Known by love

Fifth Sunday of Easter – Year C

April 28, 2013

John 13:31-35

When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.' I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

In the weeks since the tragic events in Boston, the news media and law enforcement have been seeking to understand what drove the two suspected bombers to act the way they did.  Who were these two young men?  It’s a difficult question to ask, and an even more difficult question to answer.  As each day goes by we get more information, that rather than clearing things ups seems to cloudy the waters.  A wife that had no idea what her husband was planning, former teammates who spoke of smiles and laughter.  Who were these two young men?

When we look at their pictures, it’s hard to imagine they did what they did.  They look like people we might know.  They look like friends we went to school with.  They look like the children of friends.  I’m sure that their friends from school are all in shock.  The memories they have don’t seem to match with the tragic events of that day in Boston.  Those memories, the identities of these two young people, regardless of what they were have been changed forever by their actions in Boston.  They will forever be known by and remembered for what they did, for the terrible lasting impact they had on so many lives.

All of us are known, and remember other people for specific reasons.  Sure, we remember people because of their faces, the way they look.  But, we also remember people for other reasons.  We remember them for their personality; or the things they said and did.  Sometimes those actions, those words define us for far longer than we would like.  I think of the person who made poor decisions while at college and ended up in prison because of drugs.  For the rest of their life they will be defined by that decision, by that label – former convict.  No matter the good they go on to do, they will also have that label follow them.  They will always have to put down on their employment applications the black mark from their past – and it will undoubtedly cause them to lose out on opportunities.

I think of the girl who grew up in the midst of a bad part of town, a neighborhood where gangs were often the only family a person had.  In an attempt to find belonging she was tattooed with images and words that marked her as part of that gang, as part of that family.  Yet, as the years past those same images that brought her feelings of belonging bring stares, they bring exclusion.  The neighborhood gangs may have been left behind long ago, yet she cannot remove the identity that she is marked with.  She cannot change the initial reaction people have when they meet her, when they see her tattoos.

I think of the young man who was the kicker on the football team.  It was the championship game.  As the clock was winding down, his team was making its final drive down the field.  With just seconds left, the quarterback spikes the ball at the 10 yard line and the field goal team trots out onto the field.  It’s a simple kick, “a gimme”.  As he lines up, as he’s done thousands of times before, he focuses on the point where the ball will be, he focuses on the uprights such a short distance in front of him.  He’s done it a thousand times.  The ball is set and kicked, rising up toward the goalposts as time runs out.  For the rest of his life he will be known as either hero or failure; the reason they won the championship game or the reason they lost.

Of course, we all know that who these people are is far more than just their history, their appearance, their success or failure.  They are far more than that.  The unfortunate reality, however, is that for many people who they are is a direct reflection of what they have done; regardless of how they might choose to be remembered.  Which begs the question, who are you?

Each of us would answer that question in different ways.  I think the first and easiest answer is our name, I am Erik Edvard Breddin.  Easy, that’s who I am.  But, what if we have to fill up 2 pages with the answer to that question?  How would we describe ourselves?  How do we see ourselves.  Would it be just our physical attributes, our failure and successes?  Where does our faith fit?  How far into our habits, our likes and dislikes, our personality and character would we go?  And then, there is always that very uncomfortable question: how does the perspective we have of ourselves differ from the way other people see us?

In our gospel lesson, Jesus is gathered with his disciples in the upper room on the night of his betrayal.  In John’s gospel, Jesus has already removed his cloak, wrapped a towel around his waist and washed his disciples’ feet.  Judas has already been identified, and departed from that place to do what he will be remembered for for all time.  Jesus is speaking with his disciples, sharing with them his final teachings, his final words of wisdom and guidance.  Jesus knew his time with them was rapidly coming to a close, so he gathers his disciples around him, seeking to ensure they had all they needed in order to continue.

James Summerville, writing in the Christian Century^[1], transforms Jesus’ words from our lesson into a setting that we can all understand and relate to; an image that I think will make it far more understandable to us: like a mother on her deathbed, Jesus turns to his disciples and says, "Little children, I am with you only a little longer."

You can almost imagine a mother bidding her children good-by. Gathered around her bed in a crumbling farmhouse, the younger ones, wide-eyed, clutch cornshuck dolls and wipe their noses on their sleeves. The older ones try to be brave, but are unable to keep an occasional tear from spilling and washing wet tracks down their dirty cheeks.

"Little children," says Jesus, "you will look for me, but where I am going you cannot come.

Even the youngest ones sense that something is dreadfully wrong. The tears begin to flow freely. The baby drops his rattle and begins to wail.

