A Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter
April 27, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Acts 17:22-31
Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, "Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us. For ‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’ Since we are God's offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead."(NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
It is amazing how much a person can accumulate and nowhere is this more apparent than when you move. I remember one year as we were all getting ready to move out of our seminary dorm rooms, I stopped in on a friend who was sorting her items before she began to pack them into boxes. I made my way gingerly through the numerous and precarious piles of stuff before settling down in what seemed to be the only free corner of the room. There was not much to say, I was generally amazed at the amount of things she had managed to pack into her little room. She had a system to combat the accumulation, she would move from one section of the room to the other working one shelf and one drawer at time. Only if I had viewed her on a time-lapsed camera would I be able to enjoy the full effect of her moving madness.
While she was going through some items in her desk she handed me a metal screw cap.
"What is this," I asked.
She shrugged, "I don't know, but it goes in that box beside to you."
I looked to my side and saw a box filled with strange objects, each one of them was a piece of something from something. I dropped the cap inside the box. She told me that the box was her "what's this?" box and it was a tradition that she began some years back when she discovered that unusual items would turn up, which she could not identify, yet she could not throw out until everything had been sorted. If the items in the "what's this?" box did not find homes by the end of the packing then they would be thrown away.
The notion of the 'what's this?' is something we can all relate to, not only in housecleaning, but in the workplace, relationships, just about every aspect of human interaction. We are all confronted at some time by something that we do not understand yet we feel it is too significant to just dismiss, so we place the issue in the back of our minds with the hope that perhaps someday we will come to understand it.
Athens, Greece was a leading city of intellectuals. It was the place where many went to study arts and letters. A very 'heady' city that was not easily disturbed by new thought; however, six hundred years before Paul's delivery to the Athenians a terrible pestilence ravaged the land. The survivors felt that they had upset the Grecian gods and had to make amends. It was suggested, by a resident poet, that sheep be let loose in the town and when the sheep had run themselves to exhaustion then the place where the sheep came to rest would be the place where they would be slaughtered to the god whose temple they were nearest to. If a sheep came to rest near no particular shrine or temple then that sheep would be sacrificed to "the unknown god." There was an understanding to the Greeks that they did not feel that they had discovered all the gods that existed—they had the sneaking suspicion that there was a god whose presence could be felt but even though they did not fully understand who the god was. This feeling of an unknown god was too important for the Greeks to dismiss, but they just did not know who this god might be so they built up shrines to an unknown god, thus keeping connection with this god whose appearance was still a mystery to them. It is this notion of the "unknown god" that Paul builds his presentation to the gathered intellectuals in Athens, which we heard in our first lesson from Acts.
Paul appears to them in the Areopagus, a prominent area in the center of town that served as a kind of ‘speaker's corner.’ He explains to the Athenians that he knows the identity and character of their 'unknown god.' So he begins to unfold his findings to the people of Athens. Paul asserts that. this God is the one, true living God—that he is not limited to the walls of the temples nor is this God the creation of human imagination. These many shrines and idols that the Greeks have created are not the places where God dwells and the Athenians have been mistaken to feel that their gold and silver reproductions can match the power of the living God.
Paul asserts that God alone is the creator and we are the creation—this means that we are merely the creatures of this God and we have no access to the inner thoughts and actions of God. This God is not like their Greek gods who demand the sacrifice of sheep and cattle in order to bestow blessings. Paul tells the Athenians that while they were in darkness, they stumbled around for the truth—they made idols and worshipped those idols because they did not know the living God. They did not know any better. He adds that God acknowledged with a 'wink' their actions, but now that they have heard the gospel, God is calling everyone to repentance. No more will the idolatry be ignored as it was before, once the truth has been revealed then ignorance is no longer a valid excuse. Furthermore, Paul demonstrates to the people that God has spoken the terms of his judgment through the resurrection of his appointed one, Jesus Christ, and that through him, all will be raised and judged accordingly.
