Monday, April 25, 2011

Come and See!


Matthew 28:1-10
Easter Sunday, April 24, 2011

It was still dark when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to visit the tomb.  In the pre-dawn light they approached the tomb and saw the large stone at the door of the tomb.  Maybe this is all they expected to see, maybe they were just coming to the tomb to grieve and weep.  But the fact that they were up that early, leaving behind all their morning chores to visit the tomb, makes me think that they hoped for something more.  It almost seems as if heaven and earth were just waiting for the women to get to the tomb, because as they arrived suddenly there was a great earthquake and they saw an angel descend from heaven and roll back the stone and sit on it! 

This angel looked like lightning – blindingly bright in the pre-dawn light.  This was not a cute little cherub, but a terrifying vision.  It is as if the snow-white clothing is barely containing the glory of this angel.  The guards, presumably strong men with weapons who were there to protect the tomb, shook and became like dead men.  And yet the women did not run away and they did not fall down; I believe they had come to see what God was up to, hoping against all hope that Jesus would be raised from the dead, just as he had promised.

Certainly they were not disappointed.  Terrified?  Yes.  But not disappointed.  The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; 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’” (v. 5-7). 

Filled with fear and great joy, the women quickly ran to tell the disciples.  And suddenly – just as suddenly as the earthquake had occurred – Jesus met the women and greeted them.  The women first saw an angel, and then an empty tomb; and now they see Jesus himself, standing there.  The women fall at his feet and worship him.  Jesus says to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me” (v. 10). 

As the sun peaks over the horizon on this first day of the week the women let go of the feet of Jesus and run to tell the disciples the good news: He is risen! He is risen indeed!  We saw an angel of the Lord!  We have seen the empty tomb! We have seen and touched our Lord!  On this morning it is the witness of these two women that rocks our world and forever changes our lives.  

And yet, some of us hear this story and remain unmoved by it.  Some of us have never encountered angels.  We’ve never seen an empty tomb.  We are unaware of ever touching the feet of Jesus.  We’re here this Sunday because it is Easter.  But we don’t really understand why this story matters – we don’t see why the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead two thousand years ago makes any difference to us today.

I would even go so far as to say that some of us love Jesus, and seek to follow his teachings, and yet nothing in our day-to-day lives points to the importance of the resurrection.  We may call ourselves Christian, and yet live as functional atheists.  The teachings of Jesus impact our moral choices – we seek to love our neighbors as Jesus did – but the death and resurrection of Jesus have no direct bearing on our daily lives. 

I fear that too often this is exactly where the church is.  Like Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, we come and see; unlike these women we remain unchanged by the encounter at the tomb.  Maybe it is because we don’t believe in angels – or we only think of angels as people who are fundamentally good, failing to comprehend that angels are messengers from God.  Maybe it is because we are afraid to look in the tomb to see if the body is really gone, and if we do look we immediately begin to wonder who stole it or we begin to wonder if Jesus ever really died.  Maybe our doubt or our grief would have held us at the tomb and we never would have run to tell the disciples what we had seen.  Did you notice that it was when the two Mary’s ran to tell the others what they had seen that they encountered the risen Christ?

The empty tomb promises new life – abundant life – eternal life.  Resurrection means more than life beyond the grave; the resurrection of Jesus means death no longer has dominion over us.  We have nothing to fear.  As both the angel and Jesus said to the women, “Do not be afraid.”  For we are not alone.  Jesus has gone before us to Galilee – to the region where he grew up, the place where he worked as a carpenter, the towns were he taught about the kingdom of God and called people to repent, the country side where he healed the sick and cast out demons, the sea where he walked on water.  Jesus has gone before his disciples to their hometowns and their families.  And Jesus goes before us to our homes and families and places of work and friends.


The resurrected Jesus is already there, waiting for you to run and tell others about the empty tomb.  If we believe Jesus is already there, then we know we have nothing to fear.  We can invite the Holy Spirit to work in our lives to change us – to open our ears so we can listen to angels for a message from God – to give us the courage to look in the empty tomb and believe Jesus truly has been raised from the dead – to run and tell others the good news.  He is risen!  He is risen indeed!  And when we take this leap of faith, perhaps for the first time, perhaps again, perhaps daily, we can be assured that we will encounter Jesus everywhere we look. 

In just a few moments six youth will come forward to be confirmed.  This is the moment when they will confirm their faith in Jesus Christ and commit to continuing to grow as disciples of Jesus Christ.  Certainly part of this commitment includes a desire to love God and to follow the teachings of Jesus. To do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.

But we confirm the youth on Easter as a reminder of God’s confirmation of His love for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  It is the risen Christ at work in us who enables each one of these youth to say, “I believe”.  It is the risen Christ at work in us who enables each one of us to encounter the risen Christ in the other – the poor, the sick, the hungry, the naked, the lost, the imprisoned, the young, the elderly.  It is the risen Christ who empowers us to go to the towns of Galilee – or the towns of Alamance – and teach about the kingdom, heal the sick, and free those who are captive to sin and death. 

On this Easter, Christ invites you to come and see.  Come and see the empty tomb and do not be afraid.  Come and see the bread and wine and taste the goodness of our Lord.  Come and see the risen Christ and worship Him and be changed. 

And then go! Go with the assurance that that Easter morning so long ago really did change everything.  Go and meet the risen Christ out there in the world in everyone you meet. Go, and do not be afraid, for Jesus Christ is with you.

Who Is This Man?

