Someone with a little skin on

John 14:1-14

One night, a little girl, Lisa, we’ll call her - lay in her bed as storm clouds gathered outside. Soon, there was a full-blown thunderstorm going on right outside the windows of her bedroom. Thunder crashed and blinding flashes of lightening lit up her bedroom over, and over again.  Little Lisa was frightened. She cried out to her dad, who was in the next room, "Help me."

Immediately, she heard his voice respond, "Honey, God loves you and will take care of you."

Another bolt of lightning and clap of thunder caused Lisa to cry out again, "Daddy!" Again, she heard her father’s voice, "Honey, God loves you and will take care of you."

The storm continued to rage and Lisa, now frightened nearly out of her wits, called out yet again; her father's response was the same. But the little girl replied, "Daddy, I know that God loves me, but right now, I need someone with skin on."

Don’t we know that feeling?

Isn’t that sometimes our experience? I know God loves me, but right now, I need someone with skin on.  When we go through the struggles of life, when we have questions about why losses and difficulties and troubling things come our way, we need someone with skin on.

When we are frightened because the storm has gotten way out of hand and we are facing illness or joblessness or changes in our relationships, even betrayals; when the well-planned future we had counted on shifts and changes and when circumstances out of our control threaten the security we worked so hard to build, we want someone with skin on.

When Jesus came to be born in Bethlehem, he came as God with skin on. As he lived his life as one who was at the same time both fully human and fully divine; as he gathered disciples, ministered, healed, preached and taught his followers, he was, in fact, God-with-us – with skin on.

That is what we call the Incarnation; that in Jesus Christ, God became flesh. Jesus was that “someone with skin on.”

The conversation depicted in today’s gospel lesson took place on the night in which Jesus was to be handed over to the Roman officials. It is his last opportunity, the last word that he can give to his disciples before he leave this mortal plane, and he wants to make clear to his disciples that he is indeed, God with skin on.

In the days and weeks and years to come, Jesus knows that it is essential for them to continue believing that in him, God has come into the world and that God’s physical presence with them, while about to change in substance, will not change in reality.

Believing in Jesus we come to know that one true God – the one who is at once creating and redeeming; the one who transforms us in love; the one who promises never to leave us, but to abide with us forever. And that is a promise that stands – forever.

Jesus is not just “like” God; Jesus is the embodiment of the one true God. Through his life and his teachings he has shown his followers the full-bodied character of God – forgiving, healing, subversive, despising evil, loving good, inclusive, transforming, peace-loving, and possessing power over life; he is God with skin on, and even after his death he showed his disciples that he lives.

In his post-resurrection appearances, Jesus continues to be God-with-us – our God with skin on. As the fully human incarnation, Jesus died on the cross. This was not a theoretical death or an imaginary death. It was a real death, preceded by unimaginable pain and suffering, feelings of abandonment, fear and despair depicted in our scriptures.  Jesus knows well our suffering, for he endured the same.

Just as we will one day die, Jesus truly died on that cross for us. But Jesus changes the reality of what death means for all of us. Because the thing is, Jesus’ resurrection changes more than just our death. It changes our life. And in that night when the still-living friend and master, Jesus, sat down for the last time with his disciples, knowing what was coming that very night, he shared these final words with them.

They are words of hope, and promise, and expectation. “I am the way and the truth and the life,” he tells them, and then he goes on. Believe in me, because in so doing you will know the Father. You will know his love, his forgiveness, his promise.

God has sent his love and presence to you in me, Jesus is telling them, and you will know them simply by the works you have seen in me, the signs you have witnessed, and, in the deeds you do as you follow in my footsteps. Other people will come to know God through you. These, my friends, are the promises of God for abundant life.

The word that we read today as “if” – “if you know me” – could also be translated as since – the same Greek word means both things, and I think translating it this alternative way gives us a better understanding of Jesus’ words. Since you know me you know the Father. Disciples of Jesus know him through his revealing love in action.

And, just as in this gospel of John love is an action word – something you do rather than simply something you feel, knowing God through Jesus and believing in him inspires and even commands a different kind of life, because the truth is, this kind of belief has power over our lives.

Now, it may be that even before today you were familiar with the words of this morning’s gospel because of a funeral that you have attended. Perhaps, even the funeral of a loved one, someone very dear to you. If so, you might be tempted to associate these words only with death; with sadness tinged with hope, with a day you would rather forget. But Jesus gave these words as both comfort and command, as both hope and promise.