Paul's words continue to resonate through the halls of time and confront us here today as well. Like the Athenians, we have been searching for God and perhaps groping for God. And in Jesus, we have heard the good news that God is not far from each one of us. We can no longer claim ignorance as to the nature and character of God. “Oh, I don’t know God...I don’t know what God wants from me!” This is no longer a valid excuse, you see. Because Christ has come, we cannot place our religious faith in the “what's this?” pile, acting like we just don’t know any better. We do know better, for we have heard the Gospel—and many of us have heard it for years and years! And now that we have heard it, we cannot go on with our idolatries and ignorance about faith.
Since we have heard the Gospel and know it, what is important now, is how we respond to Christ. For in Christ, we have seen the mysterious, unknown God and, in this way, we can know God. This God of the universe is no longer a mystery to us, a “what’s this?” God. No. This God has been revealed to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and now that we know this, how shall we proceed? This is a question we must all ask ourselves. We are called to put aside our former, ignorant ways—to repent and follow this Savior, Jesus Christ, who can show us the way to the Father, who can help us know the unknown God, and who is coming again to judge the world in righteousness. May we follow him with all our hearts. Amen
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
MY LOVE IS MY SHEPHERD
A Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Easter
April 13, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and from our Savior Jesus Christ.
In a Peanuts cartoon, Lucy stands with her arms folded and a resolute expression on her face, while Charlie Brown pleads with her. "Lucy," he says, "you must be more loving. The world needs love. Make this world a better place, Lucy, by loving someone else." At that Lucy whirls around angrily and Charlie goes flipping over backwards. "Look, you blockhead," Lucy screams. "The world I love. It's people I can't stand!"
We laugh at Lucy’s antics but her attitude here is all too prevalent. It’s funny because it is true. People trying to get along with people is a dicey business. We can get pretty jaded and exhausted trying to deal with the conditional love and the lack of love we see in the world.
And so when we stop to consider the love of God, it seems too good to be true. We are not used to such lavish love, especially when it is undeserved. The 23rd Psalm from our lectionary today is a famous song of God’s love and care for us.
It uses the metaphor of sheep and a shepherd. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” it declares. We are so accustomed to this language because of the popularity of the psalm but have you ever stopped to think about the implications of our sheepness in this metaphor? Sheep. Why would we be sheep? Why not something more exotic like an eagle, perhaps.
You may have heard that sheep are kind of stupid. That doesn’t make us feel too good about ourselves, then, does it? But you see, sheep in Biblical times were highly valued. They were central in the economy and so it isn’t actually an insult to be called a sheep. For us to be sheep and have God as a shepherd means that we are enormously valued.
The shepherd in this Psalm goes to great lengths to care for the sheep. There are many tender images here about the way our shepherd leads and cares for us. And the verbs in this passage are all talking about the shepherd. It is the Lord who does all the active things: leads, restores, comforts, anoints, and so forth. The sheep passively receive all this, simply enjoying the marvelous gifts provided by the shepherd.
In this Psalm, it is interesting to note, it says that the shepherd prepares the table. In Biblical times, this preparation meant preparing the fields for the sheep. The shepherd would have many things to do in order to make a field graze-ready for the sheep. There would be poisonous weeds and thorns to remove, along with snakes and scorpion’s nests. In the evening, the shepherd would corral the sheep and tend to the injured ones, treating them with oil and a curative drink sweetened with honey. The 23rd speaks of these things, explaining that this is what the Lord does for each one of us.
Another important thing to note about sheep is that they are communal animals. They don’t thrive alone. They need to be with others and they need a shepherd to guide and protect them. So, we need one another. As members of the church, we have the delightful assurance that we are not alone. We struggle to have faith and live God’s will, not as individuals but as a community. As a flock, we share a common life and this is, indeed, good news.
Then, in our gospel reading today, Jesus calls himself the good shepherd. He says that he calls the sheep and that they know his voice. I once saw a wildlife special in which a baby hippo had been orphaned and was being cared for by human caretakers. The little hippo looked pretty placid in the pen until his human “mother” came out to feed him. She called his name and little ears began to quiver with joy and he ran toward her with great vigor. It just sticks in my mind as a metaphor as to how we should respond when Jesus calls. So now you’ve been compared to not only a sheep today, but a hippo as well!
