God is Calling your Name!

Easter Sunday 2016 – Year C-RCL

Note:  This sermon was preached in both English and Spanish.

Acts 10:34-43

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

1 Corinthians 15:19-26

John 20:1-18

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him." Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus' head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, `I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'" Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Today we heard one of my favorite passages from the Gospel of John.  There is a lot going on here.  First Mary – upon finding the empty tomb runs back to get the disciples – all of those men locked in a room for fear that they might be the next ones to find themselves on a cross.  All of those locked in despair that the one they thought would truly overthrow empire and bring the reign of God into their lives was dead.

So upon hearing that the tomb was empty – and forgetting that Christ told them that the Love that was hung on the cross would not die went to see for themselves.  They ran and found the tomb as Mary has said.  Empty. The linen death shroud left behind.  And then all but Mary return to their homes. 

Mary stays.  Why?  Why does she not go back to her locked room?  Perhaps she stays because she is so overcome with grief that she cannot move.  Perhaps she cannot imagine leaving the last place she saw the body of her savior and friend.  The reason doesn’t matter – she stays.  In her grief she stays and wonders.  Wonders what it all means.  Perhaps she is wondering how it could have gotten to the point where Christ was crucified. 

We too are often in that place with Mary.  When we experience loss or despair we may end up hanging out in the garden and wonder.  Our grief may be so deep that we have nothing.  Not even enough energy to make it back to safety. 

Perhaps with all of the news of man’s inhumanity to man you are in that place now.  The terror attacks around the world.  The bombing in Brussels and bombings in other places.   The lack of housing for people here in Sacramento.  Perhaps you have lost a loved one or a job – or someone you know has.  Where do we go?  The despair can be so real that is can paralyze. 

Every night this week we have been hosting people from winter sanctuary in our sanctuary.  And is has, at times, been messy.  We have had to scramble to make the church ready for services – especially on Good Friday.  And I am sure we sometimes wonder if we are doing the right thing.  Letting people sleep in the church.

On Thursday - while I was doing the last minute things before the dinner – being the good acolyte and lighting the candles I ran across a young gentleman just standing in the back of the church.

  When I stopped to talk to him he said to me “You know. For some reason that I cannot explain I cried the first time I came into this space.”  I mentioned that I found various places to be thin places – where the earth we inhabit and the place of God are close together. And for me that often happens in churches where prayer has soaked into the walls for many years.   He nodded and with tear-filled eyes continued there in prayer until he joined us in our agape meal.

That young man finds himself in a place of grief.  Where the presence of God is enough to bring him to tears.  And he doesn’t know why.  Just that it happens.  That is where we find Mary – in a grief so deep she cannot see.

And Mary – blind in her grief – sees a man – sees Jesus but does not recognize him.  Her grief is so strong that she is still looking for a dead body – not a living man.  So she asks where the body is so she can prepare it for a proper burial.  She too has forgotten the promise Jesus made to them while he was still teaching them – that he would die and that he would – on the third day – be raised from the dead.

She can’t imagine anything else.  Grief has closed out every possibility.  And Jesus does something so tender.  He calls her by name.  Mary.  Not like your mother calling you to come into dinner – for the third time – the time when you know she means it – complete with first and middle names – but tenderly.  The calling of the name that in infused with love and comfort.  Mary.

And at the moment Jesus called her name Mary’s eyes are open – the grief falls from her eyes like scales – or at least enough of the grief that she suddenly sees Jesus. 

I can just see her go from tears of grief to tears of joy.  I can see the smile slowly form.  And Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has kept his promise and has risen from the dead.

And Mary – her grief turned to Joy runs to the locked room.  She runs to them and as the first Christian preacher declares “I have seen the Lord.” 

That is the promise of Easter.  That in our deepest despair.  Even at our death God is calling our names.  Each and every one.  God is calling.  Softly.  Lovingly.  Rik.  Anne.  CeeCee. Manuel.  Lisa.  Miguel. Christine.  Ruth.  God is calling your name.  All of our names.  Not with a voice that says you have done something wrong but with that love filled, comfort filled voice.

The Love that has hung of the Cross cannot be killed.  It continually calls our names.  Lovingly.  That Love calls us to open our hearts and to show that love to the loveless.  It is that love that calls us to open our doors to those who have no place.  It calls us to go say “I have seen the Lord”.  

Indeed I have seen the Lord.  I have seen the Lord of Love in the faces of those who rejoice in a safe place to sleep.  I have seen the Lord in the hands that lovingly clean the church.  I have seen the lord in the many ways that the people of God act to show God’s Love to all of his creation.

Alleluia!  Christ is Risen!

