Christ The King

A Special Place In Hell

I did it. But if I didn't do it, it wouldn't look like this.

At first glance this sounds like Coyote think. But then you realize it is O.J. inverted.

I know Coyote. Coyote is my friend. Sometimes. And O.J. is no Coyote.

Or J.F.K.

Getting It

Good morning. Ever since I was a small child, I have been interested in the mystery of how the world works. I remember watching the first space flights in the early 1960’s, and being amazed that people could leave the earth. When I was six years old I insisted that my parents take me to church, because I wanted to know what this God thing was all about. And to this day I read as much as I can about evolution, quantum physics, and the human brain. Life is a great mystery, and as much as possible, I want to get “it”, whatever that “it” is.

Now, as much as I desire to know how the world works, I have an almost equally great fear of not getting “it.” And it has become very apparent to me that whatever “it” is, some people just don’t get “it” at all. I want to tell you about two people who missed it completely. I pray that I will never miss it this badly.

My church history professor at Seminary, Doctor Bruce Shelley, traveled to New York City twenty years ago. He went into a small shop, and the walls and ceiling were covered with crucifixes. Dr. Shelley was a lifelong Baptist, and he was mesmerized by the beauty and craftsmanship of these beautiful crucifixes that were not a part of his religious tradition. He went up to the twenty-something young man at the counter, and said, “you know what, I really want to buy one of these crucifixes. The young man said, “cool, do you want one with or without the little man?” With or without the little man? He didn’t even know that “little man” on the crucifix was Jesus! He didn’t get it at all. He missed it completely. Scary.

My second example happened about fifteen years ago back east. A man was walking along a hill near a river, and he saw a pastor in the water baptizing a dozen or so men and women. The man was curious, so he went down to the river bank. When the pastor had baptized everyone, he warmly motioned for the man to come into the river. The pastor gently took the man’s hands, and then put him into the water and baptized him. When he brought him up, the pastor asked, “brother, did you find Jesus?” The man said, no. So the pastor put him into the water again, and when he brought him up he said “brother, did you find Jesus?” Again the man said, no. So the pastor plunged him into the water a third time, and held him down for about a minute. When he brought him up he said “brother, did you find Jesus!!?” Gasping for air, the man said, “are you sure this is where he fell in?” He didn’t get it at all. He totally missed it.

Now, as funny and alarming as these stories are, our readings this morning tell us the story of two men who, according to the people around them, missed it just as badly, if not worse, than the people I just mentioned. But we will see that though everyone said they just didn’t get it, Bartimaeus and Job actually got “it” more deeply than anyone could ever have imagined.

In the gospel of Mark Jesus is coming to Jericho, and whenever Jesus came to town, that was a big deal. Picture the crowd that followed Jesus. First there were the twelve apostles. Then came the disciples of Jesus, probably numbering forty or more. Several Pharisees always walked with Jesus to keep an eye on him. Then, in no way comparing Jesus to Jerry Garcia, dozens of groupies, or Jesus heads, followed Jesus wherever he went, to learn from his teachings and be part of the excitement. Then the crowds that simply appeared whenever Jesus approached often numbered in the thousands. So when a young child ran into town and yelled Jesus is coming!, that was a big deal.

So certainly as Jesus approached Jericho the city leaders polished all the doorknobs, swept the sidewalks, and did everything they could to make the city look good for Jesus and the crowds. And according to Mark everything seemed to go quite well until the very end. That is when Bartimaeus decided to make a fool of himself.

Bartimaeus was an embarrassment to Jericho. A blind beggar, certainly from a sinful family, Bartimaeus was just the kind of person who could make Jericho look bad. When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus was just down the street, he started to shout and make a scene. Great. Just what the respectable people of Jericho feared the most. So the good people of Jericho strongly encouraged Bartimaeus to keep quiet. I imagine they said something like this:

“Bartimaeus, you just don’t get it, do you? Why don’t you just shut up. Don’t you know a holy man is coming? Jesus is a prophet, a teacher, and some say he may even be the Messiah. You, on the other hand, are a blind and sinful beggar. Just go away. Don’t embarrass us. Crawl back into the hole you came out of. Bartimaeus, what we are saying is this: shut your miserable trap.”

And of course shameless Bartimaeus did just the opposite. He started spazing out and screaming all the more. Jesus walked by, and said to bring Bartimaeus over to him. I’m sure all the good people looked at the ground in embarrassment as “big man” Bartimaeus got his wish, shaming the city of Jericho.

Jesus said to Bartimaeus, “what do you want me to do?” Bartimaeus said, Rabbi, I’d like to see.” Jesus said, Go, your faith has healed you.” Wow. What a wonderful story.

Bartimaeus was in bad shape. He was an outcast, his spirit was surely deeply wounded, he was blind, and he had no hope. But he had faith in Jesus. He took a big risk asking Jesus to give him sight. But most important of all, Bartimaeus risked ridicule and embarrassment to get to Jesus. He would present his wounds to Jesus, no matter how embarrassing everyone else thought he was. That is true faith. Bartimaeus got it. He really got it.

The story of Bartimaeus is the story of every one of us. We are all blind. We are all outcasts. We are all wounded. Somehow, we have got to get past the good people of Jericho, and present our brokenness to Jesus. This is not an easy thing to do. Do you know why? Because we first encounter the good people of Jericho in our own hearts and minds.

Let me tell you what the good people of Jericho say to me. When I think about bringing my woundedness to Jesus, they often tell me something like this: “Jimbo, you just don’t get it, do you? Why don’t you keep your problems quiet. You’ve been to seminary. You teach Adult Education. You preach. Do you realize how embarrassed you would be if you brought your woundedness to Jesus? Just put your weaknesses back into the hole they crawled out of. Don’t make a fool out of yourself. Jim, what we are saying is this: just shut up.”

The good people of Jericho are powerful voices in my head, and in unique ways each of us have those same powerful voices in our heads, ridiculing us, and telling us to keep our problems hidden, and keep them away from Jesus. What we have to do, just like Bartimaeus did, is to push past the voices of embarrassment and ridicule in our minds, and honestly bring our woundedness to Jesus. Just like Bartimaeus, we have to be crazy, and foolish, and obnoxious, in order to get past the good people of Jericho and get to Jesus so we can be healed.

If we can get past the good people of Jericho in our minds, then we must be prepared for our second battle: getting past the good people of Jericho in those around us. That’s a tough one. To be honest, our Christianity often presents itself to the world more like the good people of Jericho than like the healing face of Jesus. Far too often throughout history Christians have ridiculed the weak and the broken, and told them to go back where they belong, instead of leading them to Jesus. So, unfortunately, if we are going to get to Jesus, we have to get past the good people of Jericho both in our minds, and in the church.

Many of us know the pain of having our weaknesses exposed, and then being rejected by our brothers and sisters. This is probably the deepest pain that a Christian can experience. If this has happened to us, I don’t know what else to do other than forgive, and then press on to be healed by Jesus. But there are several things we can do to make sure Christ The King continues to be a place where that kind of rejection never happens, and where the Bartimaeus in all of us can be held in love.

First, we all must do the hard soul work of identifying our weaknesses, and then allowing them to be healed by Jesus. We must all understand the process of how the Holy Spirit brings the embarrassing junk of our lives to our awareness, and then how Jesus heals us. When we understand this dynamic firsthand, then when it happens to one of our brothers and sisters, we won’t be uptight. We can hold them, and laugh with them as God deals with their sin, because God has done the exact same thing for us, in exactly the same way.

Second, we should expect embarrassing Bartemaeus behavior to regularly appear in our church. If we are all moving closer to the light of Christ, then more and more dirt is going to show up. Acting like Bartimaeus is the result of being close to Christ, not being distant from Him. When someone does something dumb, or gets into trouble, or confesses that they are struggling with a dark area of life, we should never hold our breath and wonder what we are going to do with them. We should instantly say, that is where God is moving in our midst, and it is with that person that we want to walk.

Third, when someone is wounded and struggling, we must go the extra mile in letting them know that we love them and will never abandon them. When someone is struggling they are acutely sensitive to the possibility that they will be rejected. We must go the extra mile in letting them know that this will never happen. We must assure them, above and beyond normal assurance, that we will not let them go.

The good people of Jericho thought that Bartimaeus just didn’t get it. But he got it more deeply than any of them could ever know. And we will get it too if we follow his example both in our own lives, and in the life of our church.

The second person in our readings today who seemingly just didn’t get it was Job. Job was almost the exact opposite of Bartimaeus. Job was rich, successful, healthy, he had a large family, and he lived a life where everything always seemed to go right. Job was a happy man.

But one day God was praising Job, and Satan said, “yeah, yeah, Job’s a good guy and all, but I bet if you took away all his happiness, he wouldn’t follow You anymore.” God said, go ahead, take his happiness away, see what happens. So Satan stripped Job of his wealth, success, health, family, and his happiness. Job was absolutely miserable. But in his misery, Job refused to believe that he had done anything wrong, or that God was evil.

Job’s “friends” confronted Job. They said, “Job, you just don’t get it, do you? Surely you committed some sin that got you into this mess. Just admit it. Admit that all human suffering is caused by our sins. Don’t be stubborn, Job. Either admit that misfortune is caused by our sin, or curse God, say he is an evil God, and die. What we are saying is this Job: admit you are wrong.”

