Search This Blog

Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts

Sunday, May 14, 2017

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.



Monday, June 23, 2014

An Unlikely Response to Fear

          I don’t know about you, but the first time I read through these lessons, (Jeremiah 10:7-13; Psalm 67:7-18; Romans 6:1b-11, Matthew 10:24-39) there was one overwhelming reaction that I had to them – despair. These, my friends, are tough readings! In fact, I have to tell you, my first thought was, what a good week this would have been to have brought in a guest preacher. How to address these challenging texts?
But then, I kept coming back to them, and I was reminded how God’s promise and encouragement seep through the words of even the most challenging texts. Isn’t it just like God to challenge and teach us through this living Word of God.
In the gospel text today we read about some of the challenges and threats that may afflict Jesus’ disciples. Following Christ is risky. As Jesus points out, all kinds of distractions and dangers await. Discipleship sometimes, though not always, feels like a one step forward, two steps back kind of proposition. It takes vision, trust and courage to be a disciple of Christ. It takes endurance.
Three times in this short gospel passage, Jesus says, “do not be afraid.” That is the dominant message here. Do not be afraid. No matter what fate awaits those who follow Jesus’ call to follow him, to witness and serve in his name, Jesus’ compassionate, persistent message is, “have no fear.” Jesus knows the power of fear. Jesus knows how squeamish fear can make even the most faithful and devoted of Jesus’ followers.
We, too, are well acquainted with the power of fear, because it affects all of us at various times and in the various spheres of our lives. Let’s face it: Fear drives our economy, fear can and often does impact and influence our political process – just think of the headlines and political claims that dominate every news cycle during election years, for example – so many of them, driven. by. fear.
There are times when we might fear for our loved ones, or for our jobs. We might fear for our health or for changes taking place in our lives; we fear where the future will lead. We might fear the rise of crime in the streets and in our schools. We fear that war will never truly cease.
The problem with fear is that it cripples those caught in its crosshairs. Fear can silence us even when we know we should speak. It causes stress and stress affects us physically, emotionally and spiritually. Fear keeps some of us from sleeping well at night, adversely affects our focus, and can overtake our decision-making and limit our creative processes.
A few years ago, after I had been taking voice lessons for a year or so, I was scheduled to sing a beautiful song from the Messiah called “Come Unto Him” during our church’s annual Advent Lessons and Carols program. I had been singing and preparing this song for months, and I knew it better than I knew about any other song or hymn in my repertoire. It was, however, the first time I had really sung a solo in a program like this, in many, many years.
The afternoon arrived for the service. Rehearsals went smoothly. In fact, in rehearsal, my solo went beautifully - better than it had ever gone before, my voice strong and clear, those high notes perfectly in tune. Following the rehearsal and before the service, we shared a wonderful potluck meal, and then it was time for Lessons and Carols to begin.
As I sat with the choir waiting to sing my solo, though, nerves began to set in. My heart started to race and pound. My breathing changed. I felt all sweaty and overheated. Fear began to overwhelm me. When I finally got up to sing, I took a deep breath, opened my mouth - and barely a sound came forth.
I wish I could say that soon, the prayers I was desperately praying for my voice to immediately come unto me, worked and suddenly my voice was healed and restored, but no. That is not the case. Instead, it felt like a heavy damp cloth had been thrown over my vocal cords. I tried to push, to sing through the restriction, but nothing worked. It’s possible that something I ate or drank during the meal affected my vocal cords, but I doubt that was it. I think it was fear that took my voice away.
That’s how fear works. It might cause our heart to pound and even to beat faster, but it also constricts blood vessels, so the work of our heart becomes less effective. Fear makes us uncomfortable, it makes our breath hitch as classic “fight or flight” physical changes and reactions overtake us. Suddenly our ability to think, to act, to problem solve all vanish. Fear makes our voice change and shake, and sometimes, it mutes them.
Such paralyzing fear can steal our joy and be the death of discipleship.
What is it that drives our fear and keep us from participating fully in the God’s mission? How might fear mute our proclamation of the good news of mercy and grace that we experience at the hand of God; what makes our hearts beat ineffectively? What keeps us from shouting from the rooftops, the wonder of God’s creative and redeeming love? Does fear limit our capacity to embrace, and to fully follow the cross of Christ?
For many of us the fear of conflict or the risk of judgment can stifle our voices. Gone are the days of a Christian society that supports church activity and involvement. Gone is the cultural support for claiming allegiance to church institutions or to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Gone is the societal practice of honoring adherence to religious activity or worship.
Instead, external demands on our time – and our many and varied commitments may make it feel risky to place priority in time consuming religious activity, and even riskier to testify to our faith experience and beliefs. Jesus reminds us that adherence to the gospel and following in Christ’s footsteps will not always be easy.
In our gospel text today, Jesus acknowledges the power of fear. He acknowledges that faithful proclamation and practice of the gospel will put the disciples on a collision course with the powers of this world. Jesus acknowledges that those fears are not unfounded but are very, very real - And yet, Jesus says, “do not be afraid.”
Seems like a contradiction, doesn’t it?
And yet, my brothers and sisters in Christ: this phrase, “do not fear, do not be afraid”, is a characteristic hallmark of Good News throughout Scripture, in one form or another appearing some 365 times. Anytime a messenger of God begins a message with the words “Do not fear” you can be sure that good news is about to come…but you also know that there’s a reason you’re being told not to fear in the first place: the messenger knows that, all things being equal, fear is warranted here. So, 365 times throughout the scriptures – the equivalent of one time per day each day of the year, God sends this message – do not be afraid. Even though it is more than likely that on any given day, 365 days of the year, somewhere, something is happening that would cause any reasonable person to be afraid; still, Jesus encourages his disciples:  “do not fear”… .Rather, fostered by Jesus’ instruction “do not fear” and equipped with the promise “you are of more value than many sparrows” and “I am with you always, to the end of the age”, we are bold to face these challenges, and so many more, not with fear but with excitement and anticipation for the new God can and will bring.
Jesus invites his disciples instead to have courage, and to know that their courage is rooted in God’s promise. For we worship a God of resurrection and life. And if we have died with Christ, we believe that we—and all creation—will also live with him. Jesus went to the cross so that God’s promise of everlasting life, and of new life through baptism would be secured. God’s love has dictated that the kingdom of heaven was inaugurated with the coming of Christ and sealed through his death and resurrection cannot and will not be threatened by any of the powers of the earth. And so, Jesus encourages us, do not be afraid to speak, to follow, to hope, to live this faith – instead, proclaim the gospel “in the light and from the housetops” because this proclamation is the most powerful tool we possess against fear and the powers of the world.
Jesus promises that nothing can take away God’s promise, no one can drive away God’s continuing presence, and nor dim God’s ultimate protection. God alone has power over our body and our spirit. God is present in the world in mercy and compassion and will never leave our sides.
Friends, Paul reminds us in the epistle reading today, “Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so too we might walk in newness of life.” Let us boldly remember, therefore, Jesus’ encouragement, “do not fear” and may God strengthen us to not fear the challenges that surround us, but to enter them with confidence and joy, not on our own accord but on account of Christ who lives within us. Amen.