Matthew 21:1-11
Palm/Passion Sunday, April 17, 2011


What a strange morning!  We have gone from shouting “Hosanna” to crying “Crucify Him!” Who is this Jesus, that we could honor and praise him one moment and nail him to a cross the next?  Who is this man that caused so much turmoil in Jerusalem so many years ago? Who is this Jesus who continues to cause turmoil in Jerusalem?  Who is this man we’ve waged wars over? Who is this man people have been willing to die for? 

This man is none other that Jesus who entered Jerusalem on a donkey so long ago.  Jerusalem was the place where God resided in the Temple, this was where people went to worship God.  And on that morning long ago, pilgrims from all over the land were going to Jerusalem for the annual celebration of the Passover.  The people were deeply confident that God will not forget God’s people.  After all, God freed the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt and brought them to a land flowing with milk and honey – the same land God had promised to Abraham.  And in this land, King David united the tribes of Israel, giving the ark of the covenant a home in Jerusalem, and establishing peace.  
And yet the peace did not last.  The people turned away from the one true God and worshipped other gods.  The country was torn apart by internal strife and then by external forces.  Most of the sons of David ruled selfishly, seeking power and wealth rather than the good of the people of God.  There were wars and more wars.  And the people were exiled to Babylon and the throne of David sat empty.  The truth is, there had never really been peace.  Even on this day, as people flocked into Jerusalem waving palm branches, the land was ruled by a Roman governor named Pontius Pilate.  Israel had not had a Son of David ruling over the land for more than 500 years.

What a strange day! On this day the crowds who streamed into Jerusalem were seeing prophecy fulfilled.  Zechariah’s words seemed to be coming true right before their very eyes! “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey... and he shall command peace!” (Zech 9:9-10).  The crowds were throwing their cloaks on the road, creating a royal way for this king.  Others were cutting palm branches to spread on the road.  The crowds were welcoming their king, much like we welcome fame and royalty by rolling out the red carpet.  What a day!

And as they welcomed this king shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David, they were drawing from Psalm 118 – the last psalm in the Hallel, a song sung at the conclusion of the Passover meal.  Hosanna literally means “save us” – and Psalm 118 reads, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.  Save us, we beseech you, O Lord! ... Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord... Bind the festal procession with branches” (v. 24-28). 

Here is their king, at last! Humble and riding on a donkey. The Son of David, come to save the people.  It really wasn’t surprising that the people of Jerusalem were in turmoil.  Their question, “Who is this man?” speaks to their fears – fear of unrest, fear of upheaval, fear that everything is about to change.  At the same time, their question, “Who is this man?” speaks to their doubts.  How can it be that a man from Nazareth can do anything?  Where is his war horse?  Where are his chariots?  His army?  How can this man who enters Jerusalem with a rag tag group of followers become king?

And yet, their question, “Who is this man?” also speaks to their hopes.  Perhaps this prophet from Nazareth is the one who saves.  Perhaps he is the Son of David who will ascend the royal throne.  Perhaps he is the Messiah, the anointed one, who will bring peace.  Perhaps...

Who is this man?  On this Sunday we live in this place of fear and doubt and hope.  We know how this story unfolds.  We know this man isn’t riding into Jerusalem to claim an earthly throne.  We know that one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, will betray him for 30 pieces of silver.  We know his closest disciples will be unable to watch and pray with Jesus, falling asleep in his hour of need.  We know the crowds – the very same crowds that shouted “Hosanna!” – will shout, “Let him be crucified!”  We know Jesus will be mocked as he hangs on the cross: “If you are the Son of God come down from the cross... He trusts in God; let God deliver him!”  We know that with his last breath Jesus will feel like he has been abandoned by everyone, even by God: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

We know all this, and yet... This is not the king we expected.  He did not take power, the way we thought he would.  As a matter of fact, he let the powers that be crush him.  He remained silent, not answering a single charge, when he was before the governor.  He did not fight.  He did not talk back to those who mocked him.  He did not behave like a king.

Who is this man that this would happen?  This man is none other than Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace.  His kingdom is not of this world, where the forces of evil enter into even the best of our intentions, causing us to shout “Hosanna” one day and “Crucify Him” the next.  But in Jesus the kingdom of heaven has been brought near.  So near that we can see it – just look at the cross!  Rather than rule by force, Jesus ruled from a cross.  Rather than fight violence with violence, Jesus proclaimed peace in his very body.  Shamed and humiliated by the powers of this world, Jesus announced victory by his actions.  Jesus was obedient to God, even unto death.   As one who knew no sin, Jesus became the unblemished Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  In his act of total submission, Jesus brought peace.

Now, when we ask, who is this man, we know this man is none other than Jesus Christ, Son of God, Lord and Savior.  When the powers of hell and death thought they had done their worst, killing the Lord and Creator of the universe, God had the final word: RESURRECTION!  On the third day, Jesus was raised from the dead and given all authority in heaven and on earth.  And this King Jesus deeply loves His people – all of them! He rules with compassion and kindness, claiming only the power that comes from above. He judges fairly in all things, always giving us another chance to repent.  For our king has experienced the evil of this world.  He knows the depth of the forces of hell and death.  He has seen us betray and deny him and mock him.  Yet he invites us to be reconciled.  He invites us to find peace.  He invites us to look at the cross and affirm, “Truly this man is God’s Son!”


***********************


In 1st John we are reminded that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.  If we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.  Therefore, let us confess our sins before God and one another using the prayer printed in the bulletin:
 
Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen. 