The whole book of Job continues just like this. Job’s “friends” continue to tell him he just doesn’t get it, but Job in his integrity refuses to believe either that something he did made God punish him, or that God is an evil God. Job waits and waits for God to explain Himself, and finally, at the end of the book, God says okay, here is my answer to why you are suffering. And God’s answer goes something like this:

“Job, you just don’t get it, do you? Were you there when I created the universe? Were you there when I filled the oceans, or put the stars in their place? Were you there when I created all the animals?” And after two chapters of these ‘were you theres’, God’s point is, Job, are you God? Do you really think you can figure me out? Do you really think you can understand the meaning of life? Do you really think you can get it?

And Job, repenting in sackcloth and ashes, says “No, I don’t get it, and I can’t get it. I know that you can do all things, and that no plan of yours can be thwarted. I had heard of you for a long time. But now that I have seen you, I realize that I will never see.” And because Job realized he didn’t get it, his health, wealth and success were restored. Again, wow. What an amazing story. When Job realized he would never get it, then, he got it.

Just like we are all Bartimaeus, we are all also Job. We are all trying to figure out the mystery of life. And none of us get it. On one hand we are all trying to figure out the mystery of evil and suffering. It is tempting to think that when something bad happens to us, then God must be punishing us for some sin. I know sometimes when something bad happens to me, from some deep and ancient part of my soul comes the thought, is God mad at me? Did I do something wrong? But we know from our theology this isn’t true.

Evil and suffering can visit us for seemingly no reason at all. Sometimes tsunamis kill over a hundred thousand people for absolutely no reason that we can see. And even though some Christians are quick to point the finger, and tell us that we are suffering because of some sin, we have to wait with Job and admit that when it comes to evil and suffering, we just don’t get it.

On the other hand, like Job we are trying to figure out what kind of God we worship. If God is good, then why do his children suffer? If God is good, then why do good and innocent people die for no reason? If God is good, then why doesn’t He reveal Himself and make this world a better place? These are honest, authentic questions that we all must ask.

C.S. Lewis was devastated when his wife died of cancer. In his great suffering he said the problem for him was not that he would stop believing in God. The problem was that he would begin to believe such awful things about God. That was exactly what Job was wrestling with, and it is exactly what we wrestle with. In spite of everything, will we continue to believe that God is good? In spite of everything, will we continue to believe in God at all? Can we hold onto our faith when the whole world screams that we are all alone?

And will we, like Job, get to the place where we accept that we will never get it? Can we get to the place where we are left with nothing but mystery, and then say to ourselves, this mystery is holy, and I can rest in that. We know there is a God, we know He is good, and if that is all we know, then that is enough. Even not-knowing is to be in the holy presence of God. That was Job’s journey. And that is our journey.

One of the great mysteries of the Christian life is that all of us are walking the totally opposite journeys of Bartimaeus and Job at the same time. In one sense, like Bartimaeus, we all start out blind. We start with nothing, and when we come to Jesus we gain everything. We get to know Jesus more and more, and by giving our weaknesses and woundedness to Jesus we get to know ourselves more and more. And, as we all get closer to Jesus we get to know each other more and more. The Bible hints that this journey of knowing ourselves, each other, and Jesus, more and more and more, will go on throughout eternity.

But at the very same time, we are also following the journey of Job. We start with everything, and come to realize that we understand nothing. The closer we get to God, the less we know Him. The more mature we become, the more we realize how distant from God we really are. Just when we think we might be getting it, God reminds us that we don’t get it at all. This journey into greater and greater mystery is a holy journey, characterized by paradox, and what the Christian mystics call holy darkness, where God is closest when He seems most distant. The Bible hints that this journey into increasing darkness and mystery is a journey that will continue for all eternity. When it finally dawns on us that our Christian life is the life of both Bartimaeus and Job, then we will get it. Until God reminds us again that we really don’t get it at all.

This morning Grace Elizabeth Landvik and Joel Aiden Lewis are being baptized. I would like to conclude this sermon with a special prayer for them. Please join me in prayer: Dear Lord, As Grace and Joel become part of your body, the church, this morning, through the holy sacrament of baptism, I pray that as they walk through all the years you will give them, that they will deeply understand, and walk in, the journeys of Bartimaeus and Job. Lord, may they always know that the only place to go with their weaknesses and woundedness is to you, and I pray that throughout their earthly journeys you would surround them with Christian communities who will welcome all their embarrassments, and hold their woundedness in the sacred container of your love.

And Lord, I pray that as life confuses, frustrates, and threatens to defeat Grace and Joel, that they would remember and walk in the journey of Job, understanding that God is often found in darkness and mystery, and that when they seemingly find themselves far from You, that it will be then that You are really closest of all.

Finally Lord, I pray that through all their journeys, Grace and Joel would find You, the source of all life and love. May they search for You always, and when they have found You, may they never, ever, let you go.

In Jesus’ precious name we pray.

Amen

Coyote! Coyote! Howling Bright

Coyote! Coyote! Howling bright,
In the Deserts of The night,
What Immortal Hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful folly?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the laughter in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare frame thy mirth?

And what shoulder and what art
Could elongate the nostrils of thy snout?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand did tickle your feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain? (good question)
What the anvil? What blind grin?
Cannot its deadly errors grasp, or rhyme?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make Coyote?

Coyote! Coyote! howling bright
In the deserts of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Didst frame thy fearful wisdom?

Enough Is Enough

I've had it. The Philadelphia 76ers lose to a Spanish club team in basketball. This has gone far enough. The best we can do in the Olympics is bronze, and now this. I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore. What to do? Chop down those God-forsaken adjustable backboards.

Several years ago we bought an adjustable backboard. What do my boys and my nephew do? Lower it, of course, and dunk. Dunk, dunk, dunk. Dunk left, dunk right, and dunk backwards. Awesome. But can they hit a shot from three feet? No sir. Can they make a layup? No sir. We have lost an entire generation. When I grew up all we did was practice shooting. Hours and hours of shots from everywhere on the court. Now they dunk. It is so bad at my house that last Father's Day in contests of HORSE, Around The World, and every other imaginable game of basketball shooting, I beat my very athletic twenty-something sons. I not only beat them, I have never lost to them! If you ask my boys what a pick and roll is, they don't know. If you ask an NBA player, a pick and roll involves harvesting and preparing marijuana. ENOUGH!!!

We must take action. Gangs of men from my generation must cruise the streets, and when we see an adjustable backboard, we must chop it down. It will take years to re-educate our sons, and surely clueless parents will re-plant these hideous backborard contraptions when they are cut down. But we will press on. We will teach a new generation to play defense. We will show them how to pass the ball. We will introduce the concept of teamwork. And one day, when the game is restored, we will once again see Olympic gold medals around the necks of America's finest.

It is not just a dream. It can happen.

Hoop. There it is.

October Coyote

Are you Chilly
This Morning,
October Coyote?
As autumn Sun
Transforms The
Leaves to Gold, where do you go at night? How do you stay warm?

I know. You chase your tail. Over and over again until you fall asleep. A deep Coyote sleep.

I wish I could chase my tail.

Silent Coyote

What is
There to
Say, silent
Coyote?
Children
Suffer,
Parents
Weep,
And nobody
Knows
Why.

Why?

If we ask
The Riddle Mother, Coyote, what will She tell us?

Monster Slayer and Child Born of Water

In the beginning, there was Changing Woman and her sons, the Twins, Monster Slayer and Child Born of Water. When the boys were twelve years old, they asked, "Who is our father?" Changing Woman told them the Sun was their father, so the Twins undertook a difficult journey to reach him.

(From the Navaho myth "Where the Two Came To Their Father")

Autumn Coyote

Autumn Coyote,
Lover of Yellow
And gold and red.

And yet,
You are sad.
Why, dear Coyote?
What is it about
This season that
Makes you sad?

Is that a tear
In your eye?
Where will you
Go this winter?

Coyote Of The Corn

Mythic Coyote
Walks in worlds
Where sand is
Art, spirits
Still walk the
Earth, and
Corn is life.

Coyote HTML

Coyote never stops grinning
As he struggles to post
Pictures to his blog.

Dearest Coyote.
Never forget that
The joke is on you!

A Most Handsome Coyote

Handsome Coyote, Grinning at yourself in The mirror.
How foolish you are, Falling in love with Yourself.
What would Freud Say?

Wise Coyote

Coyote says,

O.J. did it, and then came to
Believe he didn't.

John Karr didn't do it,
And then came to believe
He did.

Very wise Coyote.

Here's Your Sign

Good morning. I have never been big on asking God for a sign. But one time when I was in college I did ask God for a sign, and what happened was very interesting.

I was twenty years old, a Christian, and I thought it was about time I had a girlfriend. I told God of my desire, but because I wasn’t sure if this was God’s will, I asked God to give me a sign, to tell me if I should look for, and expect, a girlfriend. Immediately after I asked God for a sign, I started finding pens.