"I give you a new commandment," Jesus says, "that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."

With a brave smile and a trembling voice, the mother says: "I won’t be around to take care of you much longer. You will have to take care of each other. I want you to be good to each other, watch out for each other and most of all, love each other. Promise?"

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples," Jesus concludes, making his most important point yet, "if you have love for one another."

As disciples, as followers, as Christians you will be known by your actions, by your love.  And it’s not just a suggestion; Jesus tells the disciples, and John tells us, that loving one another is a commandment.  If we are to be known as disciples of Jesus, it will be because of our love.  Not our theology, not our symbols, not our churches, not our denominations, not our hymns, not our favorite bible verses, but our love.

In recent years Christianity, especially in what we refer to as the ‘west’, has been declining.  We have seen membership in denominations shrinking, we have all witnessed the size of congregations shrinking, have all seen churches closing.  It’s a sad thing.  It’s even sadder is the answer that is given when people are asked to define or describe Christians and Christianity.

About five years ago a video was posted on Youtube that shared the results of an informal survey of people on the streets of Chicago regarding their opinions on Jesus and Christianity.^[2]  When it came to Jesus, the overwhelming majority of opinions and comments were positive.  The Jesus people talked about was a Jesus that we would probably recognize – loving, savior, good-guy, compassion, diversity, kind.  But when it came to Christianity, things went a different direction - out of touch, psycho, uneducated, backward, overboard, hypocrites, extreme, conservative, fanatical, bible-thumpers, crazy, kind of freaky, frightening, rigid.

I know it’s informal, it wasn’t done by a national research firm, the number of people asked was small, and we have no idea how many comments were excluded by the people who put together and posted the video, but the message is still scary.  Jesus said, “everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  Many of us remember sitting around campfires, or in Sunday School or youth group singing, “and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”  Yet nowhere in the comments and opinions of Christians from the video is the word love even heard.

Before you get angry or upset, there is a lot of love going on in the church.  The amount of money and service given by people of faith to those in need is huge.  All of us have given of ourselves in many ways to others because of our faith.  We can lift up many people who live lives that are exemplary in their love for others.  As a congregation, in the last year we have contributed to the assistance of many services and organizations that reach out and help those in need.  Our funds have gone to help the hungry, the homeless, the victims of disaster, foreign missionaries, and local charities.  We have done all these things out of a desire to live out the commandment of Jesus to care for others, to love them.  Yet, the message that many people hear is not love.  We have been doing a good job of saying that God is love, that Jesus loved; but doing a rather poor job of showing that we too are defined by love.

We are defined by love; by the love we show and the love that was shown to us and all people in Jesus.  A love that brought God himself down to earth, to walk among us, to talk with us.  A love that experienced what it was to mourn, what it was to cry, what it was to shout with joy, what it was to laugh.  A love that would not be stopped by what society said was proper, by what religion said was right. A love that embraced and welcomed those that others would hold at a distance and shun.  A love that reached out to embrace the world from a rough wooden cross.   A love that was so strong, so powerful that even death itself could not contain it.  A love that continues to make itself felt and heard among us and all of God’s people.

We have been shown what love is in Christ.  We take our name as Christians from that example.  We are called to be more than just a name though.  We are called, we are defined, we are known by the words of our mouths, yet even more so the acts of our hands.  May we be so guided by the Holy Spirit that the love we have all come to know in Christ Jesus may fill us to overflowing, and that in overflowing we may extend that love to a world that is need of knowing not only God’s love, but the love of others.  Amen.

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[1] http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=636

[2] http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=YztvjePz0uk

Purity and Compassion

Fourth Sunday of Easter – Year C

April 21, 2013

Acts 9:36-43

Now in Joppa there was a disciple whose name was Tabitha, which in Greek is Dorcas. She was devoted to good works and acts of charity. At that time she became ill and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. Since Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, who heard that Peter was there, sent two men to him with the request, "Please come to us without delay." So Peter got up and went with them; and when he arrived, they took him to the room upstairs. All the widows stood beside him, weeping and showing tunics and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was with them. Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. He turned to the body and said, "Tabitha, get up." Then she opened her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sat up. He gave her his hand and helped her up. Then calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive. This became known throughout Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner.

A little over a week ago I had the opportunity to hear Dr. David Trobsich speak on the some of the most recent discoveries and scholarship relating to some of the earliest manuscripts and copies of the New Testament.  Hearing him speak about the things that are hidden within the texts that are there to be seen if you know what to look for, if you are willing to spend some time digging has caused me to dig a bit more than usual.  This week, as I approached the texts for today, I went digging.  And as is true in hunting for gold or treasure, if you are willing to dig a little, if you are willing to risk getting dirty there are rewards to be found.