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

Sermon for Easter Vigil 2016

Preached at St. Paul’s

Luke 24:1-12

On the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women who had come with Jesus from Galilee came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  That is the phrase that leapt of the page when I tonight’s gospel.  Why do you look for the living among the dead?  Tonight we remembered through our readings of the Hebrew Scripture God’s promise throughout the ages that God is not dead – no matter what anyone may tell you!  God’s pursuit for goodness, redemption and love for God’s creation is relentless.  The unfortunate part is that we don’t always see it. 

With all of the violence and hatred loose in our world it is easy to miss God.  It is easy to miss the beauty and love of creation and only see the destruction and cruelty of man.  It is easy in our world of instant news updates to focus on the terror of bombings by radical extremists throughout the world.  When the latest attacks in Brussels saturated our news it was easy to be led into the darkness.  To only see the death – and not the amazing things that happen to bring life to the world.  To only see the dead and not the living.

This past week we walked with Jesus towards death – just as the disciples in our Gospel reading walked with Jesus to Crucifixion.  We remembered on Thursday the commandment that to follow the Christ means to be servants and not masters.  We washed feet in remembrance of Jesus washing the Disciples feet and we heard the great commandment to Love one another as Christ Loves Us… and yet the very next moment in our liturgical drama of Holy week is death – or so it seems.  Man hung the Love that came to walk among us on a cross.

And this morning this church was empty.  The black draped cross was still at the foot of the bare altar.  All of the sacrament had been consumed.  There was an emptiness.  Yet in that empty space we remembered that Christ was busy during the three days that his earthly body lay in the tomb.  We remembered his decent to the dead.  The Harrowing of hell where Christ offered life to those who said no to life – and as tradition has it pulled up the first people – Adam and Eve – and raised them to new life.

And tonight we look at a church resplendent in her Easter finery – and she does “clean up” rather nicely.  We lit the new fire and heard proclaimed the Light of Christ.  But sometimes we don’t see that light.  We only see the tomb.  We peek into the party and wonder what they did with the body.  We still see, taste and feel death.  We can’t imagine anything else. 

(pause)

In January I had the great privilege and gift to join others on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  A place filled with conflicting messages. A place filled with ancient holy sites and also with mankind walling of other men for what they call safety - but is really more punitive.  A place where Bethlehem is in occupied territory and where our bus had to go through armed checkpoints to get to our hotel.  In the place where Jesus was born there is occupation while a stone throws away is the City of Jerusalem on the hill.  A city of holy sites for Christians, Jews and Muslims.  On one side of the wall electricity and water could cease at any moment while on the other side of the wall there is no fear of the sudden loss of power and water for no apparent reason. 

It is in this place I walked the stations of the cross and stood in the place where traditions says we Crucified Christ.  Where we hung Love on the cross.  And there too in the church of the Holy Sepulcher is the site of the empty tomb.  After walking the Stations of the Cross – starting at the archeological site of gabatha – the pavement and ending at Calgary I too could only bring myself to tentatively look into the empty tomb.  I could not shake off the sites and sounds of the Via Delarosa – the way of the cross.

Early the next morning – like the disciples in our story I went back to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and there when the Organ sprang to life for a service at the empty tomb I could hear the angel say “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  I stayed and explored the church and the old city of Jerusalem in a new light.  Christ was not on the Cross.  Christ was not in the Tomb.  Christ was in the people I saw on the streets.  Christ was in the children of the Crèche Project in Bethlehem where the Christian church provides shelter to rape victims so that they can safely have their child.  A place where people literally dig abandoned newborns out of dumpsters and provide a space of love and safety.  

I see the living Christ here at St. Paul’s when we make and give out sack lunches to the hungry.  I see the living Christ when we invite people into the church who are afraid of the church – afraid that they might not be pure enough or clean enough, or who have been injured by the church – when we invite them into the love of Christ I see that indeed the tomb is empty.  When I see people listening to those who have no one to listen to them I see that indeed the tomb is empty because Christ is alive. 

I experienced the living Christ and the empty tomb last Thursday at St. Matthew’s.  The church is hosting winter sanctuary this month and 80 to 100 homeless people are sleeping in the sanctuary every night– including tonight.  On Thursday we offered our guests an opportunity to have their feet washed – get a fresh pair of Sock (Thank you all who provided socks) and to attend an Agape Meal that included a Eucharist. While I was doing the last minute things before the dinner – being the good acolyte and lighting the candles - I ran across a young gentleman just standing in the back of the church.  When I stopped to talk to him he said to me “You know. For some reason that I cannot explain I cried the first time I came into this space.”  I mentioned that I found various places to be thin places – where the earth we inhabit and the place of God are close together. And for me that often happens in churches where prayer has soaked into the walls for many years.   He nodded and with tear-filled eyes continued there in prayer until he joined us in our agape meal.