You see, in college I was always losing pens. I would buy a bag of pens every month to replace those I had lost. I joked to myself that I lost pens like I lost girlfriends. Well, the day after I asked God for a sign about having a girlfriend, I started finding pens. Everywhere. I remember walking to class one day, and underneath a tree I found four pens. Within the course of a week I had found at least thirty pens. The explanation was clear: if I lost girlfriends like I lost pens, then if I started finding pens, God must be saying that I was going to find a girlfriend.

I was walking on air! Life couldn’t have been better. I was a Christian, God had heard my prayer, and He had given me the sign I asked for. But best of all, I was going to have a girlfriend!

So I waited on the Lord, and within two months do you know what happened to me? NOTHING. Absolutely NOTHING. Not only did I not get a girlfriend, I couldn’t even get a girl to look at me. Two months earlier life had been as good as it could be. Now I was so low I had to play racquetball off the curb. I was totally depressed. I felt like printing up a shirt that said “I asked God for a girlfriend, and all I got were these stupid pens!”

Our readings this morning talk about journeys and signs. The journey of life is often a very difficult journey. Along the way, we often ask God for help, for a sign, to help us know what to do. Sometimes God gives us big, spectacular signs, and those are wonderful. When the going of life gets tough, though, it is the small signs that get us through. Sometimes we get the girlfriend, and sometimes we get the pens. But in small and precious ways, we always get God.

The prophet Elijah was living in very difficult times. Ahab, the King, was a bad guy. First Kings says that Ahab did more evil in the sight of the Lord, and did more to provoke God to anger, than any king before him. Ahab married Jezebel, the daughter of a foreign king, and began to serve the false god Baal and worship him. Ahab and Jezebel killed the prophets of the Lord, and things were so bad that Elijah wondered if he were the only one in Israel who had not kissed Baal and worshipped him. There was a real possibility that the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob would not survive. These were desperate times.

And desperate times require desperate actions. Elijah confronted Ahab, and told him to assemble the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. The prophets of Baal and Elijah would each kill a bull and prepare it, and then call on their God. The God who answered with fire, to consume the sacrifice, Baal or Yahweh, that would be the true God. The prophets of Baal called on their God all day long, but no fire came down from heaven. So Elijah stood up and said, “O Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, let it be known today that you are God in Israel,....answer me, O Lord, so these people will know that you are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again.”

Then fire came down from heaven, and it burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and even the soil. When the people saw this, they cried, “The Lord, he is God! The Lord, he is God! Then Elijah ordered all the prophets of Baal to be killed. What a day! The Lord had given the people of Israel an incredible sign----and then some.

For Elijah, it couldn’t get any better than this. He asked for fire from heaven, and he got it. He killed all the false prophets. He very likely saved his nation. Surely, Elijah was at the absolute pinnacle of human experience.

But then the air went right out of the balloon. Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, upon hearing that all the prophets of Baal were dead, sent a message to Elijah saying, “By this time tomorrow, I am going to kill you.” Elijah was very afraid, so he found a tree, sat down underneath it, and asked God to let him die. For Elijah, it couldn’t get any worse than this.

What happened to Elijah? How could he go from total victory to absolute depression in one day? I think the reason is because drawing close to God reminds us of how different from God we really are. It would be very understandable for Elijah, having felt the awesome power of God thundering down from heaven, to think that maybe, just maybe, some of that power belonged to him. Maybe being that close to the immortal God could make Elijah immortal too. But then Jezebel reminds Elijah that no matter how close to God’s power and immortality he has been, he can still be killed just like everyone else. Oh yeah, forgot about that. Standing very near to God reminds us, as nothing else can, that we are not God.

So how does God help Elijah in his depression? Does he remind him that fire came down from heaven just yesterday? No. Does he give him a different spectacular sign to shake him up? No. When Elijah was depressed and wanted to die, God says “I know the journey is too much for you”, and God then gave him a small sign: sound sleep, and a good meal of bread and water. This was God’s most profound sign of all. God was telling Elijah, “When the going gets tough, I will always sustain you.”

Sometimes the ups and downs of life’s journey can be too much for us, just like they were for Elijah. Sometimes we experience success in our work, and it feels great. We feel close to God and blessed by God. Then our company is downsized, we lose our job, and we realize how depressingly unsuccessful, and mortal, we really are. Sometimes our families are doing well, and we feel blessed and close to God. Then our mate leaves us, or one of our kids gets into trouble, and we realize in our depression that marriage and family happiness is often very fragile and very temporary.

Sometimes we get into good physical shape, and in that endorphin rush think that maybe, just maybe, we will stay healthy for a long time. Then a spot on our x-ray depressingly reminds us that we may in for a very rough time. No matter how good it gets in this life, and no matter how close we get to God, reminders of our mortality are only a conversation or a phone call away.

There is no doubt that success at work, marital and family happiness, and good health are tremendous signs of God’s presence. We should ask God for these blessings, and anticipate them on our journey. When we’re hurting, though, and when the journey has beaten us up, the signs from God that will get us through are those small, gentle signs that remind us that God is with us, and He will never leave us.

When the journey is too much for us, God speaks in small ways through the loving voice of a friend, a coincidence that isn’t really a coincidence, a special scripture verse, or the still small voice in our souls that tells us that we are never alone. These small signs are not usually what we ask for, but they are often the most precious signs of all.

In John’s gospel this morning we see that even when Jesus was worn down by His journey, God gave Him a special, small sign. The crowds were following Jesus after the feeding of the five-thousand, and they asked Him, “our forefathers ate manna in the desert. What miraculous sign will you give that we may see it and believe in you?” Jesus must have been delighted to hear this question, because He was the sign. Jesus said, “I am the Bread of Life. Those who ate the manna died, but whoever eats my flesh will have eternal life.”

Jesus was telling them, I’m the man. I am the one who has known you and loved you. I created the universe, and the grain that feeds you. I provided manna in the desert. I brought fire down for Elijah, and gave him bread and water and sleep when he was tired. I led you out of Egypt, I gave you the Law, I chose King David, and I have preserved you as a nation to this day. I love you, and I always will. You ask me for a sign? Great. I am the sign you are looking for. I am the Bread of Life.

Jesus wasn’t giving them pens here. This sign was girlfriend to the max. Angelina Jolie all the way. And yet, somehow, the crowds missed it. They got the girlfriend, but they thought it was a bunch of pens. They grumbled, saying, how can He give us His flesh to eat? And many of His disciples turned back, and no longer followed Him. This was a disaster all the way around.

I believe the most poignant verse in the bible is when Jesus is on the cross, and he says “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That is heart-wrenching. I believe right here, when many of Jesus’ disciples turned away, is the second most poignant moment, because I think Jesus’ heart was crushed. Jesus reveals His love for His people, and they reject Him. His journey didn’t get any tougher than this.

Have you ever been in love, and sent your beloved secret gifts? Maybe flowers, or a sweet card from a secret admirer? This is what Jesus had been doing with His people throughout history. He had been loving them, protecting them, and preparing them. But they didn’t yet know it was Jesus who was their Beloved. Jesus sent them clues and gifts, and then, finally, they ask for a sign, and He says, here I am. It was me loving you all along.

What happened next is something that happened to me in college too. You finally reveal your secret love, and instantly a dagger goes through your heart, because the look in her eyes spells catastrophe. She is disappointed. She is disappointed it was you, and even worse, she is disappointed because she hoped it was someone else. That is a crushing blow. Jesus felt that kind of crushing rejection. He says I am the Bread of Life, I am the one who has loved you, and the crowd grumbles, and then slowly walks away. They wanted someone else.

So Jesus then turns to the twelve, and says, and I wouldn’t be surprised if He had tears in His eyes, “are you going to leave me to?” Peter says, Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the holy one of God.” It is really too bad that the crowds couldn’t have heard that, because that small statement is the greatest sign of all.

Peter is a great guy. When Jesus said He was the Bread of Life, I’m sure Peter had no idea what Jesus was talking about. Jesus as the Bread of Life went right over Peter’s head, just like most of what Jesus taught the disciples went right over their heads. And yet, they knew Jesus, they loved Him, and they would stick with Him no matter how much they didn’t understand. That is a small, but incredible sign of faith.

It would have been nice if the crowds could have said that to Jesus. That would have been a great sign. It would have been even better if God had roared from heaven, “This is my beloved Son, the Bread of Life.” That would have been a spectacular sign. But Peter’s confession of faith must have meant everything to Jesus. In the midst of profound rejection, Peter’s faith and love are small and precious signs that sustained Jesus on His journey.

On our journey through life we will experience rejection just like Jesus did. We will give everything we have, and some will be disappointed and walk away. Some people won’t like us. Some will even hate us. And, there will always be some we can’t please no matter what we do and no matter how hard we try. God won’t sustain us on our journey my making us popular. God will sustain us by providing a few special people who will cherish us and love us no matter what.

When our journey gets too tough for us, Paul tells us in Ephesians that there is a special sign that will get us through. That sign is us: we, the church, are the sign. Peter’s faithful commitment to follow Jesus, the Christ, no matter what, is the rock upon which the church is built. With Jesus as the chief cornerstone, the church is built of faithful believers, sealed with the Holy Spirit, and molded into the body of Christ. We are to sustain one another on our journeys. Each of us are the small signs that will bring one another Home.