When I first read this morning’s text from Acts, the name Joppa caused my mind to awaken.  Where else had I run into that name, that town?  Well, it’s in the story of Jonah.  Joppa was the town where Jonah hid out, avoiding God’s call, avoiding his call to go to Ninevah to preach to the Gentiles that were there.   The mention of Jonah got me thinking as well, Simon Peter was referred to as ‘the Son of Jonah’ in Matthew 16:17.  Here in this passage we have the intersection of Jonah, Simon, Gentiles and God’s sending of messengers.

The healing of Tabitha by Peter is a unique story in the New Testament, because of the use of a single word – disciple.  Tabitha is the only woman in scripture that is referred to as a disciple.  Yes, there were other women of great faith, but she is the only one who is referred to by the term used to refer to the other disciples.  There was something special about this woman, something that caused Luke to identify her with that special title.  This woman, who we know little about, was special.  She was renowned for her good works and acts of charity. 

When we think of disciples, we probably think about that group of men who surrounded Jesus and went with him wherever he went.  Or, we think about modern-day followers of Jesus who devote their lives to following the teachings of Jesus.  Here in the description of Tabitha we have a definition of a disciple as well: someone who was devoted to good works and acts of charity.  She was known for the clothing she had made because when Peter arrives, Tabitha’s friends show him the tunics and other clothing she had made.   The tense of the Greek for ‘showed’ that Luke uses when the widows showed the tunics and clothing Tabitha had made implies they were wearing the items they were showing him.  They were literally clothed in Tabitha’s goodness.

We don’t know much about Tabitha, but there are some things we can pretty much assume from what we do know.  Tabitha was most likely a Gentile, not a Jew.  She represented that new branch of faith called the way.  She may have been the first great person of faith who came from a non-Jewish background that Peter encountered.  After all, Peter was coming from Jerusalem the heart and center of the Jewish faith, and most of the early converts to Christianity converted from Judaism.  And we know that she was deeply loved; that her death was a difficult thing for the community in Joppa to deal with.

What did the community hope would happen when they called Peter?  Were they looking for healing, or just wanting him to know of the saint who had been amongst them?  It’s evident since they had not prepared her body for burial that they were looking for a miraculous healing.  And through Peter God acts and their deepest desires are fulfilled: Tabitha is brought back to life.  The message in this and all the healings of Acts is clear: the God that was active in Jesus’ life, ministry and healings is still active in the lives, ministry and healing acts of the disciples.  There in Joppa, God is active in the lives of those who confessed Jesus as Messiah.

That God was doing powerful things among and through Gentiles might have been a challenge for Peter to deal with.  If you remember, Paul fought more than a few battles with the church in Jerusalem about the nature of his work among the Gentiles.  One has to wonder how much of an impact meeting Tabitha had in Peter’s developing perspective on Gentiles and their relationship with the early church.  And if she didn’t play that much of a role, what about Simon the tanner, the man who is mentioned at the end of our text.

That Simon was a tanner is important information.  That Simon the tanner is mentioned three times in this and the next chapter of Acts is a clue that there is something important we are supposed to notice about Simon.  Simon is important in some way.  So important that if you visit Israel today you can visit the home of Simon the Tanner.  Why was Simon so important to Luke?

Simon was an outcast.  He lived on the margins of society, separate from the “respectable folk”.  He was a man who was dirty – in both a figurative and a literal sense.  As a tanner, he worked with dead animals; treating and preparing their hides and skin.  Can you imagine what the smell would have been like in a place without air conditioning, drains or sanitation.  Just think about how Simon must have smelled at the end of a work day, much less how he looked.  Very few people would have wanted to spend any time with him, people would have avoided him.  Yet, Simon seems to have found acceptance within the early church, an acceptance and welcome that society never gave him.

Beyond being a social outcast, Simon would have also been a religious outcast in Jewish society.  His job meant that it was virtually impossible for him to remain ritually pure by Jewish standards.  He was unclean.  His was also a story of how the early church struggled with how they were going to relate to the Jewish laws about ritual purity.

Jewish purity laws covered just about every aspect in life.  If you read through Leviticus you will find laws and regulations covering birth, death, sex, gender, economics, health, law, hygiene, marriage, farming, ethnicity, and yes even tattoos.  And yes, tattoos were bad and marked you as never able to be part of the temple community.  The purpose of the rules was to help the Jewish people reflect God’s call to, “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.” (Leviticus 20:26)  Only those who were deemed clean, were seen to be holy; and only those who were holy could approach God.

