DAY OF REJOICING

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY IN LENT
MARCH 11, 2018

Numbers 21:4-9
John 3:14-21

Today is the fourth Sunday in Lent. The ancient church gave this day a name: Laetare (lay-TAR-ee). It comes from the Latin word “rejoice.” Here we are in the middle of Lent—a church season so somber we don’t even get to sing the Alleluia verse—and yet today is Laetare, the day of rejoicing. In the early church the prayers for this day all began with the word “rejoice”. Now this may seem odd but the happiness was about the fact that we’ve passed the halfway point now so Easter is closer than Ash Wednesday! Woo hoo! The resurrection is almost here! That’s why today’s scripture lessons are filled with joy. 

Or are they? They don’t necessarily seem like it. But I assure you, they were chosen to support the rejoicing theme for Laetare. So let’s explore them to uncover what truths therein might just cause us to rejoice.

We start out with a bizarre story from Numbers. What’s your favorite Old Testament story? You could probably name quite a few and my guess is that this one isn’t among them. It certainly wouldn’t make your top ten list. Maybe not even your top thousand. But here it is. 

It happens in the midst of the Exodus. The Hebrew people have been liberated from slavery and they’re on their way to the sweet freedom of the Promised Land. But let’s be honest: after years in the dusty desert the road trip has kind of lost its fun. They’re like little kids in the back seat whining: “Are we there yet?” They get mad at Moses and cry to him: “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no food and no water, and besides we hate this food.” Wait. How can the food be bad? I thought you said you didn’t have any. I guess manna doesn’t count as food because it’s so gross to them at this point. In any case, they are grouchy about the whole situation (and we can hardly blame them—I don’t think any of us would tolerate a 40-year road trip on foot). Then along comes a herd of serpents or whatever it is you call a whole bunch of snakes that bite and kill people. The text calls them seraphim snakes but could also be translated: “fiery monster snakes.” Yikes! The people assume the arrival of these horror-movie-style serpents is God’s punishment for their complaining.  

Divine wrath and savage snakes with big, pointy teeth? Um…this doesn’t sound like a rejoicing story. The people of God don’t think it does either so they beg for help and guess what? There is mercy for them. God tells Moses to make a bronze snake—just like the ones biting them—mount it high up on a pole and carry it through the camp telling people who have been bit to look up at it. Add sculptor to Moses’ job description because he follows this instructive and sure enough, when the bitten look at it, they are healed. A great grace is given to the grumblers. It offers us a glimpse of God’s mercy. Cause for rejoicing? Yes! Still, it’s a snake story so you can see why it never gained the popularity of other Old Testament narratives.

Then, in the gospel lesson from John, we come in on the middle of a midnight conversation Jesus is having with a religious leader named Nicodemus. Jesus is trying to get through to this man that God is offering a new covenant through him. He says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” See? He is making reference to the Exodus story we just heard. In the same way that God provided miraculous healing for the people through the snake sculpture, God is now providing healing from the burden of sin through Jesus who will be soon lifted up on the cross to pour out his life for all people.

Then, comes John 3:16, the verse that everyone knows. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” It is known as the “gospel in a nutshell”. Millions have memorized it, most misunderstand it. Have you noticed how often it is used to exclude or condemn people for not properly believing in Jesus? Once I saw the Rolling Stones in concert and one of the protesters outside the stadium was holding a sign that had John 3:16 on it. Seriously? I’m going to perish because I came to see the Stones?

But this verse is not about condemnation. It’s quite the opposite. Listen to what Jesus says next: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” 

John wants us to contemplate the power of what Jesus did on the cross. In this self-sacrificial act he offers God’s redemptive love to the whole world.  This is grace in its most obvious form. And when we lift this message up, it is so incredible that it draws people in—not because of guilt but because of genuine love. 

Love is the theme that dominates John’s entire gospel. We hear that God is love (1 Jn. 4:8), that the relationship between Jesus and his Father is love (Jn. 15:9-10; 17:23), and that the nature of discipleship is love (Jn. 13:34-35; 15:12-14). 

Like the serpent lifted up by Moses, the love of God in Christ is healing. Even more that that: it saves. That is why they call John 3:16 the gospel in a nutshell: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

Saving love. Offered to everyone. Okay, maybe that is cause for rejoicing.