Sounds good. And when we look at the sign of the church, all we see are girlfriends, and never pens, right? I wish. Unfortunately, the church is a sign that gives both girlfriends and pens. The church manifests both the best that heaven can offer, and often the most flawed that human beings can give. Sometimes the church will surprise us with how clearly God is reflected in our actions. And sometimes the church will break our hearts. We are a mixed up bunch of sinners and saints, girlfriends and pens, heaven and earth, hope and despair.

So what do we do? Paul exhorts us in Ephesians to put off falsehood and speak truthfully, don’t let the sun go down on our anger, do not grieve the Holy Spirit, and forgive one another, just as Christ forgave us. We are all on a journey together, and we must strive to reflect Christ, love one another, and be the small signs of God’s presence that sustain one another on our journey.

When the journey of a church and its people gets a little rough, like ours has been since Lou left, it is always tempting to look for big signs. We look forward to the search for, and the selection of, a new rector. And that is great. We continue to celebrate our 50th anniversary, which is wonderful. And we greatly anticipate revving up our giving, our worship, and our evangelism in the coming years. This is what we should be doing.

But, after we have a new rector, after we move past fifty years, and after all the new changes have been implemented, when church life gets routine again, then what? What small signs will sustain us on our journey then?

The answer is, we are the signs, and we will sustain each other, especially in the routine. Just as Jesus is the Bread of Life for us, so we are the Bread of Life for one another. All the time. Life is mostly routine, and occassionaly extraordinary and spectacular. The trick is to love and forgive and bear each other’s burdens during the long stretches of regular life.

Or, looking at it another way, there is no such thing as regular life. Every second that we live is extraordinary and spectacular. Loving one another, forgiving one another, and being long suffering with one another is the extraordinary way we are the Bread of Life for each other, all the time. This extraordinary and spectacular love is the sign that we are the church. This extraordinary and spectacular love is the sign that we are children of God.

The only question that remains is, when I asked God for a girlfriend, why did I get pens? I was on a difficult journey at the time. When a twenty year old guy doesn’t have a girlfriend, that is a tough journey in a special kind of way. I wanted a girlfriend so much that when pens started appearing everywhere, I jumped at believing this was a sign from God. It was a sign that God had a sense of humor. But it was not a sign that I was supposed to have a girlfriend.

But God did give me a sign I will never forget. A few months after it became apparent that I was not going to get a girlfriend, I remember sitting in my dorm room, and God spoke to me like he spoke to Elijah, in a still, small voice. He simply said, “Jim, you will be fine. I will take care of you. Trust me.” It was not spectacular. No shining light, no earthquake, no Catherine Zeta-Jones. But it was very real. And very powerful. I have never forgotten that sign. And God took very good care of me.

As the body of Christ, may we always remember that God speaks to us most often in the small and in the gentle. May God’s spectacularly transforming love infuse us at all times, and no matter what the world may bring, and no matter how confusing life might become, may we always hang on tight to Jesus, who shows us the way of eternal life. These are the signs that will get us through the journey. These are the signs we will never forget.

Amen

Coyote Dreaming

Midsummer night's Coyote,
Were you dreaming of me?

Five years ago you howled,
And I dreamed,
And you laughed.
Were you my friend?
I did not know.

Now I think,
Dearest Coyote,
That I was dreaming
Of you.
My midsummer
Night's dream was
All about me.
And you are me.

Don't growl at me
Like that.

If the earth dreams
The Dreamquest,
Then the earth dreams
You too.
We are both actors
In the dream
Of the earth.

Nevertheless,
Coyote,
I won't shake your
Hand.

What kind of dream
Would that be?

Coyote Two Face

Sometimes,
Dearest Coyote,
I don't know what to
Make of you.

Unexpectedly you bring
Delightful gifts.
Why?

And then you howl at
And mock all
Thoughts I have of
Meaning, and order,
And God.
Why do you do that?

If I could grab your
Tail I'd throw you in
The lake.

Would I sink,
Or swim?

Morning Coyotes

Running at dawn
I met two coyotes
On the path.

I said good morning
To both.
They just looked at me
Across their long snouts.

I kept running.
One coyote kept his
Eye on me.

Got him.

Not In Kansas Anymore

Good morning. Before I became an Episcopalian, one of the most interesting religious experiences I ever had was at a Greek Orthodox Pascha, or Easter, service. Worshipping Orthodox style was something I had never experienced before. You stand almost the whole time, three hours, and you chant all through the service. Incense fills the church, beautiful icons cover every wall, and you truly feel like you are in heaven. The Orthodox really know how to do Easter.

I was an evangelical at the time, and this was definitely not your three hymns and a sermon service. Part of me wanted to draw back from this kind of all-encompassing worship, but part of me wanted to let go, body and soul, and plunge into the heavenly rhythm. At one point in the liturgy, as I thought about letting myself go, for the first time in my life I was right on the verge of a full-blown mystical experience. I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I wasn’t a Baptist anymore.

I’ve had three thoughts as I look back on that experience. First, I wish I had let myself go. I was a bit afraid, and I wish I had trusted that if i let go God would catch me. Second, what really moved my soul was the Orthodox emphasis on the Trinity. In every possible way, through chant, liturgy, and icons and incense, the triune fullness of God was lifted up and exalted. I had never experienced the Trinity like this before.

Third, once I became an Episcopalian, I realized that everything I had experienced in the Orthodox church that morning I experience every single Sunday morning right here. In a different way, but in just as profound a way, we Episcopalians lift up and worship the Trinity in a deeply mystical way. Our tradition, our faith, and our liturgy are thoroughly, and wonderfully, Trinitarian.

Today is Trinity Sunday, and our readings this morning give us a glimpse into the great mystery of the Trinity. The early church was guided by three principles as they worked to understand and define the Trinity, and I want to use those same principles as we examine both the scriptures and the nature of our triune God. As we journey together this morning, we will discover, as I did, that when Christians gather together in the name of the Trinity, we are not in Kansas anymore.

Let me set the stage. Last week was Pentecost, and all kinds of people were having “I’m not in Kansas anymore” experiences and coming to know Jesus. This continued week after week, year after year, as the early church continued to grow. Over time, as Christians began to think about their faith, a need arose to define what these experiences were all about. Experiences without explanations can get out of control.

But there is a danger in explanations. Sometimes they detract from, and get in the way of, experiences. This was the tension the early church faced. In other words, how could the church become more definitional, while still remaining heavily experiential? We face the same issue today. As an evangelical, I could define and explain the Trinity as well as anyone, but I can honestly say I never experienced the Trinity in worship. Sometimes definitions seemingly bar the way to experience.


So, to insure that people could keep getting out of Kansas, and at the same time be able to talk about what was happening, the early church came up with three principles to walk this fine line between experience and definition.

The first principle that guided the early church in experiencing and defining the Trinity was this: “God is not a doctrine. God is a person. Sometimes, when we think and talk about the Trinity, it is easy to get lost in our thoughts. The early church was deeply concerned about this, so they insisted that no matter what our theological musings, we must never forget that God is not a doctrine. God is a person.

Our reading from Exodus perfectly illustrates this principle. Moses was in the desert, tending sheep, when he saw a bush that was burning, but never consumed. He knew something was up, and then God spoke to Moses from the bush, saying, “dude, take your shoes off, you’re standing on holy ground.” Moses was being addressed, not by a doctrine, but by the holy God of the universe.

God then says, “I am the God of your fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and I want you to return to Egypt and set my people free.” Moses looked around and said, “You talking to me?” God said, “yeah, I’m talking to you.” Uh oh. Moses was in big trouble. This holy God wanted Moses to step out in faith, and do something he could never do on his own without God’s help. That’s what happens when we encounter God. So Moses says, “okay, fine, but when I tell my people you sent me, what do I say? What is your name?”

And in one of the most famous lines in scripture, God answers, “tell them I am the philosophical first principle of all things. Tell them I am the existential ground of all being. Tell them I am the prime mover of all things that move. Tell them I am the first cause of all other causes and effects. Tell them I am the center of the web from which all things are connected.” Right Judy? Isn’t that what God said?

No. God doesn’t give Moses an explanation. God gives Moses an experience. He says to Moses, “tell them my name is I AM.” Wow. I imagine when God spoke His name the whole universe shook with God’s majesty and holiness. Moses must have been absolutely awestruck. God didn’t give Moses an explanation. God gave Moses Himself.

It is exactly the same with us. God doesn’t give us doctrines. He gives us Himself. When God gives us Himself, we are standing on holy ground. This is why the early church insisted that no matter what we are thinking about the Trinity, we must begin and end in personally encountering God’s holiness. We can talk all we want about explanations. But we must live experiencing God.

We are standing on holy ground right now. The minute we step in these doors God is giving Himself to us. In the music, the readings, the sermon, the creed, the peace, and especially in the Eucharist, God is with us. When we bow, when we cross ourselves, and when the bells ring, God is especially close to us. And we are never closer to God than when we receive His body and blood. Our whole church is full of burning bushes. We should all be on the verge of a mystical experience every time we gather.

Not only that, we should see God’s holiness in burning bushes everywhere we look. Nature is a burning bush proclaiming God’s holiness. The lost, the suffering, and the least of our brothers and sisters are all burning bushes full of God’s presence. LIke Moses, we cannot escape God’s holiness.