I’m not going to say that all the laws were bad, nor that they were all good.  We aren’t even sure to what degree the Jewish people followed every word of the Levitical codes.  But, we do know that Jesus and his disciples were often targeted because they didn’t adhere to every rule.  Jesus (the Jew) touched lepers, ignored Sabbath laws on more than one occasion, touched a woman with a bodily discharge, befriended Gentiles, and handled a corpse. People complained that his disciples ate with "unclean" hands and didn't fast.

And here we see what had become a problem.  Humans have this tendency to make excuses for what we do, while seeking to bring others down in order to make ourselves look better.  And the purity laws became a good example of that.  It became a way to divide, to create a hierarchy between those who considered themselves clean (and thus closer to God), and the ‘unclean’, who were shunned and excluded as dirty sinners who were far from God.  Instead of the purity codes reflecting the holiness of God, they became a means of excluding people who were considered polluted or contaminated.  People like Simon.

Simon the gentile, Simon the tanner, would have broken more ritual purity laws than could be listed.  He was about as unclean a person as you could find.  Yet, it was in Simon’s home that Peter stayed.  It was in Simon’s home that Peter had his vision of unclean animals.  It was this vision that awoke within Peter the realization that even though the purity laws forbid him from associating with Gentiles, forbid him from associating with “unclean” people, "God has shown me that I should not call any man impure or unclean. I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism." (Acts 10:34)

Peter’s realization was a continuation of how Jesus had turned the purity system, and the way it divided people, on its head.  The new community, the new way, the new Kingdom that Jesus announced would be characterized by compassion for everyone, not how well you followed some set of laws.  It would be defined by a radical inclusivity, rather than a divisive exclusivity.  It was defined by the transformation of the heart rather than outward rituals.  Jesus replaced the call of God to ‘be holy, for I am holy,’ with God’s call to ‘be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.’

For Jesus, it was not possible to cast someone far enough away that he would shun them.  Not Roman collaborators, not lepers, not prostitutes, not the crazed, not the possessed; and not Simon the tanner.

As I’ve spent this week thinking about this text, as I’ve spent this week reflecting on it with the tragic events of Boston being on my mind, I found myself often begging forgiveness from God for placing people in my outcast list.  At times I had to stop and remind myself that two individuals do not a religion make, two individuals do not a culture make.  I had to stop and think about who else I may have given the label of outcast, of impure, of not holy – the mentally ill, the super wealthy, the super poor, politicians who hold views different than mine, just about anyone different from me.  How have I unwittingly distorted the self-sacrificing love of God into something that is ugly, unclean, and self-serving; something to make myself feel better at the expense of others?

Peter had to spend time with Simon the tanner to have his eyes opened to the radical welcome, the radical lack of favoritism that God shows.  In our lives God is calling us to that same awakening, that same vision that Peter came to understand.  May we all come to know, live and experience what New Testament scholar Marcus Borg calls a "community shaped not by the ethos and politics of purity, but by the ethos and politics of compassion,"[1]  which sounds an awful lot like the community the disciple Tabitha was trying to live out in Joppa.   Amen.

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[1] Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, Marcus Borg, p. 53

Fear Not! - reflections on events in Boston

As someone who at one time in his life thought himself a runner, the events in Boston on Monday April 16, 2013 hit hard.  It was once my goal and dream to run the Boston Marathon.  I know people who have run through the streets of that historic town in this country’s oldest and most famous marathon.  Our thoughts and prayers are with the people of Boston.  Our prayers are with the many injured people, and our sorrow and prayers reach out to the families of those whose lives were so tragically ended on a day that was supposed to be full of joy, happiness and triumph.  In the coming days and weeks I’m sure that we will get more and more information; that we will come to know who it was that did such a terrible thing and why they felt justified in putting the lives of so many people in danger.  But right now, our question, our sigh, our cry, our wail, is, “Why?”

                There have been in recent years far too many events that have brought our country together in sorrow and pain, and crying out, “Why?”: Oklahoma City, Columbine, 9/11, Newtown, to name just a few, and now Boston is added to a list that was too long already.

As people who look to our faith, as people who turn to God in prayer in times of joy and in times of sorrow, I’m sure that many of us dropped to our knees in prayer when we heard the news from Boston.  We opened up our hearts in prayers lifted up to God for the well-being of all those affected, whether victims, bystanders or care-givers.  I too was amongst those whose thoughts and prayers were part of a massive chorus lifted up to God.  I too was one of those whose voice cried out, “Why God?  Why?”