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  The living Christ was standing before me.  A homeless man who needs to find shelter.  A homeless man sleeping in a sanctuary.  There stood the Christ.  Crying for the dream that Love will break out in our world where hatred, sexism and xenophobia and all the other “isms” seem to be in charge.  That is why we are here this night.  To remember the empty tomb.  To remember that God will continue to pursue us in his dream of love all the way to death and beyond. 

Tonight we are reminded that in the places where we see death that God sees life.  Our God loves his creation so much that again and again God comes to us.  God offers us ways to repent form death and turn to life and Love.  There is nothing that can stop the pursuit of the Love of God.  Not even hanging that Love on the cross.  The tomb cannot contain that Love.  The dream of God is that one day we too will see that love.  That all of mankind will come to see that no matter how many times we try to kill love and lock it away in the tomb it will not stay in the tomb.  Love will continue over and over and over  again to get up out of the tomb and walk in the garden.

Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here.  He is risen.”

Alleluia!  Christ is Risen!

A Hard Journey

Sermon for Palm Sunday

The Liturgy of the Palms

Luke 19:28-40

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

The Liturgy of the Word

Isaiah 50:4-9a

Philippians 2:5-11

Luke 22:14-23:56

Today marks the beginning of Holy Week.  A week full of emotions that are so powerful that many people may choose not to participate.  It is a week that starts today with the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.  On Maundy Thursday we will gather here to remember our call to be servants for God and to remember the institution of the last supper – to hear the commandment to Love one another.  On Good Friday we go to the tomb – to death on the cross.  A day that is hard.  So hard. 

I am not looking forward to Good Friday – as usual - but this year is hard.  I am not sure that I am ready to remember the way of the cross so soon after walking along the path where Jesus took his last steps when I visited Jerusalem in January – but on Friday I will go there again.

So what is with today?  We get an encapsulation of Jesus the King at the beginning and then have the reading of the passion narrative.  Our emotions today go from elation as we proclaim Christ the king to despair at leaving Christ in the tomb.  It really is too much.  And really you don’t need a sermon.  The narrative is powerful.  But let me share with you what stood out for me.

As I was reading the Passion Narrative getting ready for today one part stood out for me this year.  It is Jesus at the mount of Olive. 

The Mount of Olives is a beautiful place.  From it you can see Jerusalem across the Kidron Valley.  Even today it is a peaceful place.  There are olive trees that have been confirmed to be from the time of Jesus still growing on the Mount of Olive.

Lets listen to that part of the Gospel again.

“He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. When he reached the place, he said to them, "Pray that you may not come into the time of trial." Then he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, knelt down, and prayed, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done." Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. “

In its beauty the place where Jesus likely prayed before his arrest and crucifixion is powerful.  It was one of the many thin places I found in Israel where the veil between this hurting planet and the dream of God – the reign of Love are close to each other. 

The Mount of Olives was obviously a place where Jesus found a thin place as well.  There are a number of stories recorded in the Gospels of Jesus withdrawing there to pray.  

And during his last night as a free man – just before his arrest he withdrew and prayed.  “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done." Jesus prayed that the moment Jesus knew was coming could be avoided – a truly human response.  And the text says God sent an Angel to be with Jesus and to give him strength.  And Jesus continued to pray – to pray for himself and for strength in the trials that were to come.   And Jesus prayed for us – He prayed so earnestly that his tears where like blood. 

Our invitation on this most holy of weeks is to join Jesus in prayer.  To follow the story as we leave the Mount of Olives on the way to the cross.  We are invited to find those thin places in our world where we can sense the presence of God’s Love.  To find a way this week to accompany Jesus from the shouts of a crowd welcoming a king to the shouts for crucifixion. 

We are invited to follow Jesus all the way to the cross and the tomb.  It is a hard journey.  One that takes much prayer – and one that is hard for many.  Like some of Jesus followers we may fall asleep.  Like the disciples we may only be able to witness the events of this week from a distance.  We may want to stay on the Mount of Olives until next Sunday – the day we remember that the Love we hung on a Cross refused to die.  And that is OK.  If the Mount of Olives is as far as you can come on this Holy Week stay there and pray. 

As I said at the beginning of this sermon I am not sure that I am ready to take the final walk with Jesus to the cross this year.  But I know I will go there - and I invite you to walk with me.  To spend time today on the Mount of Olives in prayer with Jesus and to follow him to the cross. 

This week’s journey is hard.  And I invite you to join the Church on the journey.  A journey that leads to the cross.  But ultimately a journey that leads to the celebration of the empty tomb on Easter.  A journey where we remember that God’s love will not die.

Amen.