Even if we have the perfect understanding of the Trinity, if we are not living in the experiential knowledge of God’s holiness, then it just doesn’t matter. We’re stuck in Kansas. God is not a doctrine. God is a person. (By the way....)

The second principle that guided the early church as they sought to experience and understand the Trinity was this: liturgy precedes theology. (Repeat). This principle flows from the first principle, but at first glance it doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. Surely, our liturgy flows from our theology, right? Well, maybe not.

We tend to think the early church worked out the doctrine of the Trinity like this: Christians at that time looked at the old and new Testaments, and said, “well, we see a lot of references to the Holy Spirit. Jesus taught about the Holy Spirit, and several times Paul seems to imply that the Spirit is God. We know what happened at Pentecost, we know the Spirit was present at Christ’s baptism, and if we put everything we know together, then the most reasonable theological conclusion is that the Holy Spirit is God. Therefore, our liturgy and our worship, our creed and our hymns, our life and our prayers, should all reflect the fact that we believe that the Holy Spirit is God. Sounds good.
In fact, however, just the opposite happened. Here’s how it worked. The early church was saturated with the presence of God. The Holy Spirit was pulsating and throbbing through their worship and liturgy. People were being healed of diseases. Miraculous gifts were being manifested. Thousands and thousands of people were coming to know God. Lives of sin were being transformed into lives of holiness. The Holy Spirit was so intensely present to the early church that they knew, as Paul tells us in Romans, that God was not just Father, but also Abba, daddy. The Spirit testified powerfully that Christians were children of God, and not only children, but co-heirs with Christ of God’s eternal Kingdom.

The church’s incredible worshipful and liturgical experience of the Spirit gave birth to its theology. Liturgy and worship precede theology. The Spirit who was so powerfully moving through the church could only be God. So, a theology was worked out that enshrined the church’s experience of the Holy Spirit in doctrine. We call that doctrinal understanding the Nicene Creed.

The problem for us today is that we start with the theology, but sometimes we never get to the experience. We recite the Creed, but sometimes we never encounter the Spirit. We never get out of Kansas. Let me give you an example of how this works.

We go into a great restaurant, the waiter hands us a menu, and as we look over the menu our mouths start to water. Oh man! Every single selection looks fabulous. Our stomachs are getting fired up, and we can hardly wait to get started. So what do we do? Well, of course, we start eating the menu. We rip that baby to shreds, and as the cardboard and plastic slide down our throats, we think to ourselves that this is by far the best menu I have ever tasted.

The Creed is a menu of our deepest beliefs. It is an incredible menu, put together by some of the best minds that Christianity has ever produced. But it’s just a menu. It’s not the meal. If we don’t get past the menu to the meal, then we haven’t had dinner. If we don’t get past the Creed to experience the Living God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, then we don’t know the Trinity.

That’s why the early church insisted that liturgy and worship precede theology. The ultimate goal is not to understand the Trinity. The ultimate goal is to experience the Trinity. When someone asks us to explain the Trinity, the best thing we can tell them is, come and worship with me. Taste and see the goodness of the triune God. But if we do this, we better be sure our lives, and our worship, are saturated with the presence of God.

The final principle the early church used in walking the fine line between experiences and definitions concerning the Trinity is this: “What is not assumed cannot be redeemed.” I wish I could tell you that the early church’s working out the doctrine of the Trinity was a straight line of agreement, of Christians slowly coming to a consensus about what the best definition of the Trinity was, and of the profound experience of Trinity shaping in a seamless and holy way the production of the Nicene Creed. But I can’t. There were many rough and dark places along the way.

As the Creed was being written, Christian history gets especially tough. Everyone did not define the Trinity the same way. It came down to one letter, the letter “i”. Those who accepted the Creed as we now have it believed that Jesus was, in Latin, hom “o” ousian, or of the same nature as the Father. Those who rejected the Creed as we now have it believed that Jesus was hom “oi” ousian, (one letter “i” added), that Jesus was of a similar, but not the same nature, as the Father. And then the wars began. Making a long story short, when the Nicene definition of the Trinity eventually triumphed, those who adhered to the Nicene Creed instantly declared everyone else heretics, they threw them out of the church, and they asked the emperor to declare these heretics traitors to the Empire.

It isn’t easy to know what to make of all this. Each of us must come to our own conclusions about what the best way is to deal with differences of opinion in the church over critical theological issues. For now, let me give just a bit of insight into the mind of those Nicene Christians who believed that adding a single “i” to the Creed required such drastic actions. It boils down to the principle that what is not assumed cannot be redeemed.

The early church was deeply aware of humanity’s sinfulness and brokenness. They were also profoundly aware of God’s majesty and holiness. The question that Nicodemus was groping for in John’s gospel today was the same question the early Christians were trying to answer: how are we saved from our sinfulness and brokenness? How does God’s holiness come to our humanity and heal us?

Jesus gives the answer in John chapter three: we must be born again. Unless a person is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God. Unless God’s holiness transforms us in a second birth, through the Holy Spirit, then we are lost in our sinfulness and brokenness.

We are born again through the death and resurrection of Jesus, who is the bridge between God’s holiness and our sinfulness. In Jesus divinity takes on humanity, and so we are healed. Divinity assumes humanity, and so we are redeemed. This was the faith of the early church.

Now, what if Jesus is not God? How could humanity be redeemed if Jesus, the bridge between God and humanity, is not divine? How could humanity be assumed into divinity if Jesus is not God? How could we all be born again?

This was the key issue. The early church instinctively understood that our doctrine of the Trinity is intimately connected to our doctrine of salvation. If we define the Trinity in the wrong way, then we aren’t saved. If we get the Trinity wrong, then we’ll never leave Kansas, because there isn’t anywhere else to go. The church could compromise on some things, but they would not compromise on our salvation. A non-divine Jesus cannot assume our humanity. Thus the rallying cry, “what is not assumed (our humanity), cannot be redeemed.” If adding a single “i” to the creed would make Jesus like God, but not really God, then we are not born again, and Nicene Christians decided that keeping that “i” out of the Creed was worth fighting for, sometimes, literally, to the death.

It all boiled down to experience. If the early church knew anything, they knew what it meant to be born again. Under no circumstances would they let this absolutely sacred experience be defined away. We too must know experientially what it means to be born again. In our transformed, born again lives, people will see, and experience, the Trinity.

As I look back, my almost mystical, out of Kansas experience of the Trinity in the Orthodox church was actually my first step in becoming Episcopalian. I found everything about that experience, and more, right here.

The Nicene faith of the Episcopal church preserves for us, in a wonderfully delicate balance between experience and explanation, a holy Trinity, experienced in our worship and liturgy as the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, in whose triune-divine life our humanity is taken to heaven, and we are born again.

I can think of no better way to end this sermon than by singing one of the greatest hymns of the faith, Holy Holy Holy, hymn 332. Please join me as we worship experience the Trinity together.

Lift High The Cross

Good morning. When I was in my mid-twenties, I knew something about me wasn’t right. I was sad and depressed a lot of the time, and I was anxious and fearful about many things. I was intelligent and had a good education, but I felt lost, and I couldn’t decide what to do with my life. I had some good friendships, but my romantic relationships were, how should I say, less than satisfactory, characterized much more by need than by love. I started having panic attacks. I had absolutely no idea what was the matter with me. All I knew was that I was one messed up dude.

Then, one day I was in a book store, and I happened to pick up a book called “Co-Dependent No More.” As I began to browse this book a gigantic light turned on in my life. I had grown up with an alcoholic mother, and I knew this must have affected me somehow, but I had no idea how. As I began to read Co-Dependent No More, everything about my life began to make sense. The portrait the author painted about the psychological baggage that children of alcoholics carry described me perfectly. This book was a mirror that clearly showed me who I was. Now I knew why I was messed up. Now I knew why I had boundary issues, and why I was taking care of people all the time. Now I knew I wasn’t crazy. Now I knew there was hope. Picking up that book that day changed the course of my life.

During the season of Lent, the church provides us with many mirrors that show us who we really are. The ashes of Ash Wednesday are a mirror that show us that we are dust, and to dust we shall return. The stations of the cross are a mirror that show us that our earthly journey is often a journey of sorrows and death. The stripping of the altar on Holy Thursday is a mirror showing us that one day we too will be stripped of all that we are. When we look into the mirror of Lent, we see ourselves.

Our Lenten readings this morning tell us about a very special mirror in which we can clearly and honestly see our reflection. Like the book I picked up in the bookstore, looking into this mirror can change our lives.

In the gospel of John, Jesus says that when He is lifted up from the earth, He will draw all people to himself. In John chapter three, Jesus says something very similar. He says that just as Moses lifted up the snake in desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life. The story of Moses lifting up the snake in the desert gives us some powerful clues to how Jesus’ death will bring healing to the world.

In the book of Numbers, chapter twenty-one, God’s people are having a very rough time. They are wandering in the desert, and they are not happy campers. In verse five they spoke against God and Moses, saying, “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die in this desert? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!! In other words, “why aren’t we there yet!!”