Jesus, as our good shepherd, calls us gently into a relationship. He never forces himself into our lives though that is where he most wants to be. No, he gently woos us into a loving relationship because of all the love he gives to us first. When the Lucys of the world scream “it’s people I can’t stand!” Jesus says, “it’s people I can’t stand to be without!” and he pours himself out for us.
Jesus, who is both the shepherd and the gate declares that he came for us, that we might be life more abundantly. As the gate, he has opened the way for us. He seeks us so urgently, that we—along with the rest of the flock—might be God’s own.
Yet it is hard to feel this loved. We feel beaten down by life’s hard blows, unworthy and unable to accept this love as it is lavished upon us by God. But that is the whole point. The theologian Walter Brueggemann once wrote: “The true joy and purpose of life are to love God and be loved by God, no longer alone, but in communion." True joy, my friends, true joy! Don’t you want it? Don’t you want to lay claim to it?
Can we admit that we are helpless sheep in need of a trustworthy shepherd? We accept the unfathomable love of God who loves us just as we are? What would living in that love fully mean for our daily living? How would accepting ourselves as God accepts us translate into the way we treat others? Let us prayerfully invite our good shepherd to love us that we may know and share this love.
In closing, I would like to share a brand new recording with you. Augsburg Fortress Publishers just produced this recording of modern renditions of Psalms by Richard Bruxvoort Colligan. The web site for this album is: The Psalm Project: Sharing the Road. In this version of the 23rd Psalm it calls the Lord “my love,” suggesting a deep, loving relationship with God. The pronoun is feminine, which might seem jarring at first, but it is intended to help us think of God’s presence in a mothering, nurturing way. Let us listen to it and pray along, inviting God’s love to overwhelm us today.
VERSE 1
My Love is my shepherd; I need nothing more For she leads me into lush pastures of green And beside the still waters My life is renewed today Guiding me in the best paths of her way, Though I walk through the valley of darkness and fear, My Love is with me.
VERSE 2
Anointed and bless’d with abundance, I thrive With a table prepared in spite of my enemies And all my secret fears My soul lacks for nothing now Goodness and mercy are following me Every day of my life And I’m forever home in the presence of Love
Copyright © 2008 Augsburg Fortress. All Rights Reserved.
For more information visit Behind the Song.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
April 13, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and from our Savior Jesus Christ.
In a Peanuts cartoon, Lucy stands with her arms folded and a resolute expression on her face, while Charlie Brown pleads with her. "Lucy," he says, "you must be more loving. The world needs love. Make this world a better place, Lucy, by loving someone else." At that Lucy whirls around angrily and Charlie goes flipping over backwards. "Look, you blockhead," Lucy screams. "The world I love. It's people I can't stand!"
We laugh at Lucy’s antics but her attitude here is all too prevalent. It’s funny because it is true. People trying to get along with people is a dicey business. We can get pretty jaded and exhausted trying to deal with the conditional love and the lack of love we see in the world.
And so when we stop to consider the love of God, it seems too good to be true. We are not used to such lavish love, especially when it is undeserved. The 23rd Psalm from our lectionary today is a famous song of God’s love and care for us.
It uses the metaphor of sheep and a shepherd. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” it declares. We are so accustomed to this language because of the popularity of the psalm but have you ever stopped to think about the implications of our sheepness in this metaphor? Sheep. Why would we be sheep? Why not something more exotic like an eagle, perhaps.
You may have heard that sheep are kind of stupid. That doesn’t make us feel too good about ourselves, then, does it? But you see, sheep in Biblical times were highly valued. They were central in the economy and so it isn’t actually an insult to be called a sheep. For us to be sheep and have God as a shepherd means that we are enormously valued.
The shepherd in this Psalm goes to great lengths to care for the sheep. There are many tender images here about the way our shepherd leads and cares for us. And the verbs in this passage are all talking about the shepherd. It is the Lord who does all the active things: leads, restores, comforts, anoints, and so forth. The sheep passively receive all this, simply enjoying the marvelous gifts provided by the shepherd.