Nicodemus doesn’t quite know how to react to this message. He’s still metaphorically in darkness. His people—the religious authorities—are concerned about Jesus and his bold reinterpretations of their teachings. That’s presumably why he’s had to sneak off and have this conversation with Jesus at night. Now Jesus tells him he must be born again and live a whole new life of love. That’s an overwhelming request. It takes Nicodemus a while to come around and embrace that challenge.

What about you and me? How do we respond to the challenge? How do we let go of our old lives, our old priorities and be born anew in Christ? How do we really live in that loving way—not just believing in Jesus but continuing his work?

As I contemplated this question, I was offered a burst of inspiration. On Thursday, Luther College hosted a distinguished lecturer named Daryl Davis. A musician and author, Daryl has formed lasting friendships with a large number of people in the Ku Klux Klan. This might not sound so amazing if you didn’t know that Daryl is black. That’s right: a black man had the courage to talk with people who wanted to kill him. Not only that, he formed such transformative relationships with them that over 200 of them have renounced their old lives in the hate group and literally handed over their Klan robes to Daryl. His collection of them continues to grow and he’s proud of them because each one symbolizes a life changed. 

William Gentry, Daryl Davis, Laura Gentry

William and I went to Daryl’s lecture and were riveted by his simple message. He explained to the crowd that he’s no psychologist or anyone with special training in human nature. He’s just a musician with a curiosity. He wanted to understand these Klans-people even though they were dangerous and hated him. And by engaging in dialogue with his enemies without defensiveness or judgement, he's been able to change them. You could say that they have been born again.

It seems to me that’s exactly what Jesus is calling us to do here. What should we to do with the grace given to us? Like John the Baptist, we are to bear witness to the light. With our very presence we are to be Good News for all people.

Today is Laetare—a day of rejoicing. How will you respond to this message of joy? Maybe you don’t want to do anything. You just want to head straight to brunch and forget all about this difficult challenge you’ve been offered. And that’s understandable. Brunch is good. 

On the other hand, you might want to consider what it would be like to take the call seriously. You. Out there sharing God’s love with people. You. Crossing bridges to connect with people you might even consider enemies because you are different races or you have different ideologies or political views. You. Being the vehicle of God’s healing grace. Wouldn’t that be the makings of “eternal life” here on earth?

I think it’d be pretty cool. It’s not impossible. Daryl Davis says if he can build bridges with the Klan then all human connections are possible. With simple acts of kindness and deep listening, friendships can develop that transform people and transform the world. Just contemplating this opportunity should cause our hearts to rejoice.

You want to really celebrate Laetare? Then I’ll give you a special challenge. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is this: Sometime this week, forge a new connection with someone who is different than you are. If you want to go for the top level challenge to get extra credit points find a person who hates you and talk with them. Seek to understand them. Inch your way into an actual friendship. That’s what discipleship is all about and you’ve got the grace to do it. Go shine your light. Amen.

© 2018  Laura E. Gentry

EXPANDING GOD'S PRESENCE

A sermon for the 3rd Sunday in Lent, year B

John 2:13-22

Today we have John’s version of Jesus cleansing the temple. He braids a whip out of cords and dramatically drives the money-changers out along with all the livestock in the courtyard. Calling it a “cleansing” is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? Jesus shut down the whole operation by his actions. No wonder the people were upset with him and demanded to know by what authority he had done this.

Before we get to that question, however, let’s start with the question of why? Why would Jesus do this, and right at the start of his ministry in John’s gospel  (unlike the other 3 gospels, which place it at the end of his ministry)? Does Jesus need to enroll in an anger management class or does he have a legitimate reason for acting out in this way?

Perhaps you’ve been taught that he did it to protest the inequity and corruption that had developed in the temple. I mean the temple authorities were really fleecing the poor with the temple tax that had to be paid in special temple coins and the exchange fee nearly doubled the cost. On top of that the sacrificial animals available for sale—certified blemish-free to meet the demands of the law—were ridiculously over-priced. Such corrupt practices in the name of religion don’t sit well with Jesus—at least according to Matthew, Mark and Luke where he quotes the prophet Jeremiah by saying these scoundrels have made the temple a “den of robbers.”

In John’s gospel, however, this conflict has a different focus. Here he’s creating a stir that’s not unlike a performance art piece. That’s why the onlookers remember the prophesy about the coming Messiah whose zeal for God’s house would consume him and they say: Yep. Must be this guy. He’s got zeal.

Jesus completely shuts down the commerce in the temple. It’s a big deal. Then he says: “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”

Now they are totally confused. Destroy this temple? Is he out of his mind?!