L:  Hear the good news: Christ died for us while we were yet sinners.  That proves God’s love for us.  Friends, if God is for us, who can be against us?  In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven! 

C:  In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!
A:  Glory to God.  Amen.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Are You Hungry for New Life?


Fourth Sermon of Four on Holy Communion
Fifth Sunday in Lent / April 10, 2011
John 11:1-45

Jesus weeps.  When Jesus saw Mary weeping and the Jews who were with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.  And Jesus began to weep.  Lazarus, the one Jesus loved, was dead.  He had been in the tomb for four days.  Mary and Martha and the Jews were still actively mourning his death.  Their brother was gone.  Their friend was dead.  The sadness and grief in the story is palpable.

I’ve had a very difficult time with this story this week.  We are still actively mourning the death of Marie Neese.  Our sister and friend is gone.  Earlier this week, as I sat in this sanctuary praying, my tears flowed with the weight of grief.  Tears flowed, not just for Marie, but for Ben and Peggy and Eula Mae.  And for friends and family in my own life who have died.  And for those in this congregation who you love dearly – people I only know by your stories.  Too many to name.  This week, the weight of grief threatened to overwhelm me.

I find comfort in knowing that Jesus weeps with us.  As I sat in this sanctuary, I knew with certainty that Jesus was right next to me, crying too.  In these times of sadness, Jesus sits with us, with tears flowing down his face; his heart is broken, too.  God knows the depth of our loss, having lost his only Son.  God knows in God’s very being the depth of our pain and sorrow.  And God weeps.

Another very natural response to loss is anger.  I hear that anger in both Martha’s and Mary’s accusation: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died!”  Lord, you gave sight to a blind man; you healed others who were sick.  I mean, come on! You created the whole world and everything in it!  Why couldn’t you have been here, so my brother would not have died?  I can identify with this anger.  I recognize in this anger that we don’t understand God’s ways; that loss hurts.  Even as we affirm with Martha, “I know [my brother] will rise again in the resurrection on the last day,” this time of sorrow is not easy.  Knowing the resurrection is coming doesn’t help right now.  Death means loss.  Death means change.  Death means things will never be the same again.

The theme for this fourth sermon in our series on Communion is “Hungry for New Life.”  It strikes me that in the midst of grief we are not necessarily hungry for new life.  Rather, we want the old life back.  We don’t like change.  Even as our heads acknowledge that the quality of life of our loved ones had virtually disappeared, our hearts want those loved ones back.  In our story today, Lazarus is given back to his sisters and his community.  Jesus, standing at the tomb, cries in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And Lazarus does come out, bound in strips of cloth – his burial clothes.  After four days in the grave, Lazarus is given new life.

Notice I didn’t say Lazarus was given back his old life.  After four days in the grave, Lazarus would never be the same again.  Mary and Martha and the Jews who witnessed this scene would never be the same again.  We miss the point of the story if we think life went back to the way it was.  Jesus had told his disciples that this illness would lead to God’s glory; that Lazarus’s death would lead many to believe.  Many of the Jews who saw Lazarus come out of the grave believed in Jesus that day.  Later in John’s gospel we learn that crowds came to see Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  And the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death along with Jesus, since it was on account of Lazarus that many of the Jews were believing in Jesus (12:9-11).  No, Lazarus was not given back his old life; he was raised to new life – a life of witness to the power of Jesus; a life filled with curious people who came to see him; a life that was constantly threatened by death.

Many of us really are not hungry for new life.  And yet, God gives us new life, again and again.  This week I’ve been thinking about a boy named Teddy.  When I was in eighth grade, Teddy joined the youth group at my church.  Teddy was odd.  He was a little overweight, he didn’t seem to care much about his appearance, and he didn’t know the Bible stories like the rest of us.  Teddy was different.  Teddy and I became friends.  I remember spending hours on the phone with him after school talking about everything under the sun.  I remember him trying to catch me in a dark corner of the church to kiss me.  I remember us sitting as close together as we could at youth group – no hand-holding was allowed. 

Over the next two years, my friendship with Teddy cycled – sometimes we were quite close, other times we barely talked.  I struggled with the ways Teddy was so different from my other friends, and sometimes deliberately pushed him away.  On Christmas Eve when we were both in the tenth grade, Teddy found me after our worship service and gave me a present – it was so clearly a piece of jewelry.  I opened the box and found a beautiful gold necklace with a little diamond chip in it.  I felt horrible because it had not even occurred to me to get Teddy a present.  Actually, I didn’t even want to be Teddy’s friend any more.  And yet, here was this gift.

Two weeks later I learned that Teddy was dead.  He and a friend had skipped school, stolen a gun, gotten high, and played Russian roulette.  The bullet found Teddy – and my life and the life of so many others was forever changed.  I didn’t want new life.  I wanted Teddy back.  I wanted a chance to be his friend again, to thank him for the Christmas present.  And as I tried to cling to the past, I found my own life being sucked out of me. 

As grief took its natural course I slowly quit looking back and asking all the “what if” questions and slowly began looking forward.  I discovered that God had given me new life.  First, I found new life through an Emmaus weekend where I experienced the power of God’s love.  Then I experienced the gift of new life as one of the disciples in our church’s production of the musical, Godspell. I was overwhelmed by God’s forgiveness.  This was new life!