So far during this 50-day period of Easter, our gospel texts have reflected Jesus’ post resurrection visits to his disciples and his continued teaching and preparation of them to carry on the mission and ministry to which he devoted and for which he gave his life.

Then, in last week’s gospel, Jesus called himself the gate through which the sheep of God’s own redeeming must pass. Today, Jesus he tells his disciples, on this pivotal night, the night in which he would be handed over to Roman officials to be tried, condemned, and crucified, that he is the Way, calling us out of darkness, into light.

Our identity as God’s children offers us hope and gives us momentum to live as God intends, following the Way of our Savior. Jesus gives us a model and framework within which to understand that this way, which is not always easy and will sometimes lead to struggle, hostility, and an unknown future, but is shaped by the promise offered here in this gospel.

Jesus is the tangible evidence of God in the world – God with skin on. That is the truth and core of Jesus’ very identity. He is God’s attempt to establish meaningful relationship with us. Every religion in the world reflects the human attempt to reach God. Through Christianity, we come to know Jesus as God’s plan to reach humanity. That makes all the difference.

Through the Incarnation, the infinite God took on the form of a tiny baby boy. The Son did not cease to be God when he became a man. He added humanity but he did not subtract deity. He was fully God and fully man. He was, in short, “God with skin on.”

Ponder that for a moment. The Almightiness of God moved in a human arm. The love of God beat in a human heart. The wisdom of God spoke from human lips. The mercy of God reached forth from human hands.

In Jesus, God was wrapped in human flesh, promising for all of eternity a bond with humanity that cannot be broken by suffering or death, by trial or disappointment, by failure and doubt, by fear and despair.

In a few moments, we will confess our faith using the words of the Apostle’s Creed, in the second article of which, we will state who we believe – by the preponderance of our religious identity - Jesus to be. If we could fully believe and embrace those words; if we could fully grasp the meaning of what we say, the troubles of our hearts would be silenced and our faith would be a real power over the whole of our lives. Because we could then experience God with skin on, Jesus Christ, as the real power and fullness of life not only for ourselves but for the world.

My friends, the real power of this gospel is that it contains the uncompromising promise of Jesus that, while still unseen, God abides in us forever, loves us forever, and empowers us to be Christ in the world, revealing the loving nature of God who refuses to let us go, and has gone through such extraordinary lengths to not only prepare a place for us when we die, but to secure our faith, our love, and our commitment to live the life of abundance which we receive in his name, that others may come to know and believe in the one who came to reveal God’s love for the world. By the power of Jesus Christ, God with skin in, may it be so. Amen.

Crossing to the Other Side

Mark 4:35-46

        In the Gospel text today, we see the revelation of Jesus Christ as God’s power and authority in our world. Jesus is God’s abiding presence in the life of the kingdom of God – this life into which God is inviting all people. Jesus is God with us and in our gospel we see God’s power and authority at work as Jesus stills the storm on the Sea of Galilee.  

        In the wake of the events of this week, in the pain and turmoil, chaos and storm stirred up by the massacre that took place in Charleston, Jesus’ words, “Peace. Be still!” are words we desperately need to hear. We need to know that Jesus can and does still the chaos in our broken, terrified hearts. We need to hear that the power of God is still at work, can and will defeat the powers of evil.  

        We need to hear that in the midst of the maelstrom of our world and our lives, Jesus is the power and presence of God; God with us, withstanding and controlling the crashing of the seas and the deafening roar of the wind and finally, stilling them.

        We need to know that when the storm strikes, God remains faithful, eternally walking with us, and beside us, surrounding us with love and even, with peace.  

        Jesus isn’t just asleep in that boat. Jesus, God with us, is inviting us to a sense of calm. Jesus invites us to believe that he is the source of all peace for us, and that God is powerfully present in the midst of whatever storm may strike. Even the most terrifying.

        The name of the historic church in Charleston where such horror and tragedy unfolded this week is Emanuel.

        Emanuel – which means - “God with us.” Despite the way the events of this week brought yet another reminder of the deep brokenness in our world, there were also signs – so many signs of God’s presence – of the ways that God is with us still – in the outpouring of love and support, for instance; in faith communities across the country praying in solidarity with our AME brothers and sisters; in flowers and notes left at the church; in the outrage poured out against all forms of racism and bigotry.

        We were also reminded of how much work is yet to be done in this kingdom of God.

        The shooting this week brought a searing reminder that racism and hatred are powerful conditions of sin and evil that are fed by an increasingly broken and hostile society.