                 All of us have favorite passages, favorite verses we turn to in times of trouble.  For many, the 23^rd Psalm is a source of comfort and hope.  By coincidence, or the power of the Holy Spirit, it is the Psalm appointed in the Revised Common Lectionary for next Sunday.  I often turn to the 23^rd Psalm, but for me, the passage that speaks to me in my times of questioning, my times of pain, my times of crying out to God is Isaiah 43, especially the first two verses:

But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

These verses probably speak to me because of the song we used to sing at youth group in high school that was based on these verses.  I can still remember us shouting at the top of our lungs, “Fear Not!”  In moments when I feel the most insecure, when I feel the most out of sorts, when I feel the most helpless, when I feel the most afraid, the song comes to my mind. ‘I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, child you are mine.’ ‘Fear not!  For I am with you says the Lord.’

                As a parent, I know what it is like to comfort a child who is afraid.  I have been woken in the middle of the night by a small hand reaching up, touching my shoulder, a small voice whimpering.  I have taken that scared little girl into my arms, comforting her, telling her that it’s okay, that Mommy and Daddy will protect her, that she doesn’t have anything to be afraid of.  That’s easy to say when we are talking about a bad dream, or a monster in the closet.  Not so easy when it’s a bomb in a backpack, or a shooter in a schoolyard.  How do we speak words of comfort then?  How can we say that everything is going to be all right?  How can we say, “Fear not!”?

                The reality is that without God we cannot.  Without knowing that there is more to life than just you and me.  Without knowing that life does not end with our last breath, there can be no hope, there can be no peace.  Without the peace that God brings, there can be only fear in the face of events and situations beyond our control.

                As a parent, I know all too well the fear of sending my children off into the world not knowing what is going to happen to them.  I know the discomfort of trying to contact my wife when I am worried about her, and then not being able to get an answer from her.  I know the fear of insecurity that can wrap it’s fingers around our hearts and take away our breath as we watch replay after replay of explosions and clouds of smoke rising in the sky.  I know the feeling of helplessness that all too easily can force us to stop, unable to move or think about anything but that moment.

                Yet, God tells us again and again in scripture that in those moments of tragedy, in those moments when we feel truly alone and powerless, we are not alone.  God is with us.  God promises to be with us.  As the Psalmist wrote, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me”, and again from Psalm 46: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”  But, even though we know God is present, even though we know Jesus is with us, we can still be overcome by fear, we can still feel completely helpless in the moment of tragedy and sorrow.

                Last night I had the opportunity to talk with a friend who has successfully reached day 20 of being clean and sober.  It has not been an easy road.  I rejoice to see that he is taking the steps necessary to bring his life back under control.  Dealing with an addiction, facing it fully and declaring war against it, is all about coming face to face with fear, face to face with the reality that we are not in control, that we cannot do it on our own.  He said over and over again in our conversation that he doesn’t know what the future holds, that he doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring.  He can only live for today, doing his best to keep himself clean, doing his best to enrich the lives of those around him.  Knowing that he is not alone, that there is a power greater than him that he can turn to for support.

Without question, God is present.  Yet, there are also a multitude of others present.  There are many people that will be there to hold him accountable, that will be there to listen to him as he shares his battles with his demons, and in that there is comfort.  Even though he has no clue what tomorrow will bring, even though he still feels the clawing grasp of addiction, even though he still fears falling back under that power, he knows the comfort of not being alone.

As I watched the coverage of the events in Boston, yesterday and this morning, I was struck again and again with how even as the smoke was still rising, and people were picking themselves up off the ground, trying to determine what had happened, there were people running; running not from the chaos, but into it; seeking to bring comfort in that moment of fear and terror.

We struggle to understand why in these moments, and we always will.  We will probably eventually discover the ‘why’ of Boston.  But, we will never understand why it is that life seems to be so full of tragedy, so full of sorrow and pain, so full of things that bring fear.  The question of ‘why’ may escape us, but the answer of ‘who’ will be there.  Who is there in the midst of the why?  Who is there bringing comfort, who is there with a message of hope, who is there sharing a peace that passes all human understanding?

The answer of course is God, the answer is Jesus.  The answer is found in the one who became one of us, who took upon himself all the pain and sorrow, joy and terror of life when we was born in the small town of Bethlehem.  The answer is found in the one who walked amongst us, bringing healing and hope, comfort and welcome to people who lived their lives with little to hope in.  The answer can be found in the one who took upon himself the sins of the world as he was nailed to the cross.  The answer can be found in the one whose rising from the grave scattered darkness and death.  The answer can be found in the one who said, “I am with you always.”