God did not take Teddy’s life, but God did use his death to bring glory to God and to help others believe in Jesus.  I stand here as a witness to the power of new life – the new life I found in Teddy’s death – the new life I found in Jesus.  New life is found over and over again through death and loss and change.  This new life is so powerfully revealed through the death of Jesus.  God did not take Jesus’ life – we did.  But God did use his death to bring glory to God and to help others believe in Jesus Christ.  Death is not the end – it is a new beginning.  As Jesus said to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”  Even though our physical bodies may die, in Jesus we will live.  Even though those we love may die, in Jesus we are all given the opportunity to be born to new life.

Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, gathered with his disciples in the upper room.  He knew he was going to die.  He knew one of his own disciples would betray him.  On that night, Jesus took the ancient tradition of Passover and gave it new meaning.  Passover – that annual celebration of the time in Egypt when the people of Israel slaughtered a lamb and placed the blood of the lamb on the lintel and the doorposts in the promise that God would pass over their homes, sparing their first born children and animals.  Passover – a day of remembrance of the time when the people of Israel were given new life, fleeing the captivity of Egypt and following Moses to the Promised Land.  Passover – an ordinance celebrated by the people of Israel in praise of the God of Israel who claimed them as His own.

Jesus took this ancient tradition and gave it new meaning.  As he took the bread, gave thanks to God, and broke the bread, he said, “This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”  The bread, which had been broken in remembrance of being freed from captivity in Egypt, became the gift of being freed from death through Jesus Christ.  As we eat this bread, we remember Christ’s death and resurrection.  As we eat this bread, we proclaim that death has no dominion over us.  Jesus, who died on a cross, was raised on the third day and lives in us.  As we take this living bread into our bodies we are given new life. 

In the same way, Jesus took the cup, blessed it and gave it to his disciples saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this in remembrance of me.”  This wine, which had been a symbol of God’s goodness and mercy, a cup of thanksgiving to the Lord who redeemed the people from slavery, became the gift of freedom and new life found in Jesus.  When we share the cup, we affirm that God has given us life and given it to us abundantly.  We no longer need to slaughter a lamb in order to save ourselves, for Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  Through his blood we are given eternal life – and not just us, but the whole world is given this gift.

Maybe we actually are hungry for new life.  We do want to be freed from slavery to sin and death – that is certain.  We do long for abundant life – of that there is no doubt.  While we fear change, we also affirm that death has no dominion over us.  In the bread and wine – the body and blood of Christ – we are given new life.  We are forgiven for our past trespasses.  We are strengthened in mind and spirit.  We are given food for the journey ahead – a journey Christ walks with us every step of the way.  And in new life we glimpse the kingdom of God breaking in, pointing to the day when God will wipe every tear from our eyes.  Death will be no more; and mourning and crying and pain will be no more.  At this table we get a glimpse of the truth: “See, I am making all things new” (Rev 21:5).

Hungry for Jesus: The Duty of Constant Communion

Third Sermon of Four on Holy Communion
Fourth Sunday of Lent / April 3, 2011
1 Corinthians 11:17-34  John 4:5-42


This past weekend the youth who went up to Lake Junaluska learned that Francis Asbury and Thomas Coke were the founding bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States.  At the Christmas Conference of 1784, these two men, along with many others, gathered together to found the Methodist church in America.  John and Charles Wesley had prepared these men to start this church, giving them an order of worship, articles of faith, stacks of hymns, and a collection of John Wesley’s sermons.  Many of the first preachers of the Methodist Episcopal Church were not ordained; they were lay leaders and passionate Christians, called to share the good news of Jesus Christ, but lacking specific training as preachers.  Wesley encouraged these preachers to preach his sermons; this way the preachers would be preaching sound doctrine as they brought the gospel to people hungry for Jesus.



One of these sermons is titled, “The Duty of Constant Communion.”  Wesley wrote this sermon in 1732, when he was a very young preacher.  While Wesley revised the sermon later in life, it was and remains Wesley’s fullest statement of his doctrine of Holy Communion.  In many ways this sacrament shaped all of Wesley’s theology – especially his understanding of God’s abundant grace.  During his lifetime, Wesley participated in the Lord’s Supper an average of 4 times per week. Constant communion.  Today I want to share part of Wesley’s sermon on Constant Communion as we explore the deep hunger of our souls – our longing for Jesus himself.



Wesley started: It is the duty of every Christian to receive the Lord’s Supper as often as he can... Not just once a month, or once a quarter, but as often as possible.  The benefits of doing so are so great... namely, the forgiveness of past sins and the present strengthening and refreshing of our souls.  In this world we are never free from temptations.  Whatever way of life we are in, whatever our condition be, whether we are sick or well, in trouble or at ease, the enemies of our souls are watching to lead us into sin.  And too often they prevail over us. 



Wesley understood that we face temptations every day.  He reminds us that Satan is looking for opportunities to turn us away from God.  He continues: The grace of God given [at Christ’s table] confirms to us the pardon of our sins by enabling us to leave them.  As our bodies are strengthened by the bread and wine, so are our souls by these tokens of the body and blood of Christ. This is the food of our souls; this gives strength to perform our duty, and leads us on to perfection.  If therefore... we desire the pardon of our sins, if we wish for strength to believe, to love and obey God, then we should neglect no opportunity of receiving the Lord’s Supper.