In this Psalm, it is interesting to note, it says that the shepherd prepares the table. In Biblical times, this preparation meant preparing the fields for the sheep. The shepherd would have many things to do in order to make a field graze-ready for the sheep. There would be poisonous weeds and thorns to remove, along with snakes and scorpion’s nests. In the evening, the shepherd would corral the sheep and tend to the injured ones, treating them with oil and a curative drink sweetened with honey. The 23rd speaks of these things, explaining that this is what the Lord does for each one of us.
Another important thing to note about sheep is that they are communal animals. They don’t thrive alone. They need to be with others and they need a shepherd to guide and protect them. So, we need one another. As members of the church, we have the delightful assurance that we are not alone. We struggle to have faith and live God’s will, not as individuals but as a community. As a flock, we share a common life and this is, indeed, good news.
Then, in our gospel reading today, Jesus calls himself the good shepherd. He says that he calls the sheep and that they know his voice. I once saw a wildlife special in which a baby hippo had been orphaned and was being cared for by human caretakers. The little hippo looked pretty placid in the pen until his human “mother” came out to feed him. She called his name and little ears began to quiver with joy and he ran toward her with great vigor. It just sticks in my mind as a metaphor as to how we should respond when Jesus calls. So now you’ve been compared to not only a sheep today, but a hippo as well!
Jesus, as our good shepherd, calls us gently into a relationship. He never forces himself into our lives though that is where he most wants to be. No, he gently woos us into a loving relationship because of all the love he gives to us first. When the Lucys of the world scream “it’s people I can’t stand!” Jesus says, “it’s people I can’t stand to be without!” and he pours himself out for us.
Jesus, who is both the shepherd and the gate declares that he came for us, that we might be life more abundantly. As the gate, he has opened the way for us. He seeks us so urgently, that we—along with the rest of the flock—might be God’s own.
Yet it is hard to feel this loved. We feel beaten down by life’s hard blows, unworthy and unable to accept this love as it is lavished upon us by God. But that is the whole point. The theologian Walter Brueggemann once wrote: “The true joy and purpose of life are to love God and be loved by God, no longer alone, but in communion." True joy, my friends, true joy! Don’t you want it? Don’t you want to lay claim to it?
Can we admit that we are helpless sheep in need of a trustworthy shepherd? We accept the unfathomable love of God who loves us just as we are? What would living in that love fully mean for our daily living? How would accepting ourselves as God accepts us translate into the way we treat others? Let us prayerfully invite our good shepherd to love us that we may know and share this love.
In closing, I would like to share a brand new recording with you. Augsburg Fortress Publishers just produced this recording of modern renditions of Psalms by Richard Bruxvoort Colligan. The web site for this album is: The Psalm Project: Sharing the Road. In this version of the 23rd Psalm it calls the Lord “my love,” suggesting a deep, loving relationship with God. The pronoun is feminine, which might seem jarring at first, but it is intended to help us think of God’s presence in a mothering, nurturing way. Let us listen to it and pray along, inviting God’s love to overwhelm us today.
My Love is my shepherd; I need nothing more For she leads me into lush pastures of green And beside the still waters My life is renewed today Guiding me in the best paths of her way, Though I walk through the valley of darkness and fear, My Love is with me.
VERSE 2
Anointed and bless’d with abundance, I thrive With a table prepared in spite of my enemies And all my secret fears My soul lacks for nothing now Goodness and mercy are following me Every day of my life And I’m forever home in the presence of Love
Copyright © 2008 Augsburg Fortress. All Rights Reserved.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
Sunday, April 6, 2008
HOLY HEARTBURN
A Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter
April 6, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 24:13-35
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.(NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
This morning’s gospel text takes place on that first Easter morning, the day that the women found Jesus’ tomb empty and were greeted by an angel. As our text begins, two very downtrodden disciples are sadly making their way to Emmaus, a seven mile journey from Jerusalem. It was just four days ago that they had shared the bread and cup with Jesus at the Last Supper. Yet, now their shattered world is crumbling in on them and they feel the sting of loneliness. They are so caught up in the drama of this tragic narrative that when Jesus himself shows up, they don’t even recognize him. He comes right up to them and asks, “what’s going on?” Still, they cannot see that it is their Lord! Cleopas answers him, “don’t you know anything?” and then proceeds to tell him all about Jesus’ death and burial. Jesus patiently listens to his whole oration and at length, he begins instructing these two who are slow of heart to believe. He uncovers the mystery of the Holy Scriptures and explains the words of the prophets and how they spoke of the coming Messiah. Now he didn’t make them memorize any of Luther’s small catechism or take any sermon notes like we do for our confirmation students, but he did instruct them at length. And this is not the first time the disciples been instructed. Certainly Jesus taught them many many times while he was with them before his death.