Well, Yahweh didn’t like their attitude, so He sent venomous snakes among them. The snakes bit the people, and many of them died. Why did God do this? God was teaching His people that the face you present to the world is the face the world presents to you. In other words, the world mirrors our attitude.

We know what principle this is like. If we approach the world in a suspicious and paranoid way, then the world is always a conspiracy of people trying to get us. If we approach the world as victims, then the world always finds a way to victimize us. And if we approach the world like snakes, with biting anger and bitterness, then the world always finds a way to bite us right back. This is what was going on with God’s people in the desert. They were angry. They were bitter. They were venomous against God and Moses. So, in order to teach them that the face we present to the world is the face the world presents to us, God sent them poisonous snakes as a perfect mirror of their attitude.

And the people got it. Sort of. They knew things had gone very wrong, and that they had sinned against God, so they begged Moses to do something. The people realized they were wrong, but they didn’t really know why. So, in the midst of this horrible disaster in the desert, what does Moses do? He walks into the middle of the people, and he doesn’t say a word. All he does is hold up a pole with a bronze snake on it. And the people must have thought, great, here we are dying of snake bites, and all our fearless leader can think to do is hold up a stupid snake on a pole? But you know what? It worked! Everyone who looked on the snake was healed.

Why? Because they realized, for the first time, that the snake was them. The symbol of the snake was a perfect mirror of the bitter, venomous condition of their hearts. When finally they saw themselves clearly in the mirror of the bronze snake, they were healed.
As a psychotherapist, I absolutely love this story. It is so psychologically right on. The right symbol, the right mirror, at just the right time, can be incredibly healing in our lives. When I picked up Co-Dependent No More in the bookstore, I was in the same condition as the people of God in the desert. I didn’t know the true condition of my heart, and the world had been beating me up real good. But at just the right moment, when I was ready to see it, that book showed me who I was. And I began to be healed.

Now, Jesus says that just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so too must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that all who believe in Him might have eternal life. What does this mean? It means that Jesus is the perfect mirror, and when we look into God’s perfect mirror, we see ourselves, and we are healed. That’s big stuff. That’s the whole gospel right there.

What do we see when we look into the perfect mirror of Jesus? First, we see Jesus’ divinity. Teilhard de Chardin, the great Roman Catholic theologian, says that we need very much for Jesus to be fully human. But Teilhard says, even more, we need Jesus to be God. Humanity yearns for someone who transcends both humanity and mortality, someone we can hope in and worship, someone who is the fulfillment of our highest aspirations. Jesus perfectly reflects, and fulfills, our deepest yearnings, hopes, and dreams.

When we look into Jesus we see a perfection reflection of God. In Hebrews chapter one, verse three, the author says that Jesus is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being. The Greek word for exact representation means something that bears the exact imprint, or the exact stamp, of the original.

In the Roman world when a government official sent a document to another official, he placed his personal stamp on wax that sealed the document. The imprint in the wax bore the exact representation and the exact imprint of the original. Jesus is the exact imprint, the exact representation of the Father. In perfectly reflecting God’s being, Jesus, when He is lifted up, shows us what we have been longing for our whole lives. In clearly seeing both God, and ourselves, we are healed.

Next, when we see Jesus lifted up, we see His lifelong struggle against evil. Jesus said now is the time for the prince of this world, the devil, to be driven out. Jesus battled evil from the very beginning. Shortly after He was born Herod tried to kill Him. As Jesus began His ministry He was tempted by the devil in the desert. Several times the crowds and Pharisees tried to stone Him. One of His best friends, Peter, was used by the devil to try to undermine Jesus’ need to suffer and die. Another friend of Jesus, Judas, betrayed Him. All His friends deserted Him in the end.

Just like Jesus, all of us have struggled against evil. We have all felt that scary, cold something in ourselves, in certain situations, in particular people, and in the world, that can only be described as an evil force working to destroy us and the ones we love. We all know if we are not careful, that evil force uses our weaknesses to turn us away from God. In one way or another, we have all been wounded by the prince of darkness. We have all felt the devil knocking on our door.

I didn’t ask for my mom to be an alcoholic. She didn’t ask for her dad to be an alcoholic. We are both victims of the evil of addiction. No one here ever asked for the evil things that have happened to us. Being human means evil sometimes touches us.

When we see Jesus lifted up on the cross, in the supreme act of resisting evil, we see ourselves, the victims of an evil world where the devil still has power. Jesus on the cross is the perfect mirror, portraying our own personal struggles against the devil. In seeing our deepest struggles with evil in Jesus’ struggles, we are healed.

Next, when Jesus is lifted up, we see His innocence, the innocence of a lamb being led to the slaughter. Jesus lived only to serve others, and yet, the world too often turned against Him. His own brothers and sisters doubted that he was the Christ. The Pharisees, the guardians of Jewish orthodoxy, rejected His message and hounded Him every step of the way. His disciples never really caught on to what Jesus was saying. The crowds thought He should be a conquering King. In a show trial His own people handed Him over to the Romans to be executed. He was crucified among thieves. Jesus was innocent of ever harming anyone, and yet the world harmed Him whenever it could.

Jesus’ experience is our experience. Sometimes, no matter what we do, life just doesn’t work out. We can do everything right, and still lose. We can pour ourselves out for our families and friends, and nevertheless be utterly rejected. We can give ourselves unselfishly to our work, and then be fired for no reason at all. We can take wonderful care of ourselves physically, and still contract a terminal disease. We can love and nurture our church, and still have it wounded by something completely outside our control. We all know what its like to give life our very best shot, and end up totally defeated. We are all lambs being led to the slaughter.

Jesus knows what we are feeling. He lived a perfect life, and lost everything. When we see Jesus lifted up, in His innocence we see our own innocence in the face of a world that is often very cruel, and in seeing ourselves in Him, we are healed.

In addition to Jesus being an innocent lamb led to the slaughter, Jesus was also the sinless lamb of God. Jesus committed no sin, yet he took on the sins of the world. In the face of everything the world and the devil could throw at Him, He prayed that God would forgive because we know not what we do. As the prophet Isaiah said, “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”

Beholding the sinless life of Jesus reveals our own sin. We have not only been victims of evil; we have perpetrated evil. We have not only been defeated by a cruel world; we have defeated others by our cruelty. We have not only been tempted by sin; we have tempted others to participate in sin. We have not only been betrayed by our friends; we have betrayed our friendships and forsaken those we love. When Jesus is lifted up, His sinless life reveals how far short we all fall, and His life reveals how much we all need Jesus to be our Savior. When we see this, we are healed.

Finally, when Jesus is lifted up, we see Him participating in the great mystery of death. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The person who loves his life will lose it, while the person who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

The entire story of the universe is a story of life and death. Galaxies are formed, and galaxies die. Stars are born, stars die, and from the supernovae death of stars come new stars and planets. Seasons bring life, and seasons bring death. Life gives birth to new life. Death of life provides the food and sustenance for new life. Relationships are born, and relationships die. Our parents are born, they love us, and then they die. We will follow them to the grave. In creativity we build and give meaning to our lives. In death we will be remembered no more.

Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man, participates fully in this great mystery of death. The God who gives life to all things dies lifted up on a cross. The story of the universe becomes God’s own story. Death is trampled down and transformed by God. It is an incredible mystery.

As we experience death in our lives, Jesus asks to trust Him. He tells us to remember the lesson of the seed. Unless the seed falls to the ground and dies, it will not bear fruit. We need not fear death. There is life on the other side, and fruitfulness that we can’t even begin to imagine. When Jesus is lifted up on the cross, and we see him participating in and transforming the great mystery of death, we know that though we will die, we will never be abandoned, and in this certainty we are healed.

Just as the bronze serpent became a mirror that healed God’s children in the desert, so too gazing into the mirror of Jesus’ perfect life shows us who Jesus really is, and who we really are. In seeing this, we are be healed. But how? How does seeing ourselves in a mirror heal us?

The answer is that we become what we gaze at. If we stare at potato chip ads all day on T.V., then we become a couch potato. If we gaze deeply into the materialism of our culture, then we will judge our worth by how much money we make and how many toys we have. But if we focus our attention on who Jesus really is, and who we really are, then we become honest and authentic Christians. Honestly and authentically knowing who we are is healing. Honestly and authentically knowing who we are builds character.

In our reading this morning from Jeremiah God says that He will make a new covenant with His people, a new covenant where “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God and they will be my people.” God does not want His people to follow the law as an exterior code of conduct. He promises to write His law on our hearts, and make it a part of our very being. In other words, His law will become part of our character. His law will imprinted on our souls. When we focus our gaze on Christ, we become Christlike.



Remember the Greek word I mentioned earlier from Hebrews that said that Jesus was the exact representation of God? That Greek word is ‘karacter’, from which we get our English word character. To be the exact representation of something means you bear the character of something. You are authentic because you carry the character of the original.

We are authentic Christians because we carry the imprint and character of God in our hearts. We are children of God because His law, through the New Covenant, is not an exterior code but His character imprinted on our souls. Through beholding Jesus on the cross, we honestly and authentically know who we are, we know who Jesus is, and in this knowing God’s character is burned into our souls. We are authentic. We carry the character of the original. We are little Christs. We are children of God. We are healed.