It is worth pausing here to reflect on our opportunities of receiving the Lord’s Supper.  The early Methodist church was a largely lay led community.  There were not very many ordained elders.  These elders were circuit riders, riding their horses from town to town, preaching the gospel and administering the sacraments wherever they went.  This meant a congregation only had the opportunity to commune when clergy came through town, which was often less than once a month.  Thus, because of a shortage of clergy, communion became far from constant.  And less than constant communion thus became a habit, even as more and more churches became station churches with full time clergy.  In the past few decades, following the massive church reform that began with Vatican II in the late 1960’s, more and more denominations have returned to constant communion, celebrating the Lord’s Supper every Lord’s Day.  And when our new hymnal came out in 1989, the recommended order of worship included weekly communion.  Changing deeply ingrained habits takes time and prayer and intentionality; but God is calling us to constant communion.



Wesley continues: Let everyone... who has either any desire to please God, or any love of his own soul, obey God and consult the good of his own soul by communicating every time he can; [this is] like the first Christians, with whom the Christian sacrifice was a constant part of the Lord’s day’s service. Our passage from first Corinthians speaks of the institution of the Lord’s Supper and... we learn that the design of this sacrament is the continual remembrance of the death of Christ, by eating bread and drinking wine, which are the outward signs of the inward grace, the body and blood of Christ. 



I stand amazed at this gift.  Think about what Jesus did for us!  “On the night when he was betrayed he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me’” (1 Cor 11:23-24).  On the night he was betrayed, with is betrayer present, Jesus gave us the gift of his very self.



Wesley continues: It is highly expedient for those who purpose to receive this [gift], whenever their time will permit, to prepare themselves for this solemn ordinance by self-examination and prayer.  But this is not absolutely necessary.  And when we do not have time to prepare, we should see that we have the habitual preparation which is absolutely necessary... a full purpose of heart to keep all the commandments of God and a sincere desire to receive all his promises.



Perhaps you are very good at self-examination and prayer, able to come to the Table ready to receive this gift.  But I hope you heard Wesley – this is not absolutely necessary.  Our invitation to the Table states all that is needed: “Christ our Lord invites to this Table all who love him, all who earnestly repent of their sin and seek to live in peace with God and one another.  Therefore, let us confess our sins before God and one another.”  When we gather at the Table the first thing we do is confess our sins.  And I’m sure you’ve noticed that each week we confess our sins as part of a habitual preparation – a constant awareness that we are always in need of God’s grace; our constant hunger to be more like Jesus.



Wesley goes on: Consider the Lord’s Supper... as a mercy from God to [us].  As God, whose mercy is over all his works... knew there was but one way for [us] to be happy like himself, namely, by being like [God] in holiness; [and] as [God] knew we could do nothing toward this [by] ourselves, he has given us certain means of obtaining help.  One of these is the Lord’s Supper, which of his infinite mercy, [God] has given for this very end: that through this means we may be assisted to attain those blessings which he has prepared for us; that we may obtain holiness on earth and everlasting glory in heaven.  I ask then, why do you not accept his mercy as often as ever you can?



Wesley then speaks to two objections to constant communion.  First, many feel unworthy to receive it.  Wesley states: You are unworthy to receive any mercy from God.  But is that a reason for refusing all mercy?  God offers you a pardon for all your sins.  You are unworthy of it, ‘tis sure, and [God] knows it: but since [God] is pleased to offer it nevertheless, will you not accept it?  Wesley is pointing to the verse in 1st Corinthians that says: “All who eat and drink in an unworthy manner, eat and drink judgment against themselves” (v. 29).  Certainly eating and drinking unworthily is meant taking the holy sacrament in such a rude and disorderly way that one is hungry and another drunken.  What is that to you?  Is there any danger of your doing so?  ...Therefore, whatever the punishment is of doing [this] unworthily, it does not concern you.  Do I hear a sigh of relief?



The second objection is that constant communion abates our reverence for the sacrament. In other words, constant communion diminishes our respect and appreciation for the Lord’s Supper.  Wesley’s passion for the Lord’s Supper comes through as he goes on: Suppose it did?  What then!  Will you thence conclude that you are not to receive constantly?  This does not follow... Has God ever told you that when the obeying of his command abates your reverence to it then you should disobey it? ... For example, has God ever told you that if honoring your father and your mother makes you love them less then you should disobey this command?  No!  Reverence for the sacrament may be of two sorts: either such as is owing purely to the newness of the thing, such as [people] naturally have for anything they are not used to; or such as is owing to our faith, or to the love and fear of God.  The first sort of reverence is not properly a religious reverence and will naturally lessen with repetition; the second is a true religious reverence, and constant communion will confirm and increase it.



The theme for today is “Hungry for Jesus.”  We are all hungry for Jesus, whether we realize it or not.  Both those of us in the church and those on the outside.  Our music today speaks of this hunger.  Our open hands reveal our hunger.  Like the Samaritan woman who met Jesus at the well, we don’t always recognize the amazing gift Jesus offers us.  Jesus offered the woman living water springing up to eternal life.  Jesus offers us this and so much more – the forgiveness of sin, food for our souls, comfort and strength for our bodies, life everlasting.  All found in this mystery – this amazing gift of bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ.  And so we gather at this Table, hungry for Jesus and ready to receive him.  We gather with open hands and contrite hearts, needing to be filled again and again.  Friends, come, taste and see that the Lord is indeed a God of mercy who loves us – each one of us – unconditionally and longs for us to grow in holiness, becoming more like Jesus every day.




Hungry for the Holy Spirit


 Second Sermon of Four on Holy Communion
Second Sunday in Lent / March 20, 2011
John 3:1-17

"Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.
Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.
Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me."