Let’s take a quick history break here to brush up on the back story of the temple. God’s people *loved* the temple. They wanted it for so many years. They had longed for a holy place to meet God on Mount Zion where their sacred ark could reside. Finally, the great King Solomon got it built—declaring it a house of prayer for all people. Its glory was unparelleled. In Psalm 46 we hear these words about the temple: “God is in her; she shall surely not be moved.” They thought it would abide forever, like God.

When the Babylonians conquered Judah in 587 BC, they destroyed the temple and sent the important leaders off to live in exile in Babylonia. Their hopes were cut off. How could such a thing happen? Had God abandoned them? Was this the end?

Then half a century later Babylon’s power was broken by the Persian empire and incredibly, the Jews were allowed to return to Jerusalem and re-build their temple. It took 46 years to do it but they finally got it done. It was humbler than the first one but even more important to them because it was a symbol of God’s presence with them. It became the center of religious life and the remnants of the ancient nation would come there over and over as pilgrims. At the Passover festival there would have been as many as two and a quarter million people.

End of history break. Back to our gospel scene. When Jesus says, “Destroy this temple,” you can practically imagine their heads exploding. Destroy it? What are you talking about? Don’t you know how valuable this temple is to us?! This is our holy place. God lives here.

Then Jesus gets even more weird: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." What? First of all, they are thinking, we don’t want you destroying our precious temple and second of all, you could never raise it up in three days. It has taken forty six years to rebuild! 

But Jesus wasn’t talking about the temple building. “He was speaking of the temple of his body” the narrator of the gospel tells us. And he did so with divine authority.

God’s people clung their temple, their holy place where divine connection could be forged. They came from all over the region to gladly pay their temple tax and to offer animal sacrifices at festivals and special times in their lives like the birth of a baby.

Throughout John’s gospel, we see that Jesus’ body is the new “holy place”. At the beginning we read that “the word became flesh and lived among us.” In the incarnation of Jesus, God came to dwell with us as one of us. He embodied “grace upon grace”. It was no longer exclusively on Mount Zion that God lived, but in the person of Jesus. That is how the people could come to encounter God and receive mercy. And that was all very confusing to the people in the temple that day, especially since Jesus was new on the scene and even his disciples were unsure of what it meant until after his resurrection.

I suspect this whole history lesson is a bit removed from your life. What do we have in common with these ancient people? Why is it relevent to us? Well, like them, we are still concerned about where to meet God. 

In Celtic spirituality there is the notion of “thin places,” those places and experiences where it feels like the distance between our finite world and God’s infinite presence collapses and becomes very thin. Now that Jesus has come to unleash God’s presence in the world, to expand it beyond the temple walls in Jerusalem and to make it available to all people everywhere, it seems to me that the thin places, the holy places, are more abundant than we may realize. They could be absolutely anywhere! 

Where are your thin places? Where do you directly encounter God’s holiness? Maybe it’s here at church in our beautiful, historic sanctuary. It is certainly in the symbols of our faith, like the cross. We can encounter holiness in the reading and preaching of scripture, in the hymnody and other music, in the water, the wine and the bread of the sacraments. But of course, you meet God in places outside church as well. Most people profess to experiencing the divine in nature and in deep connections with loved ones. Perhaps you have had moments of “thin places” just walking down the street with an awareness of God’s gracious love for you.

Jesus showed us that God’s presence was in his body and in his life, death and resurrection. His body was the temple. Zeal for God’s house wasn’t about the temple in Jerusalem but about his bodily presence with us, opening up the way we connect with God. Then Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to fill the bodies of his followers and so we believe God is in our bodies as well. We are temples. Wherever we are, there is God. 

You might even argue that since God is everywhere at every moment you don’t need to both er coming to church. And if you did make the argument, it would be valid but I wouldn’t like it.

I would argue back that though Jesus has come into the world to expand God’s presence, we still need to be reminded so that we can more fully live into that reality. We still need comfort, strength, hope and direction. We need training to discern God’s constant presence in our everyday lives. We don’t technically need a church building but we are the church. We are the body of Christ as a community. We need to build one another up so that we can continue the work of our Savior.

That’s why we invite others to church. We want others to have the opportunity to experience the grace upon grace given to us in the risen Christ and available always. And in this way, we can also be about the work of expanding God's presence in the world. As we journey through Lent, may we search for such opportunities.