When I picked up “Co-Dependent No More” in the bookstore, I saw myself for the first time. That was not the end of my healing, but the beginning. Because of that experience I immediately got into therapy, and I am still healing today. It hasn’t been easy. But it has been good. Very good. And I am very happy to report that my mom has been sober now for over twenty-five years. God is healing us both.

Lent is not an easy time. It is never easy to see ourselves honestly and authentically. The church gives us many mirrors during Lent in which we can see God, and ourselves. Through these holy reflections God is building his character in our souls. May we continue to gaze at Christ lifted up during the remainder of Lent, and may His imprint in our souls become a light to the world.

Watch Your Step

Good morning. Before I was married, my apartment mate was a man named Roger. Roger loved God deeply, attended seminary, and is now married and the father of six. Roger continues to walk with Jesus, and I am glad he is still my friend and brother in the Lord.

However, when I lived with Roger, I learned that he had some very, how shall I say, “curious” ideas about Christianity. For example, Roger believed that slavery was not a bad thing. The apostle Paul never condemned slavery, so neither should we. Roger believed, therefore, that the American Civil War was a tragically unnecessary conflict, because North and South sacrificed over five hundred thousand young men for something that God had no problem with. Curious.

Roger also believed women should never speak in church, and that women should never teach men or have authority over them. This was, in Roger’s opinion, the apostle Paul’s rule in the New Testament church, and if it was good enough for the New Testament, it is good enough for us. Again, curious.

In addition to these beliefs, Roger was convinced that those who believed slavery was wrong, and those who believed that women could speak in church and teach men, needed to repent. Roger didn’t seem so curious to me anymore. Now he was getting personal. Roger was not aggressive. He honestly thought I was wrong, and that if the church were to be an effective witness in the world, then people like me needed to get our act together, and return to the Bible. Needless to say, my discussions with Roger about these issues were “spirited”, and sometimes we “spirited” at the top of our lungs!

Our readings this morning deal with the same issues Roger and I discussed: repentance, slavery, how we relate to our culture, and how the people of God can be a light to the world. When dealing with repentance, the most important thing is, we have to watch our step.

Our gospel reading gives us the theme for all our readings, and this theme is something that Roger and I would both agree on. After John the Baptist was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee preaching the same message that John had preached: “The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe the good news.” Then Jesus saw Simon and Andrew, and he told them, “follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Repentance, and being fishers of men, go together. If we are going to attract others to Christ, then first, we must repent. We must return to God before we can lead others to God. On one hand, it is just that simple. If we are going to be a light to the world, then we must be sure our light is clean and shining. On the other hand, it is not quite so simple. What is sin? What precisely do we need to repent from? What does it mean to walk in the light? This is where Roger and I began to disagree.

Our scripture from Jeremiah gives us a good idea of what sin is. Israel had been unfaithful to God and needed to repent. Why? Jeremiah tells us the people of God had perverted their ways, and had forgotten the Lord their God, by what they did on the High Places. What were the High Places? The High Places were spiritual sanctuaries, on mountain and hilltops, where the nations surrounding Israel practiced their religion. The religion of the High Places was not the religion of Israel. The religion of the High Places was an abomination to God.

For example, sacred prostitution, both male and female, was practiced on the High Places. Here is a quotation that gives a good sense of what female sacred prostitution meant to the religions surrounding Israel: “Every woman, at least once in her life, received in the goddess’s name a man who was a stranger to her who himself represented an incarnate god. Sexual intercourse, through sympathetic magic, assured fertility of the land, of the flocks, and of the family. Here female equals blood, milk, body, fertility, and continuity of life. She is not yet an individual person, but a primordial natural force, awesome in its power to bring life, to convey the transcendent through sexual ecstacy. In this sense her body is not just a vehicle, but a presence, divine energy housed in the flesh. Through it she opens a man to the penetration of the divine and opens herself to the encompassing of it.”

Besides sacred prostitution, infants were sacrificed on the High Places. Infant sacrifice, again through sympathetic magic, offered innocence and potential to assure fertility of the land, the flocks, and the family. An infant was not yet an individual person, but a primordial force of nature whose sacrifice could alter the course of nature.

Clearly, the spirituality of the High Places was not the spirituality of Yahweh and the Bible. The key point is this: In Jewish spirituality, men, women, infants, and God, were fully persons. This was a tremendous step forward in religious thought. Men and women were not just primordial forces of nature, who could be used to manipulate nature. They were individuals. Persons. Infants were not just primordial forces of nature, who could be used to manipulate nature. They were individuals. Persons. Sexuality was not just a participation in the primordial forces of nature. Sexuality was a sacred relationship between individual persons. Most important of all, God was not just the greatest primordial force of nature. God was a person, His name was Yahweh, He could not be manipulated, and He was extremely ticked off that His people kept backsliding into High Place spirituality.

Why was Yahweh so angry? Because to treat men, women, infants, and God as less than individual persons was a tremendous step backwards for the Jewish people. At the time, they were the only people who understood that God was a person, and that because He was a person, all people were persons too. If they lost this, they lost everything. The Jewish people kept stepping backwards into High Places spirituality. God through His prophets called them to repent. They could not be a light to the Gentiles, and fishers of men, if they kept stepping backwards.

Though we have come a long way, we “modern” people still have our High Places. There are four areas where we can step backwards into High Places spirituality if we are not careful. First, sometimes it is tempting to reduce our spirituality to something less than personal. I know we all love Star Wars, but as Christians, we just don’t do the Force. Sorry Judy. The Force is great fun, interesting psychology, and great mythology, but its just not good theology. Our God is a person who is all good. He is not a force who can be used for good or evil. Careful we must be. Strong is the dark side. The Force, nature, psychology, science; any of these can become a less than personal substitute for God.

Second, we can seek guidance in life in ways that resemble High Places spirituality. Psychic readings, astrology, ouija boards, and other occultic practices promise to provide guidance for important decisions we make in life. The problem is, it is guidance without a Guide. In Christian spirituality, when it comes to guidance, we are, unfortunately, promised nothing. We get no looks up ahead, and we get few clues about what might be coming. All we are promised is that the Guide, Jesus, will walk with us no matter what comes. If we seek guidance without a personal Guide, then we are slipping into High Places spirituality.

Third, sometimes our “modern” sexuality resembles High Places spirituality. When a man looks at Internet pornography, is he not saying that that woman is a primordial force of nature and sexuality, and not a person? In many ways, the computer screen has become an entrance and initiation into High Place temples of sacred prostitution. Also, when sexual attraction overwhelms us to the point that we leave our marriages and families for someone else, haven’t we allowed the primordial forces of sexuality to overcome our personal commitments to other persons and to God? Isn’t this High Places spirituality?

Finally, when we reduce any group of people to a category only, then we are practicing High Places spirituality. I was guilty of this last summer. When gangs of thugs were looting New Orleans and shooting at medical helicopters after hurricane Katrina, I mentioned to Andrea that these people had gone sub-human, and should just be shot on sight. My feelings were understandable, but my thinking was wrong. No human being that God created ever goes into the category of sub-human. No matter how despicably they are acting. They are still persons. Whenever we categorize, we are in danger of making people less than persons. The poor and the homeless are persons, they are not a category. Even terrorists are persons. Terrorists are individual persons who do what they do for very specific political reasons. With all human beings, we must move beyond the categories, and see the real people.

Up to this point, Roger would agree that when we take a step backwards, we need to repent, or we will not be fishers of men. But when we move to our New Testament reading, Roger and I quickly go in opposite directions.

In Corinthians Paul gives one of his rules for the church, and that rule is that each person should remain in the situation they were in when God called them. Are you uncircumcised? Don’t get circumcised, don’t become Jewish. Are you a slave? Don’t seek to be free. Wherever you are in life, stay there. This is an interesting approach to church life. Why did Paul say this?

As Christianity was beginning to spread through the Roman Empire, apparently Christians were not remaining in the life situation in which they found themselves. Christianity was a mighty wind that was moving and energizing Christians, and this was causing problems. Paul’s great principle, found in Galatians 3:28, was that in Jesus Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female. All are one in Christ Jesus. Christians were taking Paul seriously. If there is neither Jew nor Greek, maybe I am free to stop being Jewish. If there is neither slave nor free, maybe I am free to leave my yoke of slavery. If there is neither male nor female, maybe I am free to do things that women could never do before. Clearly, the social implications of all Christians being one in Christ Jesus were explosive.

Paul had to make a decision. The revolutionary and socially explosive power of Christianity could easily shatter the young church and destroy the gospel. If Jewish Christians started renouncing their Jewish heritage, then Christianity could easily come to be seen as some bizarre anti-country movement. If non-Christians saw Christianity that way, then the gospel would be destroyed. If Christian slaves started walking away from their owners in the name of Christ, then Christianity could easily come to be seen as an anti-slavery revolt like the revolt of Spartacus. If non-Christians saw Christianity that way, then the gospel would be destroyed. If Christian women started speaking in church, and teaching and leading men, then Christianity could easily come to be seen, in the eyes of an extremely patriarchial culture, as some crazy Greek mystery religion, where women did all kinds of crazy things, and if non-Christians saw Christianity that way, then the gospel would be destroyed.

