereign over our lives and all that blesses us and besets us. 

Old Testament scholar and teacher Walter Brueggemann, reflecting on this psalm, writes, “the expectation of the Old Testament is not finally obedience but adoration.”

So it is that on this Holy Humor Sunday, in the lightness of our hearts, in the midst of laughter and joy reflected in our alleluias –we are invited to raise our praise and adoration to the eternally surprising God, the mighty and blessed one, who defeats evil and death, and reconciles the world to Godself through scarred and holy hands and feet, an empty tomb, and the message of the ages – Praise God.

We are invited to laugh at what once held us bound, knowing that in Christ we are now set free.

Each Sunday, our Easter celebration continues as we bask in the truth of the resurrection and we Praise God, knowing that the Good News of this day comes in the form of the ever-living God we can trust, who is faithful and just, who is the loving and redeeming Lord of all creation. Hallelu Yah! Hallelu Yah! Hallelu Yah!

The beauty of Psalm 150 -- which calls everyone and everything that breathes to praise God with trumpet, cymbals, and dance, in any and every way possible -- is that it frees one to praise loudly, with clanging and clashing, both in times of triumph and in the day-to-day challenges of life.

In humor and laughter, in joy and song, let the Easter refrain play on, for Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

Amen.