Why are these two so foolish? How can they not recognize their own leader? I mean did he shave off his beard or something? Did he have a new and improved “Risen” look to him? We don’t know. Luke simply says, “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” Certainly it is understandable. Their Lord has just died. They are disturbed, afraid, disappointed, weary, confused, and feeling abandoned. They cannot make sense out of what had happened. And the Risen Jesus himself comes along and gives them words of Hope—of God’s plan for the Messiah, certainly profound and amazing words that should have overwhelmed them—that should have given sight to their spiritually blind eyes. But that does not happen. They continue to walk along in their darkness.
And what happens to us when we hear these stories about Jesus or when we go to Sunday School or confirmation and learn about God’s plan for our salvation through Jesus Christ? Does it turn our world upside down? Does it radically transform us into brave disciples who run off to proclaim the good news? If not, don’t be too hard on yourself—it didn’t happen that way for the disciples, either. They knew in their hearts that they were longing for God to reach out and deliver them from their terrible state, but hearing Jesus speak about the scriptures doesn’t yet do it for them.
But that night, as the disciples reach the village, they urge Jesus to remain with them, even though they still don’t know who he is. And as they sit at table, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. In that very moment, their eyes are opened. “It’s HIM!!! Could it be?” they wonder. This stranger on the road to Emmaus is their very own Jesus—the Jesus who had broken bread with them in this same manner just four days before. Their eyes are opened, and they recognize him; and he vanishes from their sight. That quick. Revelation! And then he is gone. And in his absence, it begins to dawn on them and they say, “were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”
Holy Heartburn, Batman! Their hearts were burning within them! They knew it then, but they just couldn’t put their finger on it until now—until this experience of breaking the bread with him. Now, all that opening of the scriptures talk about the Messiah on the road to Emmaus is making sense.
Even so, many things are still so unclear to them—why did Jesus have to die in the first place, and why did he trick them by not identifying himself to them, why did he vanish just when they recognized him and when is he coming back!? So many things they don’t know—that they can’t know, but they do know that they have met him in the meal. He did come to them—not even death could keep their Lord away!
Yet the questions remain. Perhaps all these questions don’t have answers that would make sense in the mere words of a sermon. Perhaps it is that God has created us in such a unique and complex way that we need more than intellectual understanding in order to open our eyes to the presence of Jesus in our midst. Perhaps in the gift of the bread and the wine, the body and blood of our savior, there is something altogether different—that can’t be explained in words, because it is an experience of the whole person—one in which Jesus transcends time and space and comes to us in a most tangible way and we experience the true presence of Christ. And then, our holy heartburn makes sense.
That same hour, the two disciples leave Emmaus and return to Jerusalem to tell the others. They don’t mind that it is the middle of the night. They aren’t upset that Jesus vanished from their sight the moment they recognized him. Just catching a glimpse of him in the meal is enough to sustain them—even on the dark journey back to Jerusalem. They have seen the truth for an instant and it has fired them with emotion and given them the assurance—the abounding assurance that their Lord is risen.
This is such an interesting story, one that connects with the lives of many people. Have you ever felt holy heartburn—the deep sense that you wanted more, needed more, that your life was missing something and that you were reaching out for it, even though you couldn’t quite figure out what it was? This is what the disciples were going through in this story. Their hearts, they later realized, were burning within them!