Paul decided that, for the sake of the gospel, Christians in the Roman Empire must limit their freedom in Christ. Everyone was to stay where they were. If Jewish, remain Jewish. If Greek, remain Greek. If a slave, remain a slave. If a woman, remain silent. If, in this culture, walking in all the freedom of Christ would destroy the gospel, then we won’t do it. To step forward in freedom when the culture isn’t ready, is wrong. If we step forward at this time, then we need to repent. If we step forward now, we will never be fishers of men.

For Jeremiah, if we step backwards away from a personal God of the universe, and if we step backwards by seeing men, women and infants as less than persons, then we must repent. For Paul, if we step forward, and our freedom destroys a person’s chance to know the personal God of the universe, then we must repent. For both Jeremiah and Paul, it is all about knowing God, being a light to the nations, and being fishers of men.

Roger, unfortunately, never bought any of this. The stuff about Jeremiah was okay, but he thought I was absolutely, totally wrong about Paul. In Roger’s view, which is the view of many, Paul was saying that what happened in this world was not important compared to what happened in heaven. Because we are all one in Christ Jesus, it really doesn’t matter if we are Jew or Greek. Because we are all one in Christ Jesus, it really doesn’t matter if some people are masters and some people are slaves.

Roger thought that because we are all one in Christ Jesus, it doesn’t matter if women can’t teach or have authority over men. A slave-owning culture is not important. A strongly patriarchal culture is not important. What is important is heaven. What is important is that we are all saved. Christians should stay in the situations they are in because these situations really don’t matter. Knowing God no matter your situation is what counts. If we try to change culture to more perfectly conform to Christian ideals, then we confuse heaven and earth, and from this confusion we must repent.

On this subject Roger and I were on totally opposite shores. In my view, what we believe about heaven has EVERYTHING to do with how we behave on earth. All situations matter. But, I had one more weapon in my arsenal, and with this weapon I could get personal too. When I did, oh boy did Roger ever get “spirited.” My secret weapon was that I told Roger, nicely but assertively, that he needed to repent. Two could play that game. When I told him to repent, watch out.

You see, I believe there is implicit in Paul’s teachings the idea that though there are times when we limit our freedoms for the sake of the gospel, there are other times when we demand our freedoms in Christ, also for the sake of the gospel.

In the Roman Empire, the full implications and freedoms of Galatians 3:28 could not be implemented without destroying the gospel. But cultures change. The hope and the promise of Galatians 3:28 percolated through Western culture, over many many centuries, until in the seventeen and eighteen hundreds people in England and America began to see that slavery just wasn’t a very good idea. And a little bit later people began to see that women should have the same rights and freedoms as men.

At this crucial point, when culture has caught up to Christianity, if the church doesn’t stand up and say now is the time, and if the church doesn’t demand that slavery end, and if the church doesn’t demand that women be fully equal with men, then we greatly damage the gospel. If the world has figured out that slavery is wrong, and Christians insist on defending it, then we undermine the gospel, and we must repent. If the world has figured out that women should be equal in every way to men, and Christians insist that women cannot do what men can do, then we undermine the gospel, and we must repent.

One of the most tragic ironies in church history is that when one of Christianity’s most sacred treasures, Paul’s idea that we are all one in Christ Jesus, finally begins to transform culture in a truly wonderful way, what is the one institution in society that is most resistant and most opposed to these changes? THE CHURCH!!!!! AAAAAHHHHH!!!!! What is up with that? What are we thinking?

If we are going to be a light to the nations, and fishers of men, then we must repent. If we step backwards away from a personal God, then we must repent. If we step forward in freedom when we shouldn’t, and keep others from seeing our personal God, then we must repent. And if we fail to step forward when we should, if we fail to insist on those things that God is bringing forth in the world to make all people more fully human, then we must repent. It’s just that simple.

As all of us at Christ The King strive to be faithful fishers of men, let us help each other to watch our steps. Like the people of Israel, we are surrounded by a foreign culture and foreign gods. It isn’t easy to see the ways we have stepped backwards, and it isn’t easy to know how and when we should step forward. May we help one another as we keep pressing on to know our personal God more deeply, and may we help one another as we strive to introduce our personal God to the world.

Amen

Sad Coyote

Dearest Coyote,
Is that a tear in your eye?
Did the moon make you sad?

Why did they all have to go?
I don't know.
You have to do what
you have to do,
They said.

Oh well.
Carry on.
Will we never see
That every group is me?

Sad Coyote.
Only your howl
Greets the stars tonight

Wireless Coyote

Behold the wireless Coyote,
Sitting in a coffee shop,
Connected to the internet,
Sipping his mocha,
Posting to his blog.

Digital Coyote.

Do you howl at the moon
In binary code?

Epiphany

Epiphany


Human beings are remarkable creatures. We seem to have an innate drive, deep in our souls, to leave our homes, and explore the world. If scientists are correct, early humans left Africa and spread over the whole earth. In these migrations humans spread through Asia and crossed the Bering Straight into North and South America, and, from Asia humans got into boats and traveled to Australia. It is an amazing story. Why did they go? What were they looking for?

In modern times, European explorers “discovered” the world. As the world was being discovered, scientists began exploring the mysteries of mathematics and science. Now telescopes and astronauts explore the heavens, while microscopes and particle colliders explore the world of the very small. Human beings are many things, but perhaps first and foremost, we are explorers.

My great grandfather was an explorer. In 1849, while he was living in Ohio, gold was discovered in California. My great grandfather and a group of friends talked it over, formed a team, and set off across the great plains to rush for gold. He wrote a diary about his adventures which was later published as a book. Why did he leave his job and family, and undertake a punishing seven month trip to Sutter’s Mill? Because he hoped that if he could get lucky, and get rich, his life would be different forever. He got reasonably lucky, though it took him three years. And his life was changed. Forever.

Today we celebrate the feast of Epiphany, and I have always thought of the Magi as explorers. We know almost nothing about them, but we can figure out some things, and I’ll bet they were like my great grandfather in many ways.

Like my ancestor, word came to them that something important, something precious, had happened in a far away land. They were probably astrologers, and one day they realized that all the stars had lined up, and a new king had been born. But the new king was far away. Like my great grandfather, the Magi had to decide if it was worth making a long trip. Were they up to it? Was the “pull” of finding the new king strong enough to overcome the “pull” of staying home? Sure, a long trip could be fun. But it could also be very dangerous. If they didn’t go would they regret it? If they did go, would they regret it? These are the questions that all explorers ask.

Like my ancestor, they decided to go, and in my mind it was, all things considered, a more difficult journey than the one my great-grandfather made. The biggest problems my ancestor faced were indians, disease, and snow. But, it only took seven months. My guess is that it took the Magi close to three years to get to Jerusalem. We know this because after the Magi met Herod, he ordered all boys three years and younger to be killed, so the Magi probably saw the star three years before they arrived. Three years on the road is a long, long time. I am sure many times they asked themselves, “why, again, are we doing this?” And, “what exactly are we looking for?”

It was a journey where they had no idea if they would find the “gold”. Every good astrologer, then and now, knows there is a great deal of interpretation involved in predictions. Before they left, I imagine they talked among themselves, saying things like, “are you sure that star being in that house means a king?” And every year that went by, that question got louder and louder. My great-grandfather knew for sure there was gold in California. He hoped he would find some. The Magi didn’t know for sure that there was a new king in Israel. And there must have been times when they had virtually no hope of finding him. But still, they pressed on.

And, they found the gold. They found the king. They probably stayed a few days, maybe a few weeks, and then they went home. It was worth it. They made the right decision. And I imagine when they were old, they believed, like my great grandfather did, that those years, and that journey, were the best times of their lives.

All of us are on a sacred journey. And I believe that all of us are explorers. Most people in this world simply live life. The good that comes their way, and the bad, are simply lived and experienced. But we, as Christians, are looking for more. We believe that the journeys we are on have meaning. We believe that in the journeys of life, both easy and difficult, Christ is conforming us into His image.

And so, in each journey, we explore. We search out God’s will. We try to figure out what we should do, and then we try to do it. We ask ourselves, “What is God doing,” and, “what are we supposed to be finding on this journey?” We believe with all all hearts that there is pure gold in everything we experience, and so, at all times, we are looking for that gold. We believe that both the destination, and the journey, are infinitely valuable. We already know it is worth it.

For that reason, I believe that many times the journey of a Christian is the hardest journey of all, because we seek meaning where the world screams at us that there is no meaning at all. Sometimes nothing is harder than to trust that God is there, when all the evidence seems to say there is no God. We do everything we can to go the distance, when going the distance is the hardest journey of all. We believe, and that is both the best thing, and the hardest thing, we will ever do.

That’s why none of us can journey alone. We need help in finding the gold. We need the help of our brothers and sisters. We can do it, we can get there, but only in community. We can go the distance, but only if our brothers and sisters help us and encourage us along the way. We will find the gold only as we deeply rely on the gold in the hearts of our fellow Christians.

Human beings are explorers. Christians are the greatest explorers of all. The Magi are an example for us of faith, commitment, perseverance, and ultimately, reward. As we journey into Christlikeness, within the community of the Body of Christ, may we too find the gold, and the King, in the year of our Lord two thousand and six.