        This is a society in which you and I are members and, like it or not, we must admit our own complicity in the ills of prejudice and intolerance. Forgive us, Father, for the things we have done and left undone.

        We acknowledge that we benefit from the systemic illness of a world in which the divisions between rich and poor, black and white, Christian and any other group, are widening at an astonishing rate in our polarized culture. If nothing else, we begin by admitting that we don’t stand up fiercely enough, loudly enough or often enough – to speak against the daily hurts and assaults various groups in our world endure.

        My brothers and sisters, we not only live in a society in which these things take place, and are beneficiaries of the injustices, but we also participate in activities that influence the systemic ills infecting our world.

        More than ever before, the media, entertainment outlets, and the very rhetoric that surrounds us daily and in which we often engage, profit by images and language promoting violence and racism.

        Think of the last five movies you’ve seen or the last five television programs you watched, the last five books you read. Think of the images, the way certain groups of people are portrayed. Reflect deeply on the language and rhetoric which occurs on the nightly news program you may watch.

        Consider the inflammatory language and images that cross your computer screen, whether you read them or not. What happened the last time you were in a group and someone used derogatory imagery, language or characterization of African Americans or Muslims for instance? Did any one stand up and say that it was wrong? Did you?

        We live in a culture that is increasingly divided racially, economically and politically, though we would like to ignore that fact, or deny it, or hide it, sweep it under the banner of “look how far we’ve come.”

        Eventually, when the tensions and the truth explode in images and actions we cannot ignore, can no longer hide, and we are overwhelmed, the boat of our complacency becomes swamped, and we cry out in horror and fear as the disciples did that day, “Lord, do you not care…that we are perishing?”     

        This week, another senseless shooting, and this time, in a Christian church, right here in America, with brothers and sisters in faith cut down following a bible study and time of prayer with the shooter himself. Incidentally, they were shot and killed - by another Christian. An ELCA Lutheran, (that’s our denomination) in fact. Let’s let that fact sink in.

        Another act of hatred. Another list of names of those who, whether they were 26 years old or 87 years old, were taken far too soon.  “Truly,” we think, “our boat is going down.”     

        And yet, in the midst of this storm, I wonder if you heard what I heard? God with us.  Did you hear the sound of reason, the voice of peace, from what we might think would be the most unlikely of places? Did you hear God’s message of love and unfathomable calm in the midst of the storm as, one after another the families of the victims spoke up?

        They each testified to the deep pain and bewilderment that has overtaken them since Wednesday night. God with us. They each spoke to the searing sense of loss and grief that is, at times overwhelming. But there was also something else that they spoke to: that though they truly walk through the valley of the shadow of death, they will not let evil win the day. God with us.

        They spoke of forgiveness – for the shooter. They spoke of the light of Christ that is abiding with them, the LORD who is walking beside them. Many of the family members – the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters and even grandchildren of the victims testified to their conviction that they would not meet evil with evil, hatred with hatred, but instead would turn to Jesus for their strength both to forgive and to find meaning and healing in their staggering losses.

        There is no going back to the way things were Wednesday morning. The lives of so, so many people are irrevocably altered.  Acknowledging that change, these disciples of Christ extended forgiveness, perhaps as an act of hope – connected to the grace of God they themselves have received at the foot of the cross.

        This kind of forgiveness points to the Word of Jesus from the cross itself. In the cross, this incredible act of evil and hatred is met with love. In the cross of Christ, ironically, we find our peace. God with us.

        Jesus and his disciples are in “the boat” – when Jesus says to his disciples, “Let’s go on, across, to the other side.”

        Crossing to the other side with Jesus is transformational. It means being aware of the conditions in the world around us and committing ourselves to the kingdom work of expanding God’s loving justice, as Jesus himself did.

        Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee that day.

        Filled with awe and wonder, the disciples asked, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” We know the answer – God with us.

        God will not be shaken by any storm. Jesus is God’s peace in the midst of the storm. The wind and seas recognized God with us and obeyed his command. Now, in the midst of our storm, Jesus issues the invitation to discipleship, calling those who follow him to go where he has called, confident that he is with them, confident that no evil will truly overtake us when he is at our side.  

        With Jesus Christ, God with us, let us commit ourselves to crossing the racial divide in our land, the widening economic divide between rich and poor, and all divisions in our socio-economic landscape. Crossing to the other side can raise up storms and risk danger, even unto death, especially because people will get stirred up, but let us not fear, but hope, because Jesus is God with us.

Amen.