The answer can be found in the one who promises us that we will never be alone, that though there will times of fear, there will be times of tragedy, there will be times of sorrow, there will be times when death comes to those we know and love; we will not be alone in those times.  Even in the midst of the chaos that is unfolding, sometimes exploding around us, God is with us.  God is there saying, “Fear not, I am with you.”  Comfort is there to be found, comfort is there to be given.

As we pray for the people in Boston, and in all the places around the world that deal with death and tragedy, we do so knowing that God is in the midst of it all.  God is there, bringing comfort, bringing hope, bringing peace, and soothing fears.  May all those who have been touched by the events in Boston, and by tragedy in all corners of the globe know the presence and promise of God that can overpower fear.  God is with us.  Fear Not!

Being Right

Third Sunday of Easter – Year C

April 14, 2013

Acts 9:1-6, (7-20)

Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" He asked, "Who are you, Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do."

[The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, "Ananias." He answered, "Here I am, Lord." The Lord said to him, "Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight." But Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name." But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name." So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God."] 

When it comes to conversion stories, when it comes to accounts of how God has entered in and changed a person this morning’s text from Acts is without question right at the top of just about any list you could come up with.  You don’t get much of a better story than that of Saul who we came to know as Paul.

We first encounter Saul at Stephen’s stoning.  He was there, holding the coats of those who were throwing the stones.  We know from his own writing that he was a Pharisee, one of those persons in Jewish culture at the time that was concerned, perhaps even obsessed, with what it was the scripture said.  Not so much what it said word for word, but what it meant.  Pharisees because of their deep concern for understanding the Hebrew Bible had immense knowledge of it.  It would have been common to encounter a Pharisee who had all of what we call the Old Testament memorized.

Saul knew scripture, he knew what the Torah said, and his knowledge of those books convinced him that this new movement within Judaism, that those who were part of called ‘the Way’ were dangerous and needed to be stopped.  So, Saul embarked on the first century equivalent of the inquisition.  He was authorized to search out and find any and all individuals that he determined were a part of the Way.  Once found, they would be shipped back to Jerusalem where they would receive their punishment.  It sounds like a job he was pretty good at, because Ananias in his conversation with God brings it up – how much evil Saul had done in Jerusalem.  And yet, it was Saul that God chose to be the bearer of the gospel to many people.  The man whose letters and correspondence did more to shape Christianity than other person other than Jesus himself.

As someone who grew up within the church, much like many of you, I was always a bit envious of Saul and his powerful conversion story.   While I was in New Guinea in high school, I would hear testimonies on a regular basis at our worship gatherings.  Stories of how God had powerfully entered into lives, how drug and alcohol dependencies had disappeared overnight.  How people had been freed from abuse, or lives of crime.  And there I sat, that kid from Iowa whose parents were Lutheran missionaries, who could barely remember a day in his life when the church and God had not played a central role.  It’s sad, but there were times I longed to be bad, so that I too could be changed and used by God for good.

There is no question that there are people who have had their lives transformed in miraculous ways; I’ve met many of them.   But, they are actually the exception rather than the norm.  Most people in the church are like you and me.  We may not have been born believing, but it wasn’t long before we were asking our parents about God and Jesus.  Faith for most of us wasn’t so much a blinding light as it was a flower slowly unfolding its presence in our lives.  We are drawn to the stories of dramatic conversion; it’s easier to see things when the change is really evident.  From breathing threats and murder against the disciples to being a forgiven apostle.  The power of God to change our lives and our hearts is evident.

So often when we read or hear this story, we do so focusing on Saul.  Yet, there were two conversions that happened.  Saul, the oppressor of the faith who became its disciple; and Ananias, the reluctant disciple who came to call Saul, ‘Brother’.  We don’t know much about Ananias, yet it is his conversion that would most likely seem familiar to most of us.  He’s heard about Saul.  He knows the stories, he knows that this man God wants him to go to and heal was not a ‘good man.’  In fact, Ananias may have gotten word that Saul was headed in his direction and was keeping himself well and truly hidden so as to avoid being shipped off to Jerusalem.  And God comes to him and tells him to go.  Ananias doesn’t think it’s a good idea.

Do you blame him?  I would have probably argued as well.  Why should I go to the person who is trying to do me harm?  Why would I want to be nice to someone who has been doing not nice things to people I call friends?  Ananias protests against going to Saul because of Saul’s history: essentially saying, ‘it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks”.  It’s a view that all of us have found ourselves in at one time or another, reluctant to reach out a hand in aid because of who the aid is going to, reluctant to be loving and kind because we’ve seen the person in question being hateful, evil and just not nice to those we love.  It’s a position that all of us can relate to, even if we hang our heads when we admit it.