I’ve met many a holy heartburner in my ministry already. While I was in California, I taught a series of First Communion classes, which were also open to children who had not yet been baptized. They plan was for all the children to receive instruction in both the sacrament of Holy Baptism and Holy Communion, then on First Communion day, the children who had not yet been baptized would be baptized as well that morning. One particular session, we advertised with a flyer that went home with the children of the church’s elementary school and the response was overwhelming. Twenty eight children and their parents showed up! Ten of the children had not been baptized! And as the instruction progressed, there was holy heartburn going on. As I visited individually with the children who would be baptized, the Spirit was moving. I was sitting in the living room of one family and the mother of the child spoke up. She explained that her parents had changed churches several times and never gotten her baptized and that after receiving the baptismal instruction with her daughter, she was experiencing an intense desire to be baptized also, and would I be willing to baptize her? I was amazed at how God was calling her to baptism. And then the next day, I was meeting with another family and this child’s mother had a similar story. She too, had never been baptized and felt she was being called to baptism. As if that wasn’t enough, be the end of the week, two more mothers asked to be baptized! In the end, I baptized 14 people on one Sunday—including four mother-daughter pairs. They realized there was something about these sacraments that spoke to them in a unique way—in a way that words alone had never done. Holy Heartburn.
The miracle of this story is that Jesus knew his followers had holy heartburn and would stop at nothing to reveal himself to them. And Jesus continues to do the same for us today! Our hearts hunger and yearn for a deep, abundant, life-changing experience of God—they burn within us, and Jesus comes to meet that need. He comes to us in his Holy Word and is made known to our burning hearts. But he does not stop there, he also gives us the gifts of Holy Baptism and Holy Communion where he is manifest—where he comes to wipe away the crimson stain of our sins and tell us, “I love you, you are mine, you will always be mine.” May Christ’s appearance in word and sacrament meet your heart where you need him most.
Let us pray: Holy Jesus, we praise you for your resurrection. We praise you for appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, for meeting them in both your words and in the sacrament. Meet us today, we pray, that we may know you more and our burning hearts may be satisfied. Amen.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
April 6, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 24:13-35
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.(NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
This morning’s gospel text takes place on that first Easter morning, the day that the women found Jesus’ tomb empty and were greeted by an angel. As our text begins, two very downtrodden disciples are sadly making their way to Emmaus, a seven mile journey from Jerusalem. It was just four days ago that they had shared the bread and cup with Jesus at the Last Supper. Yet, now their shattered world is crumbling in on them and they feel the sting of loneliness. They are so caught up in the drama of this tragic narrative that when Jesus himself shows up, they don’t even recognize him. He comes right up to them and asks, “what’s going on?” Still, they cannot see that it is their Lord! Cleopas answers him, “don’t you know anything?” and then proceeds to tell him all about Jesus’ death and burial. Jesus patiently listens to his whole oration and at length, he begins instructing these two who are slow of heart to believe. He uncovers the mystery of the Holy Scriptures and explains the words of the prophets and how they spoke of the coming Messiah. Now he didn’t make them memorize any of Luther’s small catechism or take any sermon notes like we do for our confirmation students, but he did instruct them at length. And this is not the first time the disciples been instructed. Certainly Jesus taught them many many times while he was with them before his death.
Why are these two so foolish? How can they not recognize their own leader? I mean did he shave off his beard or something? Did he have a new and improved “Risen” look to him? We don’t know. Luke simply says, “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” Certainly it is understandable. Their Lord has just died. They are disturbed, afraid, disappointed, weary, confused, and feeling abandoned. They cannot make sense out of what had happened. And the Risen Jesus himself comes along and gives them words of Hope—of God’s plan for the Messiah, certainly profound and amazing words that should have overwhelmed them—that should have given sight to their spiritually blind eyes. But that does not happen. They continue to walk along in their darkness.
And what happens to us when we hear these stories about Jesus or when we go to Sunday School or confirmation and learn about God’s plan for our salvation through Jesus Christ? Does it turn our world upside down? Does it radically transform us into brave disciples who run off to proclaim the good news? If not, don’t be too hard on yourself—it didn’t happen that way for the disciples, either. They knew in their hearts that they were longing for God to reach out and deliver them from their terrible state, but hearing Jesus speak about the scriptures doesn’t yet do it for them.