Who is this Spirit we sing about?  Do we really believe this Spirit has the power to melt us and mold us?  Are we open to letting the Spirit transform our lives? Or do we approach the Holy Spirit with caution and even skepticism?  Do we see this third person of the Trinity as filled with mystery?  Like Nicodemus, are we well schooled in the matters of God, and yet we do not understand these things? 

The Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, is certainly the least understood aspect of God.  We recognize God as a loving Father, Creator of heaven and earth.  We see Jesus, the Son, who was born in a manger, healed the sick, ate with strangers, told lots of stories, and gave his very life for us.  But the Holy Spirit is hard to capture.  Both the Hebrew word for spirit, ruah, and the Greek word, pneuma, point to the elusiveness of the Spirit; both can also be translated as spirit or wind.  “The [pneuma] 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 [pneuma]” (John 3:8). 

Wind. Spirit.  In the beginning when the earth was a formless void, a wind from God swept over the face of the waters (Gen 1:2).  The Spirit was there, in the beginning, already touching the face of the waters.  And then God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life (Gen 2:7).  The Spirit gave life to Adam – the Spirit gives life to each one of us.  Without the Spirit we are dust.  The Psalmist understands the power of the Holy Spirit to give life: “Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your Holy Spirit from me.  Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit” (Ps 51:11-12).  Later the Psalmist cries, “Where can I go from your spirit?” He continues, “If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there” (Ps 139:7-8).  The Holy Spirit is present throughout time and across space.

And yet sometimes the Spirit is profoundly present in one place.  On the day of Pentecost, fifty days after the resurrection of Jesus, when all the disciples had gathered together in one place, “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.  Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them... [and] they were filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:2-4).  In that moment, the church of Jesus Christ was born.  Jesus had promised he would send the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who would teach the disciples everything and remind them of everything Jesus had said to them (John 14:26).  Sometimes the book of Acts, which is actually called the Acts of the Apostles, is nick named the Acts of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit was all over the young church.  And then, in the book of Revelation, the Spirit and the [church] invite everyone who is thirsty to come and take the water of life as a gift (Rev 22:17).  The Spirit invites us, the Spirit gives life; the Spirit gives wisdom, the Spirit unites us, and the Spirit guides us in the ways of all truth.  Like Nicodemus, we are hungry for this truth – for this Spirit.  And yet, many of us do not understand these things.

We do not understand how the Spirit works – it truly blows where it wills.  Why is it that Christianity is spreading like wildfire in Africa and South America and places like China, and yet more and more churches in Europe and North America are closing their doors?  There are almost a half a billion Christians in Africa alone – more than twice the number in the United States – and this gap is growing larger every day.  And here in the United States, why is it that so many people who once called themselves Christian are more likely to describe themselves as spiritual today? 

In think the answer lies in our deep hunger – people around the world are hungry for the Holy Spirit.  People are hungry for the life – and the new life – the Spirit gives.  People are hungry for the guidance of the Spirit.  People are hungry for the truth the Spirit embodies.  But many of us are like Nicodemus.  We aren’t quite ready to be born anew; we want signs – evidence – before we are willing to embrace the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Notice that Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night.  He is a Pharisee – one of the leaders of the Jews.  He is part of the leadership that will eventually arrest and condemn Jesus.  And yet he recognizes that Jesus has come from God.  Nicodemus knows the signs that Jesus does cannot be done apart from the very presence of God.  He comes by night to talk with Jesus so that he will not be seen by others.  He is curious, eager to know more about Jesus.  And yet, he does not understand Jesus’ teaching.  “How can these things be?”  Nicodemus could have been a disciple – but he wanted evidence – he needed understanding.  Nicodemus was hungry for the Holy Spirit, but afraid to take a bite; Jesus was asking for a leap of faith, and Nicodemus wasn’t ready.

“The wind blows where it chooses, and [we] hear the sound of it, but [we] do not know where it comes from or where it goes.”  I think that this is because we are often too self-sufficient to pay much attention to the wind.  Perhaps, like Nicodemus, we are comfortable where we are; we like choosing the direction our life goes; perhaps we don’t even want to go in the direction the wind leads us.  I imagine us being like motorboats or speedboats.  We get out on the water and go wherever we choose, more or less ignoring the wind.  We don’t know where the wind comes from or where it goes. 

Jesus is inviting us to listen to the wind – to pay attention to where it comes from and where it goes.  Jesus is inviting us to be more like sail boats.  A sail boat may still choose the direction it wants to go, but it uses the wind to get there.  It is easiest to travel with the wind – the sails are then filled with wind, propelling the boat forward.  Going against the wind is possible, but requires a lot of work.  Sailors have to be much more in touch with their environments than motor boaters, paying attention to the signs and, whenever possible, choosing paths that take full advantage of the winds.

How do we learn to put our motors away and put our sails up?  How do we begin to let go of our desire to go our own direction and instead follow the leading of the Holy Spirit?  How are we born anew?  The answer is so simple we often miss it: Worship God.  Through our regular patterns of prayer and praise, through our confession and thanksgiving, and through hearing God’s word read and proclaimed we submit our wills to God’s will.  We learn to pay attention to the Spirit.  But sometimes these patterns are not enough.  Like Nicodemus, we want understanding – we want a clear sign from heaven. 

That clear sign was given to us through Jesus: God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.  That clear sign was given to us when Jesus was lifted up on the cross so that the world might be saved.  And that clear sign is given to us each time we gather at this Table, sharing the bread and the wine. 