Of course, as amazing as Ananias’ change of heart was, Saul’s was even greater.  Have you ever known, without question that you were right?  That everything you’ve ever known, everything you believe, everything you have been taught has led you to a specific understanding?  Have you then argued for that position?  Have you criticized those who held a position contrary to yours?  That was the position Saul found himself in.  He was convinced of his position.  He was convinced by scripture of his position, he knew he was right.  Right up to the point that he encountered the light of Christ, and discovered he was wrong.

In the light of Christ, Saul saw something that he never expected, in the light of Christ, Paul woke up to something, he was touched by God.  God can be experienced in all sorts of ways, but one of the foremost is love.  God came to Saul and overcame his hate and judgment of the early Christian church, and we all know that love overcomes hate.  “That overwhelming sense of love, embodied in Christ, and now flowing in the body of Christ, namely those identified with him and his story, broke through barriers and reached out to all.

Paul saw himself as a prime example of this amazing love, this amazing grace - as did Luke, who wrote Acts. Such amazing grace also changed Paul's perspective on scripture from a fearing defensive fundamentalism to a centered, critical, interpretation, inspired by Jesus' own stance. He was prepared to follow it in the face of pressure from other leaders of the early church.  He was going to welcome Gentiles in regular table fellowship.  He fought against the idea that circumcision was required to be a follower of the Way.  Paul asserted again and again in his letters that in the love of God in Christ we are no longer under the biblical law, even though we more than fulfill the legitimate demands it contains.”[1]

Paul was changed by God in a powerful way.  Ananias was also transformed by the presence of God.  “The story of Saul and Ananias invite us to ponder how we will look at our own world when God takes our "no way," and our "we've never done that before" and transforms them into "yes." Like Saul's and Ananias' new vision, God rearranges our ways of seeing, being, and acting. God changes our world.”[2]

God like to change people too.  Sometimes it happens slowly (almost invisibly), like how drops of water can over time cut a hole through solid rock, other times it can happen instantly and in powerful ways, like Saul’s encounter on the road to Damascus and his transformation that follows.  What are the ways we have been moved and changed by God?  Has God asked us to look deep into our souls and think about who we are, what we believe?  Do you believe the same things you did a few years ago, a few decades ago, last week?  Do you feel that God is still challenging you, asking you to accept that you have scales over your own eyes that need to be removed?  Is that a scary thought?  Are you open to God changing you, even if you know you are right?  How is the light of Christ bringing new life in your life?  Amen.

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[1] http://wwwstaff.murdoch.edu.au/~loader/CActsEaster3.htm

[2] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?lect_date=4/18/2010

Voices of Grace

Second Sunday of Easter – Year C

April 7, 2013

Acts 5:27-32

When they had brought them, they had them stand before the council. The high priest questioned them, saying, "We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man's blood on us." But Peter and the apostles answered, "We must obey God rather than any human authority. The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him."

My two girls are growing up far too fast.  It seems as if every time I pause and really take notice of them I’m shocked by how much they have changed; how much bigger they are, how they are using bigger words, how they are reading things they couldn’t read just a few weeks ago, how they are beginning to understand concepts that would have been completely foreign to them just a short time ago.  But, even as they grow, I still see within them the bright shining light of innocence that only a child can have.

One of the many things I treasure about my girls is the way in which they act when they are happy.  They can’t hide it.  They run around, they jump and squeal, they literally are bouncing with joy and happiness.  The same thing when they feel they know something that no one else knows, or if they have a secret they want to share with you.  They rush over, cup their hands over their mouth and your ear and loudly whisper their treasured information.

I’ve read in parenting books and heard from many-a-person that you should never trust a child with a secret.  And I can see the truth in that.  Children want to share the things they know and discover.  Every day when Addy comes home she has some new piece of information she learned in first grade, which she wants to share with me.  She tells me of her new found knowledge as if it’s something I have never heard before.  “Daddy, did you know that an eagle is bird of prey?”  She’s thrilled with knowing, and sharing what she knows gives her joy.  Or, I will be told with a voice that is almost trembling with excitement of the upcoming birthday party plans of a classmate who is going to have balloons, a rainbow cake and Bratzilla cups and plates!