But that night, as the disciples reach the village, they urge Jesus to remain with them, even though they still don’t know who he is. And as they sit at table, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. In that very moment, their eyes are opened. “It’s HIM!!! Could it be?” they wonder. This stranger on the road to Emmaus is their very own Jesus—the Jesus who had broken bread with them in this same manner just four days before. Their eyes are opened, and they recognize him; and he vanishes from their sight. That quick. Revelation! And then he is gone. And in his absence, it begins to dawn on them and they say, “were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”
Holy Heartburn, Batman! Their hearts were burning within them! They knew it then, but they just couldn’t put their finger on it until now—until this experience of breaking the bread with him. Now, all that opening of the scriptures talk about the Messiah on the road to Emmaus is making sense.
Even so, many things are still so unclear to them—why did Jesus have to die in the first place, and why did he trick them by not identifying himself to them, why did he vanish just when they recognized him and when is he coming back!? So many things they don’t know—that they can’t know, but they do know that they have met him in the meal. He did come to them—not even death could keep their Lord away!
Yet the questions remain. Perhaps all these questions don’t have answers that would make sense in the mere words of a sermon. Perhaps it is that God has created us in such a unique and complex way that we need more than intellectual understanding in order to open our eyes to the presence of Jesus in our midst. Perhaps in the gift of the bread and the wine, the body and blood of our savior, there is something altogether different—that can’t be explained in words, because it is an experience of the whole person—one in which Jesus transcends time and space and comes to us in a most tangible way and we experience the true presence of Christ. And then, our holy heartburn makes sense.
That same hour, the two disciples leave Emmaus and return to Jerusalem to tell the others. They don’t mind that it is the middle of the night. They aren’t upset that Jesus vanished from their sight the moment they recognized him. Just catching a glimpse of him in the meal is enough to sustain them—even on the dark journey back to Jerusalem. They have seen the truth for an instant and it has fired them with emotion and given them the assurance—the abounding assurance that their Lord is risen.
This is such an interesting story, one that connects with the lives of many people. Have you ever felt holy heartburn—the deep sense that you wanted more, needed more, that your life was missing something and that you were reaching out for it, even though you couldn’t quite figure out what it was? This is what the disciples were going through in this story. Their hearts, they later realized, were burning within them!
I’ve met many a holy heartburner in my ministry already. While I was in California, I taught a series of First Communion classes, which were also open to children who had not yet been baptized. They plan was for all the children to receive instruction in both the sacrament of Holy Baptism and Holy Communion, then on First Communion day, the children who had not yet been baptized would be baptized as well that morning. One particular session, we advertised with a flyer that went home with the children of the church’s elementary school and the response was overwhelming. Twenty eight children and their parents showed up! Ten of the children had not been baptized! And as the instruction progressed, there was holy heartburn going on. As I visited individually with the children who would be baptized, the Spirit was moving. I was sitting in the living room of one family and the mother of the child spoke up. She explained that her parents had changed churches several times and never gotten her baptized and that after receiving the baptismal instruction with her daughter, she was experiencing an intense desire to be baptized also, and would I be willing to baptize her? I was amazed at how God was calling her to baptism. And then the next day, I was meeting with another family and this child’s mother had a similar story. She too, had never been baptized and felt she was being called to baptism. As if that wasn’t enough, be the end of the week, two more mothers asked to be baptized! In the end, I baptized 14 people on one Sunday—including four mother-daughter pairs. They realized there was something about these sacraments that spoke to them in a unique way—in a way that words alone had never done. Holy Heartburn.
The miracle of this story is that Jesus knew his followers had holy heartburn and would stop at nothing to reveal himself to them. And Jesus continues to do the same for us today! Our hearts hunger and yearn for a deep, abundant, life-changing experience of God—they burn within us, and Jesus comes to meet that need. He comes to us in his Holy Word and is made known to our burning hearts. But he does not stop there, he also gives us the gifts of Holy Baptism and Holy Communion where he is manifest—where he comes to wipe away the crimson stain of our sins and tell us, “I love you, you are mine, you will always be mine.” May Christ’s appearance in word and sacrament meet your heart where you need him most.
Let us pray: Holy Jesus, we praise you for your resurrection. We praise you for appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, for meeting them in both your words and in the sacrament. Meet us today, we pray, that we may know you more and our burning hearts may be satisfied. Amen.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
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