I love praying the Great Thanksgiving before Communion.  Last year I was at a youth gathering with a couple youth from my last church.  The gathering concluded with worship and celebrating the Lord’s Supper.  As the presiding minister prayed aloud the words of the Great Thanksgiving, I realized my youth also spoke the words quietly.  Through our weekly celebration, this prayer had become as much a part of their vocabulary – of their prayer life – of their genetic makeup – as the Lord’s Prayer.  The words mattered to them.

The last part of the prayer, called the epiclesis, is where the Holy Spirit is invoked.  While we believe that it is through the entire prayer that the bread and wine become for us the body and blood of Jesus Christ, it is through the epiclesis that the consecration is completed.  These words invite us to both listen for the sound of the wind and feel its presence: “Pour out your Holy Spirit on us gathered here and on these gifts of bread and wine.”  These words help us to set our sails, so as to be guided by the Holy Spirit: “Let them be for us the body and blood of Christ, that we may be for the world the body of Christ redeemed by his blood.”  These words – this prayer – align us with God’s will – empowering us to follow the Holy Spirit:  “By your Spirit, make us one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world, until Christ comes in final victory and we feast at his heavenly banquet.”  This prayer makes that which is born of the flesh more than flesh alone.  By the power of the Holy Spirit, the common is made holy.  Both the bread and the gathered community become the body of Christ.  And then, as we share the bread and drink the cup we embrace – yes, and even rejoice in – this holy mystery in which Christ has given himself to us. 

Many people experience the transformation of the Holy Spirit through a powerful conversion moment – a time of being born again and truly believing that Jesus Christ is Lord.  For others, this transformation happens slowly and incrementally, over a lifetime of faithful worship and service.  Each time we receive the bread of heaven we are born anew and able to see the kingdom of God more clearly.  Each time we sip the cup of salvation we are born of water and the Spirit – recreated in God’s image – and able to enter the kingdom of God.  The wind blows where it chooses, but through the body and blood of Jesus Christ we are able to encounter the power of that wind.  Through repetition, that power gradually melts us and molds us into the image of God.  Through the very presence of the Spirit of Christ we are filled – our deep hunger for the Spirit is satisfied – and we are open to being used by God for God’s purposes.  It is a mystery.  It is a gift.  It is a blessing.

Are you hungry for the Spirit, but looking for a sign? 
Then look no further than the bread and the wine. 
The Spirit is here, and longing for you. 
Embrace God’s presence and power, and be born anew.

Hungry for Bread

First Sermon of Four on Holy Communion
First Sunday in Lent / March 13, 2011
Exodus 16:1-12, Matthew 4:1-11


Holy Communion.  The Lord’s Supper. The Eucharist.  These are all different names for the sacrament in which Jesus gives himself to us.  We believe that our Lord is really present in the bread – the body of Christ broken for you.  We believe that the Son of God is really present in the cup of salvation – the blood of Christ shed for you.  We believe it, but we don’t always understand it.  There is no way we can fully understand it; we know it is a mystery.  And many of us know this mystery has the power to change us, because we have experienced Christ’s presence through the bread and the wine. 



But we are still left with questions:  Why do we celebrate this feast?  How often should we come to the table? Who is welcome at the Lord’s Supper?  Why do we use Hawaiian bread?  And why do we use Welch’s grape juice instead of wine?  Why is there a push in the broader church to share this meal more often?  Why do we pray the Great Thanksgiving each time we share this feast?  How does gathering at the table shape my discipleship?  And how does sharing this meal shape our mission and ministries?  These are Biblical questions, practical questions, and deeply theological questions.  Today we will begin exploring these questions and others.  Today we will begin a dialogue about the deep hunger of our souls.  I hope we will engage one another in this dialogue, as we seek to know Christ and make Christ known through the breaking of the bread.  I pray God will give us each a deep hunger for the bread of life.



I’ve chosen the theme of hunger for this sermon series for several reasons.  First, it is Lent and many of us have chosen some sort of a fast.  Yesterday was the day I was first tempted to break my fast – only 4 days in!  If you’ve given up chocolate or alcohol or coffee or television for Lent, you are probably becoming aware of your hunger – your desire – to have that item back.  It’s tough to give up something we love for forty days!  Second, and more importantly, most of us share a deep hunger in our souls – one we are not quite sure how to satisfy.  I think of those late nights when I stand in front of the refrigerator with the door open, hoping something will jump out at me saying “I’ll satisfy your hunger!”  I move on to the pantry and stare at its contents.  Of course, many of you have Girl Scout Cookies jumping out at you right now saying, “Eat me!”  But many times I realize as I stare at my shelves full of food that the deep craving is not for food – I’m not hungry, just empty.  



In our gospel lesson today, Jesus is being tempted by the devil.  He has spent forty days in the wilderness without food and is famished.  He really is physically hungry and the devil tempts him with bread.  But Jesus responds by quoting Deuteronomy: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”  We fast during Lent to be reminded of that truth.  And, even if we don’t fast, this is a season to get in touch with the deep hunger of our souls. 



What are you hungry for?  At our last food ministry meeting, Jim Cheek from Concord spoke about the children at B Everett Jordan elementary school who are receiving backpacks of food to take home for the weekend.  They no longer have to save part of their lunch from Thursday and Friday so they’ll have something to eat over the weekend.  They look forward to Fridays and receiving that backpack full of goodies that will sustain them until Monday.  These children are quite literally hungry for food, and through this backpack ministry Concord is providing for them.  We do not live by bread alone, but we do need bread to live.