Secrets are tough for children to keep, because everything they see or hear or learn is new; if it’s something that makes them excited they want to share that excitement with others.  If you’ve ever thrown a Mentos in your mouth, followed up with a big gulp of pop and sought to keep everything contained, it gives you a pretty good idea of what it’s like to be a child asked to keep a secret about something that’s totally cool and exciting.

The apostles in our text had a tough time keeping their mouths shut too.  Sure, what they had to share wasn’t a “secret”, but it was definitely something that some people wished they kept to themselves.  But, like a child that can’t keep their mouth shut, the apostles keep telling everyone the wonderful news they have to share.  I wonder if the religious authorities felt like so many teachers and parents who tell the children to be quiet, and the second they turn their backs the whispering begins again.

Did you know that the amazing things the apostles couldn’t keep to themselves are things that we know too?  That’s pretty cool.  All that stuff about Jesus being the Messiah, all that stuff about how Jesus came and lived amongst us, teaching and bringing healing and hope to people, all that stuff about how he died on the cross and on Easter broke out of the grave.  Yeah, that stuff.  You know, the good news.  The stories we hear every Sunday, the events we celebrated and recalled just last week with our festive hymns and songs.  You know, that big secret.  Only it’s not a secret.

It may not be a secret but, we sure are pretty good about keeping it to ourselves.  The disciples were threatened with imprisonment, if we read our text a bit further, we read how they were flogged; yet they couldn’t stop themselves from sharing the wonderful news.  What’s stopping us?  How often do we find ourselves keeping the good news to ourselves, in our words and actions?

I know that talking about our faith with other people, talking about how our relationship with God has provided us with comfort, hope, joy, assurance in our lives is something that can cause most of us to experience a shaking of our knees, sweaty palms and a pit in our stomach.  I understand, I’ve been there, I sometimes still am there.  And we don’t have flogging to look forward to if we get caught telling someone about our God.

When the apostles were brought before the council and given their stern lecture, followed by their flogging, Christianity had yet to separate itself from Judaism.  There was no New Testament, only the memories and stories about Jesus.  There were no new churches, they still gathered with the Jewish people in the synagogues and Temple in Jerusalem.  They saw themselves as Jews who had experienced the Messiah.  The voice of the apostles was just one more added to the multiple voices of Jewish faith in Jerusalem.  Yet, they kept talking, they made themselves heard, and the Holy Spirit gave power to the words they spoke, to the faith they lived out.

In this day and age, in the places and neighborhoods we live in, we may feel ours is just one more voice within the multitude of voices proclaiming Jesus; what do we really have to offer that isn’t already being said? 

Once again, I’m reminded of my children.  I don’t know about the rest of you who are parents, but in our house, it seems that directions have to be repeated multiple times before anything happens, or I have to raise my voice and turn into ‘mean Dad’ before anything happens.  Pick up your dirty clothes has to be repeated again and again, and sometimes I have to stand there and watch to make sure they actually do it.  “Put your shoes on, it’s time to go”, has to be said at least three or four times before a shoe gets anywhere near a foot, much less on it.  But, if I want them to respond, if we are ever going to get to leave, I have to keep speaking even if they seem to be ignoring me, or not hearing me.

We’ve all experienced times when we hear something, only to be told that it’s been said multiple times before we ever heard it.  Sometimes we may not have been paying attention, maybe the emphasis had been on wrong syllable, maybe it was the way it was said, or the accent of the speaker.  In the news media, the accent they look for is the one we hear a lot here, the Midwestern accent.  Some people have gone so far as to say that Tom Brokaw who was from South Dakota had the perfect accent for television news.  People tend to look for certain accents, they find certain voices pleasing to their ears, they understand some accents better than others.

What we do in our day-to-day lives, we also tend to do in our faith lives.  In Christianity today it seems like there are lots of people speaking, and lots of different accents being heard, lots of different things that people are emphasizing; and we are all drawn to certain accents, certain voices.  What is the voice, what is the accent of your faith, of your Christianity that you are most drawn to, that you hear best, that brings you that feeling of peace?

Is it a voice of love?  Is it a voice of judgment?  Is it a voice of acceptance or of exclusion?  Is it a voice that tells you that there is only one way to think about things or a voice that says that things are rarely black and white?  What is the voice of faith that you have been given to speak?

We have all been given a voice, we have all been given the task and calling to share the good news.  We do it in our own ways, with an accent that is, in many ways, uniquely ours.  How are you using your voice and your accent?  Is the voice we have been speaking and sharing with others the same voice that gives us comfort and hope, or have we been creating a fake accent, thinking that others will hear it and like it better?    Are you listening to the accent of society, culture and popularity or the accent of God?  How’s your accent?  Amen.