At this same meeting, John Varden, the pastor at Center, shared a story about ZOE ministries.  His wife just got back from Africa where she encountered children who could barely lift their heads.  Beyond being hungry for food, they were starved for any type of attention and had practically given up on life.  John described how the workers rubbed the children’s necks and spoke gently to them.  And, in an amazing transformation, these children slowly came back to life.  A touch, a kind word, a smile – these simple actions can revive the soul in a way that bread cannot.  Yes, these children need bread to live, but they also need the bread of life – Jesus Christ.



In a month we’ll know who our ZOE work group will be.  We’ll have pictures and names of the orphans in Zimbabwe who we are supporting as they learn to grow their own food and learn about the love of Jesus Christ.  Over the summer we’ll be working on expanding Concord’s backpack ministry to all of our local elementary schools.  During the next year we hope to work toward opening a food pantry in Southern Alamance.  These are exciting ministries! 



As we work toward feeding others, it is also important that we make sure we are feeding ourselves.  We can offer bread to others because we have bread to eat.  But in order to serve others faithfully we also need to be aware of our own deep spiritual hunger.  How are we being spiritually fed?  We need every word that comes from the mouth of God – the abundance of God’s grace and mercy – to give us the strength to follow Jesus.  We need to know we are deeply loved by God so that we can love and sustain others.  If we rely on ourselves in our service to others, we will surely fail.



How are we being spiritually fed?  We feed upon God’s word through our devotional life – reading scripture and praying, alone or with our families.  We are fed God’s word in worship – we hear God’s word read and proclaimed as we gather each week.  Many of us also find we are spiritually fed through music – hymns and spirituals and praise songs lift us up.  Many are also spiritually fed through nature – blooming flowers and singing birds; beautiful sunsets and clear night skies.  Notice that these are all examples of the way we are spiritually fed through our senses of hearing and sight.  But the truth is, we also need to be spiritually fed through our other senses – touch and smell and taste.  Our humanity demands a full-body experience. 



The Son of God became flesh and lived among us so that he could experience the fullness of our humanity.  Jesus knows we need more than stories about the Son of God to sustain us; we need more than the presence of the Holy Spirit to give us life.  We need an encounter with the living God – in flesh and blood – to feed the deep hunger of our souls.  The sacrament of Holy Communion is such an encounter – through the bread and wine we are given this profound gift of God with us.  We get to hold and smell and taste and see the goodness of our Lord.  Our physical hunger and our spiritual hunger are brought together as we break the bread and drink the cup, the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.  And in this multi-sensory moment we experience both the fullness of our humanity and the abundance of God’s grace. 



As we prepare to experience this moment, we pray the Great Thanksgiving. This responsive prayer is truly a prayer of thanksgiving and consecration.  We begin, “The Lord be with you,” as both an invitation and an affirmation.  Thanks be to God that the Lord is with us!  We continue, “Lift up your hearts”; we lift them up to the Lord who knows our hearts and understands our deep hunger.  In gratitude for God’s amazing grace, we continue, “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God!”  It is right to give our thanks and praise for this astonishing gift of God with us which we are about to receive.



The first part of the Great Thanksgiving then tells of what God has done for us in the Old Testament.  We are reminded that God – the God who created us in God’s image – never gives up on us, even as we turn away over and over again.  God delivered the Israelites from captivity in Egypt, fed them manna in the wilderness, and brought them to a land flowing with milk and honey.  God spoke to the people through the prophets, calling them repeatedly to turn from their evil ways and return to the Lord.  God called the people back from Babylon and restored a covenant relationship with them.  In the same way, God continues to deliver us; God continues to call us to return to Him with all our hearts; God continues to feed us.  And through his Son Jesus Christ we continue to be invited back into a covenant relationship.  And so we sing “Holy, holy, holy Lord” affirming just how astonishing this gift of grace is.



And in this meal, we get a foretaste of God’s heavenly banquet when we will feast with all the saints.  Our foretaste – a small piece of bread and a sip of unfermented wine – point to a feast of plenty.  Our unfermented wine – in other words, grape juice – is a practice we began during Prohibition in the 1920’s, when the 18th amendment to the constitution prohibited the manufacture, sale, and transportation of alcohol.  We have kept this practice because this way alcoholics and children as well as those who chose to abstain from alcohol can fully participate in communion.  We can use either leavened or unleavened bread.  The unleavened bread reminds us of a people in a hurry to flee Egypt; the leavened bread points to the feast in God’s kingdom.  There are times, such as during Lent, when it is appropriate to use unleavened bread as we focus on where we’ve come from.  But most of the time we live in the already and not-yet of the Kingdom of God that was brought through Jesus Christ, and we look forward to the coming of the Kingdom in all its glory.  It is a good and joyful thing to use a rich, leavened bread such as Hawaiian bread.



At this feast we are reminded of where we have come from and where we are going.  But more importantly we are fed the body and blood of Jesus Christ.  Our deep spiritual hunger is satisfied in the only way it can be – by the very Word of God.  We are given bread for the journey, so that we can go out into the world to feed others bread.  And then, as we give of ourselves to others during the week, we find that we get hungry again.  We get discouraged and tired.  Our resources are depleted and we become empty.  Then with joy we return to worship God and be filled again. Thanks be to God for this holy mystery in which He has given himself for us – the body of Christ that feeds us so that we can be the body of Christ in the world, feeding the world.